The war room that sat a floor above the executive level looked less like the headquarters of a prestigious art institution and more like the command center of a military campaign.
Morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The long conference table had disappeared beneath stacks of printed guest lists, seating charts, invitation samples, venue layouts, donor records, and enough sticky notes to qualify as modern art.
A whiteboard stood near the windows.
Someone had drawn arrows.
Several arrows.
Far too many arrows.
Galathea Brooks stopped in the doorway and stared at it.
Then she looked at Cael.
Then back at the whiteboard.
Then back at Cael.
"Why is there a whiteboard?" she asked as she surveyed the chaos around her.
Cael didn't even look up from the spreadsheet on his laptop. "Preparation."
"This? For a wedding?" Galathea gawked.
"For resistance." Cael said dramatically.
Galathea slowly closed the office door behind her.
