10. Rei
Most days, I enjoyed my work at MyHome. My official title with the cleaning company was “quality assurance manager,” which basically meant I floated around the building, picking up slack as needed and making sure work was done well.
Today, however? My mind was pulled in a million directions. I had a date with Quentin tomorrow—and I couldn’t stop thinking about the almost-smile he’d given me. The words he used to describe me.
All this time, I hadn’t noticed him, but he’d seen all the best parts of me.
Yet every giddy, excited thought about Quentin was followed by IBS-inducing anxiety about my meeting with Conrad.
At this point, I’d seen the ground floor bathroom more times today than I’d seen Jada in the last week...
and she wanted to see me before my date for reasons unknown.
What did she know about Quentin? Was it the same thing sending Conrad into a paranoid spiral?
But he seemed so normal. Was I just a bad judge of character?
My stomach soured at the thought, and I abandoned my cart for the bathroom again. Thankfully, the day was almost over.
Once I finished in the bathroom, I went ahead and changed for my meeting with Conrad.
Putting on clothes I felt confident in was like an armor for me.
The oversized, caramel-colored cashmere sweater?
A protective cocoon I could recede into if needed.
Formfitting, stretchy black jeans were perfect for sitting to converse or walking my ass out of the room if I needed to.
And my tan leather booties with chunky heels made each step feel strong and purposeful as I did.
I pulled a slouchy beanie over my head to protect from the chill outside, left my jumpsuit in my locker, and then left the safety of the supply room to go to my meeting with Conrad.
But before I left MyHome...
I checked the spot on the wall, almost out of habit.
My heart leapt at the note I saw.
I hope I get to see you tomorrow. -Quentin
A warm flutter filled my chest as I read his words again just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. This handwriting was different, and now I knew it as his. I peeled the yellow note from the wall and walked out of MyHome to the town car waiting in the loading zone.
George got out of the driver’s seat, opening my door and handing me a takeout box along with a paper bag with the logo of his favorite coffee shop in Denton, Barry’s Coffee.
“Have I mentioned I love you?” I said as I stared at the food.
He chuckled, red cheeks lifting as he did. “Never hurts to hear.”
“Well, I do.” I grinned at him and got into the back seat.
The music he liked, classic rock, played on the radio while he pulled away from MyHome.
Once buckled, I tugged the takeout bag open to see a Danish with plum filling.
The sweet scent and gorgeous flaky crust had my mouth watering. “You’re too good to me,” I said.
“You deserve the best,” George reminded me with a pleased smile in the rearview mirror.
I ate the Danish on the way to the office, realizing it was the first food I’d been able to stomach all day. The warm car with George’s music playing made me feel more at ease too. If only George could drive me around town and never take me to my meeting with Conrad.
All too soon, though, we were in the Radiant Cleaning parking lot. As soon as I opened the door, cold wind attacked every piece of bare skin. I hated this time of year—Dallas didn’t get too much cold weather, but when winter hit, it hit like a linebacker.
Inside the building, I shivered despite the warmer air.
“Hiya, stranger, how can I help you?”
I jerked my head toward the voice, realizing there was a different receptionist sitting at the chair, her paper name tag tented on the counter. She’d written Courtneigh with hearts on either side in a pink marker. Interesting choice.
“I have a meeting with Conrad Hale,” I said.
Her eyes widened like I’d given her a juicy tidbit. “The big boss. Gotcha. Have a seat, and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.”
I held back an impressed expression. Heart name tag aside, Courtneigh was already doing far better than the last two hires.
“Sure,” I said and went to sit in the cushy leather chairs (without armrests, thank you very much.
Nothing worse than sitting in a chair and having the arms cut into my wide hips!)
“Sir,” she said on the phone, “your six o’clock is here... Yes, would you like a drink?... Absolutely. Be there soon.”
A drink? Lucky son of a—
“Would you like a water?” Courtneigh asked me. “Maybe a warm tea?”
“A water,” I said, surprised again.
She returned soon with two bottles of water, branded with the company logo. A small swell of pride filled my chest at the sight. “Thanks,” I said as I took a bottle from her, rolling it over in my hands to get a good look.
Soon, we reached Conrad’s office at the end of the hall, and Courtneigh held the door for me before following me inside.
Conrad practically beamed at her. “Thanks for this, B-um...”
“Courtneigh.” She reminded him with a smile. Then she curtseyed–actually curtseyed–and silently excused herself from the room.
He gazed after her, eyes trailing to her ass. My stomach turned for different reasons now.
Making sure the door was shut, I said, “You better not sexually harass her. She’s good, and we don’t need any lawsuits.”
Conrad glared at me. “I’m taken.”
