“You have radio contact.”
“Yes.”
“So verify it.”
The security man studied her.
Naomi wondered whether he was accustomed to people becoming nervous when security approached.
Most were.
Even wealthy people.
Especially wealthy people with something to hide.
Naomi had spent too much time around regulatory attorneys to fear polite questions.
The guard nodded.
“One moment.”
He walked away.
Naomi looked toward Onyx.
“Popular today.”
The Doberman blinked.
She almost smiled.
A woman seated nearby leaned over.
“He’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Protection dog?”
“Partly.”
“Service?”
“No.”
The woman nodded.
No interrogation.
No moral judgment.
Good.
“My husband would love him.”
“Does your husband like dogs?”
“He likes anything that ignores him.”
Naomi laughed quietly.
The woman introduced herself as Helena Brooks, founder of a medical-device company.
They spoke for several minutes.
Helena did not recognize Naomi.
Or pretended not to.
Both possibilities were refreshing.
Then the room changed.
Not physically.
Socially.
Naomi felt it before seeing why.
Conversations softened.
People turned.
Margaret Whitmore was approaching.
Two summit staff members followed her.
So did the security officer.
The young concierge from the entrance lingered behind them.
Naomi remained seated.
Margaret stopped five feet away.
Her attention moved immediately to Onyx.
Then Naomi.
“Good morning.”
Naomi removed her sunglasses.
Margaret’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Maybe recognition?
No.
Not yet.
“Good morning.”
Margaret said, “I’m Margaret Whitmore.”
“I know.”
That seemed to irritate her.
People like Margaret were used to introductions creating hierarchy.
Naomi had skipped that part.
Margaret continued.
“I understand there’s been some confusion regarding your dog.”
“No confusion from my side.”
One of the staff members shifted uncomfortably.
Margaret smiled without warmth.
“Animals are not permitted during closed investor sessions.”
“Onyx has written authorization.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen the notation.”
“Then we agree.”
Margaret paused.
“The notation appears to have come directly from trustee administration.”
“It did.”
“Which trustee?”
Naomi took a sip of water.
“You should ask the office that issued it.”
Margaret’s smile disappeared.
“That is what I’m asking you.”
“No.”
“You’re asking me to explain your internal authorization system.”
Several nearby guests had begun listening.
Margaret noticed.
Her posture became even straighter.
“Ms…”
She glanced at the card on the table.
“Carter.”
“Yes.”
“There are security rules in place for a reason.”
Naomi looked toward Onyx.
The dog lay beside her chair.
“Has he violated one?”
“That isn’t the point.”
“Then what is?”
Margaret’s voice lowered.
“This is a restricted summit.”
“You arrived without an institutional designation.”
Naomi looked at the table card.
“Correct.”
“Your invitation says private principal.”
“Correct.”
“You brought a large animal.”