On any other day, Amy might have paused there before the windows merely to take in the view and enjoy a few moments’ quiet contemplation. Today, she sees only her own image, reflected faintly in the panes. Today, she wears her sleekest dark gray suit of faux gabardine and matching shoes, her Cartier watch, and a single onyx ring. Her makeup is designed to subtly emphasize her eyes and cheeks while minimizing her mouth. She’d intended to look like pure executive juice, wired with so much voltage she’s near to overloading, but she doesn’t, and she has only herself to blame.