Chapter 4 - Paisley
On the way back to my apartment, I tried to calm myself down with logic.
That only made it worse, not better. The people who left Axon all had too much in common.
The ones I knew were definitely suck ups, always volunteering for extra work and quick to throw their coworkers under the bus to make themselves look better.
According to the gossip, the ones who left before I started working there were equally annoying.
Each and every one of them had left without notice.
This was a great source of talk because it inevitably made extra work for everyone else.
It was kind of a meme. If someone got overly frustrated they’d threaten they’d be the next to walk out.
If someone especially pissed off management we’d joke about them being the next to disappear. It didn’t seem so funny right now.
All of them were on that list. Three had check marks next to their names and one of those had just been confirmed dead.
So maybe they got themselves into positions to know too much.
Did my boss think I knew too much now? She had refused to believe Mr. Caraggio had given me permission to go into his office, and the more I thought about it, why did Mr. Caraggio leave the way he did, all sweaty and anxious as if someone was chasing him?
Pretty much the same way I left.
My parents and I weren’t close. In fact, we hadn’t spoken since my birthday four months ago when they made their dutiful call.
We probably wouldn’t speak again until Christmas when I made my dutiful call.
There was no way I could drag them into this, but could I stay at my place where anyone could easily check HR records for my address?
My apartment wasn’t ritzy or anything, far from it.
But it was in a relatively safe neighborhood and I knew the people who lived around me by sight at least. There was a gate that opened with a code but as I drove through it that afternoon it seemed awfully flimsy.
And people were notoriously lazy, scooting in behind someone else before it shut again.
Once I was inside I pulled all the blinds and paced around in the gloom, not sure what to do but definitely not feeling safe or secure.
I was so worked up, the ordinary sounds of a delivery person on the walkway outside made my heart jump and I imagined I’d hear ruthless pounding on the door at any second.
My phone rang and I jumped out of my skin, inching toward where it lay on the kitchen table like it was a dangerous animal. I expected to see Erica’s number or someone else from Axon and sank into a chair with relief when it was only my best friend Marlowe.
When I answered, she sounded even more upset than I felt. “I have the hugest favor to ask of you,” she said breathlessly. “Do you have any vacation time at all? Sick time? Any way you can take some time off?”
I couldn’t laugh despite somehow finding myself with all the time in the world. Even if I wasn’t already fired, there was a nonzero chance I was now on that list waiting for my checkmark. Nothing could get me back in the Axon building again.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I wasn’t going to share any of this with Marlowe and risk putting her in danger, too.
“One of my girls got meningitis and is in the hospital,” she said. “I need an emergency replacement and it’s kind of a big job, out of town.”
Marlowe ran an elite nanny agency in Beverly Hills.
She started it with her sister, both of them babysitting for families in posh neighborhoods for years, building up enough of a clientele to need to start outsourcing.
Eventually she gained such a reputation that she was booking jobs months in advance and one of the families she’d been working for since tenth grade invested the seed money to open her agency.
I was one of her employees on and off during high school and college.
I loved kids and it was usually pretty easy money, eat a pizza, watch a movie, maybe play a few games and then put the kids to bed.
Now it seemed like a gift from heaven.
“How big?” I asked. And more importantly, “How far out of town?”
She filled me in. It was for a family who was vacationing in Aspen for three weeks and I’d be staying with them at their resort.
“I know it’s a lot, but it’s December, I’m booked so solid even I’m getting back out there and doing jobs. I’m so desperate I’ve called my rivals and they’re all booked too. This family holds a lot of sway and I’d hate to lose their business.”
I knew all her people had to go through a rigorous vetting process, fingerprinting, background check, regular drug screening. She explained there was no way she could do all that in such a short amount of time.
“But I trust you with my life,” she said. “I know you’re solid and no one is more trustworthy.”
“When do I leave?” I asked.
There was a stunned silence since she was certain I’d have to refuse. She knew what dragons they were at Axon. I would have had to get my meager three days of vacation approved in advance.
“You can do it? The whole three weeks?” She paused, like she was about to drop a bomb. “You’d have to be there tomorrow.”
That was the least shocking thing I’d learned that day so I agreed, making Marlowe nearly cry with relief.
I was about to start myself. She promised to send me all the information and I ended the call.
It turned out there was a flight that I could catch that evening if I hustled out the door almost immediately and I jumped on it.
