30. Naz
THIRTY
NAZ
For once, I’m the one banging on Cory’s door. I almost hope he’s got someone in there with him, or that he was two seconds from nutting and my voice outside his door was just enough of a nuisance that he can’t finish. Payback and all that.
But when he answers the door, he’s fully dressed, shoes and all.
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask.
“No.” I sweep my eyes over his typical uniform of dark jeans, black security polo, and heavy black boots. He even has his work phone clipped to one side of his belt and a taser on the other. “I like to be ready,” he says, reading my confused expression.
“Whatever. Do you want to go somewhere?”
“What’s up?”
I hold up my phone and show him the text I got from Emmy. I was in the shower when it came through, and I tried to call him back, but he didn’t answer.
Emmy: I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.
Emmy: I’m supposed to meet Kathy from IT at the cafe downstairs today at 1pm.
Naz: Of course it’s not your fault. How could you have known?
Naz: Do you mind if we crash your lunch and ask her some questions?
He hasn’t texted me back, but I figure he wouldn’t have told me the time and place for his lunch meeting if he didn’t expect me to show up.
Cory’s eyes shift from my phone to me, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that I didn’t even bother buttoning until I was standing here waiting for the door to open.
“It’s after noon already. Why aren’t you dressed?”
“I just got out of the shower. I came straight here when I read the text.”
“I’m leaving in five, with or without you.”
Not wasting another second, I throw on a t-shirt, socks, and shove my feet into a pair of Converse. Cory is already waiting for me outside my door when I make it out with minutes to spare.
The cafe on the lobby floor of the label’s building is accessible both through the lobby and through a storefront door on the street.
It’s decorated with signed posters and memorabilia of all the artists the label has produced.
As their most popular artists, Lest Is Moore has an entire wall dedicated to us.
There are ten foot tall black and white portraits of each of us lining the back of the cafe.
Our gold and platinum records, as well as framed awards, photos, and articles, hang around them.
It’s a little embarrassing to walk in here and see my face and half my naked torso blown up like that, but the wall itself is a testament to how far we’ve come.
Overall, the label has been good to us. We’ve had issues here and there.
Like when we wanted to get rid of Francis, but they cared more about making money than our health and well-being.
We are as successful as we are because they gave us a chance, and because we make them so much money, they rarely try to dictate how we do things.
Stopping just inside the public entry, Cory and I sweep our eyes over the cafe.
It’s not too busy for the tail end of the lunch rush on a weekday, but it’s busy enough that we have to comb through the crowd.
I look down at the photo from the employee directory again.
Kathy is a white woman in her early thirties with long, dark hair and bangs.
Cory spots her sitting at the far side of the room, her back to the wall. She’s looking around the room, brow furrowed, then checks her watch.
I decided I should do the talking, at least at first, in case Cory comes on a little too strong. His stoic nature and hulking posture isn’t always conducive to friendly conversations. Emmy says she’s nice, so I’m going to walk into this hoping she wasn’t knowingly complicit.
“Hi, Kathy?” I say when we reach her.
“Hmm?” Kathy looks up, her dark blue eyes widening when she sees me standing in front of her. Her eyes briefly cut over to Cory, and then back to me. “H-Hi?”
“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Naz,” I say, reaching out a hand to shake. She returns it tentatively, looking a little awestruck and confused.
“Did Emmy set this up?” she asks, giggling awkwardly. “I was wondering why he isn’t here yet.”
“Actually, we thought he’d be with you. He told me you two were having lunch today, and I asked if I could join you, but he didn’t get back to me before it was time to leave. So here I am,” I say, holding my hands out like ta-da. “Do you mind if we join you?”
Kathy looks at Cory again. “Um. No, of course not.” She grabs her purse and moves to stand, most likely thinking we’ll need a bigger table. I wave her to sit back down.
“You don’t have to move. We’re fine here,” I tell her. I sit directly across from her, where I’m assuming Emmy was supposed to be. Cory sits at the small bistro table next to us.
“So,” I say, giving her my friendliest smile. “You’re new here, right?”
Kathy’s eyes dart around. “Um. Yeah. Not quite a month yet.”
Leaning back in my chair, I try to assume a more relaxed pose.
“Do you like it?”
“Oh, I love it. Everyone’s very kind. Even…” she gestures to me, then to the walls. “I haven’t actually met any of the talent yet. Haven’t even spotted anyone,” she says shyly.
“Most of us are pretty chill. Although I heard Smith Christophson is a bit of a diva,” I say in a conspiratorial whisper. He’s also a shit-talker that doesn’t actually know how to play his guitar, but I’ll keep that little tidbit to myself.
Kathy smiles and relaxes. We make small talk for another five minutes or so. She’s definitely as nice as Emmy made her out to be, and she seems genuine enough. I really hope she’s not a closet asshole.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Is it whatever you’re really here to talk about?”
I smile back at her. She’s sharp and doesn’t hold back. I like that.
“About a week ago, Emmy got a cell booster from you.”
“Yeah, I remember. It went to Raleigh.”
Her voice has a slight wobble in it that has me paying closer attention to her. My eyes shift to Cory, who gives me a slight nod.
Deciding that being direct is going to be my best option here, I lean in and show just a bit of vulnerability.
“Were you the one who put the listening device in it?”
Kathy gasps and looks around. Cory shifts in his seat, getting ready for her to bolt. She notices the movement too, and all the color drains from her face.
Despite knowing Cory isn’t going to do anything unless she makes a move at me, I hold my hand out as if settling Cory.
“You knew the booster was for me, yes?”
She nods slowly. “Emmy said you have bad signal at your Raleigh office and that you use it as an excuse to be antisocial.”
“All true,” I chuckle. “But he should have been a little more specific. It’s not really an official office or anything. It’s my home office.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh.”