“Taken?” I asked. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”
“Well, I am, and I’m very committed to her. You don’t need to worry.”
I dropped into a chair, putting my feet on his desk. “You’re right. Committed men never behave inappropriately with their inferiors at work. Got it.”
He glared at my feet, then looked back to my eyes. “Speaking of men who behave inappropriately at work, what did you find on Quentin?”
My spine instantly tightened, but I kept my voice cool. “I’ve looked like you asked me to and found nothing. Now will you please drop it?” I hoped that would be the end of it, but Conrad’s jaw ticked.
“Does ‘nothing’ include the fact that there’s been a second attack on the founder?
” He turned his laptop around to an online story posted in the last half hour.
My stomach dropped as I looked closer. This wasn’t supposed to be public news, and yet the main image was a collage of Simon and his children, and the title read, SECOND ATTACK ON MYHOME INVESTOR.
I started reading beneath the headline.
Simon Stone, founding investor of MyHome, was admitted to the hospital for thallium poisoning several days ago, according to a recent Instagram post by Stone’s daughter, Aleyna.
I wanted to read the post, but Conrad slammed the laptop shut, making my heart jump. “Look, Rei, I know you’re not exactly a trained spy, but I know something fishy is going on at MyHome, and Quentin is in the middle of it.” There was a grim, determined look on his face.
He didn’t look like the Conrad I used to know. The theater kid happy to have a chance at acting, even if it happened off stage. “Con, if you feel like you need to make a tip to the police, then that’s—”
“The police are useless,” Conrad snapped. “No, we need concrete evidence before we approach them.” He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small, black circle. It almost looked like a little magnet. “You’ll put this in his office, and it will gather everything we need.”
I stared at it, then him, the pieces clicking into place.
It wasn’t a magnet—it was a recorder. “You want me to bug his office?” I sat up, planting my feet firmly on the floor.
“Conrad, this has gone too far. It would be illegal for us to do what you’re asking, much less immoral.
And if Quentin found out we were listening in on all his private conversations, we’d lose our biggest cleaning contract.
Hundreds of people would be out of work. No. No. Absolutely not.”
But my words seemed to slide off Conrad’s shoulders as he said, “This isn’t up for debate.”
My eyebrows rose. Conrad never ordered me to do anything.
Especially not with that manic look in his eyes.
Now that I looked closer at him, I could see that the circles under his eyes were even darker than our last meetings.
New lines had appeared on his forehead and around his mouth.
Conrad used to be an attractive man; that’s part of why I hired him to play this part, but there was something seriously wrong with him.
I couldn’t let this go on any longer and leave my employees at risk.
“Conrad, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to let you go, effective immediately. Please leave your keys on the desk.”
He looked down at his pristine desk and shook his head. I thought it was in disbelief. But then he looked back up at me, nostrils flared. “That won’t be happening, Rei.”
It was like cold water trickled down my neck and all my hairs stood on end. Something was seriously wrong here. “What’s really going on here?” I asked, my feet refusing to move me toward the door, no matter how much my brain screamed at them to do just that.
“We both know that you have far more to lose than I do,” he said.
“If you fire me, I’m going to MyHome and canceling our contract before you have a chance to remove my privileges to sign for the company, and then I’ll go to the news and let everyone know exactly who you are.
” His voice didn’t so much as wobble. He meant every word.
Acid rose in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “How could you say that? You were with me at rock bottom. I gave you a job, freedom to do as you please, paid you generously before I could even pay myself. Why would you threaten me like this?”
A flicker of something passed through his eyes, but quickly vanished to that hardened stare.
“This isn’t about you. I know Quentin is up to something shady, and it hurts millions of people to let it continue, not just the people scrubbing floors for him.
Once you get me my evidence, I’ll step down as CEO without sharing your identity.
But until then, you’ll do exactly as I say, starting with this.
” He walked around the table, grabbed my frozen arm, and pressed the recording device into my hand.
While his clammy hand was still on mine, he added, “If you breathe a word of this to Quentin, I will know, and you will regret it.”
I stared at him like looking longer would reveal the person standing across from me. Conrad could be vain and a little dramatic, sure, but he wasn’t a blackmailing spy.
“That will be all,” he told me, then pushed me, none too gently, toward the door. As soon as I was outside of it, the lock clicked shut.
Courtneigh was already waiting for me, an ever-present smile on her face. “Let’s get you outside,” she said sweetly.
I stared at her. Where had she come from? How much of that had she heard?
She didn’t answer my silent question as we walked toward the front door, the bug feeling heavy in my hand.
If Conrad was willing to go to these lengths to get dirt on Quentin... how far would he go to destroy me if I didn’t?