No one would think to look for me in Aspen and I wouldn’t have to toss and turn all night waiting for some shadowy figures to bust down my door.
I hurriedly packed a bag full of winter gear, throwing open the one closet door I hadn’t opened in far too long.
My banged up old snowboard leaned against the wall and I ran my hand over its surface.
Memories rushed back. Better times. I used to be so damn good and everyone, including myself, had such high hopes. I was on the track to the next Olympics. I let my hand drop to my side, leaning down to press my fingers against the small scar next to my knee.
It didn’t hurt anymore, barely twinged even in the worst weather.
But it took me too long to rehabilitate after the accident and I never got back to the high level I was before.
My parents thought I had lost my nerve, driving me to get back into competitions, but I knew my limits.
I couldn’t do some of the insane things I did before my injury, didn’t have the mobility.
I was still good, just not great anymore.
It felt like my heart was breaking at the time, but now I was grateful I could walk at all, and could still snowboard if I had time.
Now I had the time and couldn’t wait to get on the slopes. For about three minutes while I packed up my gear, I was no longer afraid, feeling like I was already speeding down a mountain. It had been too long since I felt that kind of freedom.
The taxi ride to the airport and getting on the plane was a blur of paranoia. I didn’t feel safe until I was in the air, and even then I wondered if someone would be waiting for me once I disembarked.
Since I didn’t have to check in with the family until the next afternoon, I booked myself into a bustling resort hotel.
People were going nuts because of the early snow and the excitement of all the fresh powder that would be waiting for us the next day was infectious.
I passed a packed bar with live music playing and once I had all my stuff in the room, I decided that was just what I needed instead of pacing my room imagining the worst.
With just three weeks until Christmas, the lobby was decorated with a lush fir tree that rose almost to the high, beamed ceiling.
It was swathed in thick red and silver velvet ribbons, big silver bells, and glistening crystal ornaments that caught the light from all the chandeliers.
A fake snowman pointed the way to the bar, holding a sign that boasted about the delicious spiked cocoa.
All of a sudden that was exactly what I craved and I was absorbed into the welcoming atmosphere of the grand bar.
A dance floor winked with red and green lights, clashing with the sparkly disco ball overhead as people bounced around and swayed to the live band.
The place was packed but I easily got my cocoa, topped with a giant marshmallow and a sinful amount of whipped cream.
The first sip nearly knocked me back off the barstool and the bartender laughed, used to the reaction to his creation.
I wasn’t used to drinking so I sipped slowly, letting the warmth of the cocoa and the burn of the alcohol relax my stiff joints. I was safe for the moment and already thinking about getting out on my board first thing in the morning before I met the family I’d be working for.
I had to lock away my fear because there was nothing I could do about it for the moment. I couldn’t let panic cloud my judgment or I’d end up doing something stupid or rash.
Swiveling on my barstool, I surveyed the crowd, wearing après ski gear, cheerful sweaters and sleek leggings.
Some of the women had on snug, sparkly club dresses.
I looked down in a bit of dismay to see I still had my work outfit on.
The navy blue pencil skirt with matching jacket and white blouse buttoned all the way to the top to try to combat my coworkers’ lascivious stares didn’t exactly match the vibe.
I stopped caring when a man seemed to part the crowd of dancers and crush of people gathered around the stage.
It had to be my imagination, but he seemed to stand out, taller, broader, almost golden in the twinkling disco lights.
His blond hair was tossed back on a strong brow, there was a tinge of a smile on his face, as if everything in there belonged to him.
He was pretty much the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
My cheeks started burning just watching him easily make his way through the crowd.
A pretty, dark haired woman reached for his shoulders and tried to tug him with her onto the dancefloor.
He gave her a benevolent smile and leaned down to say something to her, then moved on, leaving her desolate.
I laughed. I had to be imagining how gorgeous he was, how almost godlike he acted.
An effect of the spiked cocoa and my overwrought nerves finally calming down.
It felt good to watch him, wonder what he’d do next, who he’d choose in that throng.
I found myself leaning forward on the barstool, my grip tightening on my drink. I didn’t expect such a great show.
Then he turned and locked eyes with me, the hint of a smile growing into something that had me feeling much too warm.
I reached for the top buttons of my blouse but there was no way I could undo them now, with him watching.
He was definitely watching and definitely changing his trajectory to head my way.