Mallorka made her way up the spiral staircase to the Chairman's room. The spiral staircase stood at the entrance to the Splendid-Biscuit Biscuit Making Company, its curvilinear bulk almost obscuring the passageway that led to the sales cubicles. Its wide girth could hold four people abreast at any point from floor to landing. Wrought iron railings ran along its sides and onto each railing clung a tiny wrought iron cherub, obscenely plump and holding a wand in its tiny hand. It was not clear if he was meant to be Cupid or simply a decorative detail that had caught the Chairman's fancy.
In any case, it was part of the loving attention that had been lavished on this staircase with its finest imported marble, its steps carved with a wild extravagance of tropical African doodles and its landing covered by the softest, cushiest, brightest-red Persian carpet. It was not a staircase that just anyone could be allowed to step on to. Like Jack’s beanstalk, everyone knew that a Giant lived above the landing, but few had ever ventured up to see him. It was implicitly understood that the spiral staircase was reserved for the Chairman and his special guests. And for good measure, made explicit through a circular.
* Part of something I wrote, when I was slogging away at my old job. In case you were wondering, there really was a special staircase reserved for the CEO.