“Do you watch the news or read tabloids, anything like that?”
“I watch the news,” she confirms. The way her cheeks redden make me pretty sure she knows where this is heading.
“That very personal recording of me happened while I was in my home. Where I have a reasonable assumption of privacy.”
Kathy makes a choking sound, and her eyes well up. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought… They told me…” She buries her face in her hands and sobs. It’s not theatrical at all, but it’s enough to get the attention of the people sitting closest to us.
Reaching across the table, I gently place my hand on her shoulder, patting lightly until she can get her composure. When she uncovers her face, it’s wet with tears and snot. Cory silently passes her a few napkins, and we give her a minute while she blows her nose and wipes her face.
She looks up at me with red, swollen eyes. “I promise I had no idea,” she says, her voice catching on shaky breaths. “I even questioned it, but Mr. Tuft insisted it was ordered from the higher-ups. He said it was because of the investigation.”
“Investigation?”
Kathy blinks back a few more tears. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you.”
“I understand,” I say calmly. “If all you can tell us is exactly what happened with the cell booster, that would be very helpful. We need to get to the bottom of who is responsible for that recording. Were you speaking of Mr. Francis Tuft?”
She nods. “He’s the point of contact for the new hire transition.”
My eyes cut to Cory again.
“Can you tell us more about that?”
Kathy shakes her head and starts babbling nervously. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m probably going to lose my job anyway, but I don’t want to get on the corporation’s blacklist and never work again either.”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable telling me. And I’m not trying to get you fired. The fact that you’re helping me right now by just talking to me is enough for me to know that Emmy is right about you.”
“What did Emmy say about me?”
“He said that if you had anything to do with it, you absolutely didn’t know what it was for or where it was going.
He said you’re a kind person. He likes you a lot, and he’s pretty gutted about this whole thing, too.
I think he’s blaming himself for it, actually.
You might have noticed he’s a bit of a perfectionist.”
Kathy huffs a laugh, which makes her snort a little. She hurriedly blows her nose again, then pulls out her phone. She types on her screen for a minute, then slides the phone across the table.
“I’m really sorry that happened to you. I wish there was anything I could do to help, but I think you should speak to my supervisor, or perhaps someone in legal. I can’t help you.”
On her phone screen, there’s a notes app open. It says:
There’s a park four blocks south of here. The one with the waterfall. I’ll tell you everything I know, but I’m worried it’s not safe here.
Cory and I arrive early, but Kathy is already waiting for us.
The park is more like a hidden patio, with ivy-covered walls on two sides, a huge waterfall feature at the back, and a few trees.
It’s only a few blocks away from the label headquarters, but it’s hidden enough that no one is likely to walk in and notice us by chance.
Kathy is sitting at a small table at the far end of the small park, near a large waterfall feature. The closer we get to the water, the louder it is. If any of us had a listening device or wanted to record this conversation, we’d be hard-pressed to get a clear recording.
“She’s smart,” Cory says.
“Thank you for meeting me here,” Kathy says, standing as we get close.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” I ask after Cory and I take the other seats at the small patio table, and a prolonged silence.
“I’ve been worrying over how much I should tell you all day. What I told you already might put me in breach of contract, but I think you deserve to know the truth, especially after what happened to you.” She takes a breath. “I just don’t know where to start, really.”
“How about you start with Francis Tuft? What do you know about him?” Cory prompts.
“Not much. A small team of people were transferred from X Media Corp., and he’s our point of contact for getting integrated into the new office.”
“Do you know why you were transferred?”
“Special projects consulting is what they called it. We’re supposed to integrate into the label and learn how things work. Mr. Tuft was named as the person we’re supposed to report to if we have any questions or notice anything strange.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Mr. Tuft has all of us reporting directly to him if anything comes through the office regarding the Lest Is Moore team and accounts. That’s why I called him when Emmy mentioned you needing a cell booster.”
“And he instructed you to put a listening device in the booster?”
“Yes. Which was strange, but also not. One of our first assignments was coordinating and installing listening devices in the executive conference rooms and the offices assigned to your accounts.”
“Even the private offices?” I know the answer, but I’m curious if she knows.
Kathy nods. “Except for restrooms, there are listening devices and cameras all over the building.”
“Why though?”
“I was told it was ordered by one of the execs. I don’t know who exactly.”
“Why would our own label be investigating us?”
It’s more of a rhetorical question that I’m asking myself, but Kathy does her best to answer.
“I can’t say for sure, but when I questioned putting the listening device in the booster, Mr. Tuft said that it’s part of an ongoing investigation of serious misconduct.
He also said that if it’s going to an office in Raleigh, then it would be considered property of the label and therefore within their legal bounds to monitor. ”
“Bullshit,” I mutter. “Francis knows there’s no official office in Raleigh.”
“I didn’t know,” Kathy says in a small voice. “I promise I didn’t know. The investigation seemed legitimate. We even had the FBI come through and ask us questions and look through our access records.”
“We believe you,” I tell her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Francis manipulated you. And my guess is he’s manipulating the others, too. What I can’t figure out is why anyone at the label would give him access to anything.”
“He doesn’t work for the label that I know of,” Kathy says.
“He gets his orders directly from X Media Corp. As far as I’m aware, they made him our point of contact because he’s familiar with the inner workings of the label.
We were told he was there to help us transition, but from the beginning it has felt like he was there for something else.
I thought maybe it had to do with the investigation, so I just went along with it. ”
“This special projects consulting… is it a temporary position?”
“No, I was hired as a permanent employee. My company treated it like a promotion. I work for the label, but I still answer to management at X Media Corp. as well.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I’m not saying this is what’s happening, but in my experience, integration teams are a common corporate development strategy for big changes in a company.”
“Like?”
“Like expansions, mergers, or acquisitions.”