The projector fan hummed somewhere behind the panel table, a low mechanical drone under the moderator's voice.
Gilbert had taken the seat to her right without asking. Julian was two chairs down, wedged between a stranger from an asset management firm and Dominic Blackwood. His pen turned over and over between his fingers. He hadn't written a word on the pad in front of him.
Dominic sat with his hands folded on the table, watching the panel without a single unnecessary movement. Halfway through the second speaker, he slid a business card across to Julian without looking at him. Julian didn't pick it up. Dominic didn't push it again. He hadn't looked at Julian since. Arianne suspected that was the point.
Rafael was at the far end, not bothering to hide it now that hiding was over. Every few minutes his gaze crossed the table and landed on her, then moved on before anyone else clocked where it had been. Arianne kept her attention on the panel and gave him nothing to read.
