“What is it, Lou?”
He stuffs the rag in his pocket. “Just wanted to tell you your account’s clear.”
“Excuse me?” I gape at him. “What do you mean, my account is clear?”
“Your rent? You’re paid up for the next six months.”
“What? How?”
He shrugs. “Somebody obviously wanted to do you a solid. What does it matter?”
“Who?” I press. “Who paid my rent?”
“Some guy, fuck if I know,” he shrugs. “Handed me a big-ass check. And it cleared. I ain’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when it means you ain’t gonna be late with the rent.”
“This guy – let me guess,” I go on. “Tall. Maybe six-three, dark brown hair, brown eyes? Big build?”
“Yeah, sounds about right.”
I mutter under my breath, the irritation surging through me, the last vestiges of my former good mood floating away like scraps of paper on a stiff breeze.
“You need to give me that check back so I can return it,” I snap.
His laughter turns into a wheezing cough, and he shakes his head. “Yeah. No way in hell that’s gonna happen.”
“Lou, you need to give me the check back –”
“Couldn’t even if I wanted to – which I don’t,” he grumbles. “It’s already cleared.”
“Goddammit,” I growl.
“What’s the problem, lady?” he snaps. “Your fuckin’ rent’s paid. Be grateful somebody took pity on you because you were gonna be out on your ass if –”
I turn and storm out the door of the building before Lou can finish his statement, the blood inside of me beginning to boil over. I flag down a cab and give him the address for my office – then change my mind and give him a different address altogether.
I’m in a terrible mood now and feel the need to spread it around.
* * *
I step off the elevator and find myself in the lobby of Compass Development. I walk across the tile of the lobby and look around. The lobby is luxurious and beautiful, but beyond that, the office has an open floor plan and is done in stainless steel and glass. It’s thoroughly modern and sleek – but in my opinion, it’s sterile. Cold.
I step to the receptionist’s desk, and she gives me a perfunctory smile that looks about as genuine as the smile that’s painted on a Barbie doll.
“Good morning, and welcome to Compass Development,” she chirps. “How can I help you today?”
Her voice is as mechanical as her smile. She looks so lifelike, but I’m convinced if I look behind her, I’ll see her plugged into the wall.
“I’m Berlin Roth and I’m here to see Sawyer West,” I announce. “I don’t have an appointment.”
She purses her lips. “Oh, if you don’t have an appointment, I’m afraid it won’t be possible to see him,” she responds. “He’s a very busy man.”
“Of course he is,” I go on. “And I understand that. But this is a matter of some importance, and I just need five minutes of his time.”
She cocks her head like a puppy trying to comprehend the sound of my voice. “And what is the nature of this matter, Miss Roth?”
“It’s personal.”
Receptionist Barbie consults her computer and types in a few commands before turning back to me. “Well, Mr. West has an opening next Tuesday at eleven-thirty,” she says brightly. “Would you like to make an appointment?”
I grumble to myself and look around the office again. I see a hallway near the back I didn’t notice before. I assume that’s where the executive offices are.
“Miss Roth?”
I look at Receptionist Barbie again and then turn, walking briskly through the office and toward the hallway in the back as she calls out to me. I ignore her and keep walking, my anger growing with every step I take.
“Miss Roth, you can’t go back there,” she calls after me. “Excuse me. Miss Roth, you don’t have an appointment.”
I walk down the hallway, passing offices on my left and right – none of them Sawyer’s. At the end of the hall is a large, imposing door that looks like it was made from cherry wood with an empty desk in front of it. The brass nameplate next to it reads Sawyer West. Bingo.
As I stride toward the door, I can hear Receptionist Barbie’s feet scuffling along on the tile and her frantic breathing as she hurries to catch up with me.
“Miss Roth, you can’t –”
I throw open the door to Sawyer’s office to find him huddled with Rider at his desk. They’re both looking at his computer screen, laughing with one another about something, but look up quickly when I storm in.
“Mr. West, I tried to stop her,” Receptionist Barbie pants from behind me.
“It’s fine, Kyra. I’ll meet with her,” Sawyer replies as he gets to his feet. “Thank you.”
I turn and watch as she gives Sawyer a shaky smile and then turns, leaving his office and closing the door behind her. I turn back to Sawyer, ready to explode, and give a very pointed look at Rider. He exchanges a look with Sawyer and clears his throat.
“Right. Guess I’ll give you two a few minutes,” Rider says. He gives me a brief smile as he ducks out of Sawyer’s office.
I look at the giant wall of windows that overlook Manhattan. Were I not so pissed off right now, I might be impressed with the view. On the right side of the office is a sitting area with couches and chairs, on the left is a massive desk with glass shelving behind it. Like the main office area out front, Sawyer’s office is modern and sterile. The only real touch of warmth I see are the black and white pictures of natural settings on the walls.
“Everything okay?” Sawyer asks. “Are you okay?”
“No Sawyer, everything is not okay.”
He purses his lips and nods, then motions to the sofas and chairs on the other side of the room.
“Okay, would you like to have a seat? Talk about this?”
“No, this won’t take
