Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
But all there was in the hallway was a stack of packages that had yet to be opened.
I sucked in a steadying breath that only managed to go right to my head, making me throw out a hand when dizziness had me feeling like I might topple off my heels.
“Get it together,” I mumbled to myself as I took a few (shallower) breaths.
I moved away from the wall and went to the door. Some part of me hoped it was locked, that I could just tell Milo I tried, but I didn’t know how to pick a lock.
Then maybe he’d give me lessons. Standing real close behind me, his arms around me, hands on mine showing me how to move the picks, his warm breath on my neck, and his hard length…
No.
God.
What was wrong with me?
Totally not the time for sexual fantasies about the strange man paying me to spy on my boss.
That was a red, red flag.
Even if he did have great taste in jewelry.
And loved fish.
We all knew animal lovers couldn’t be all bad.
I shook those thoughts away and closed my hand around the cold fake brass door handle.
And the damn thing turned.
My stomach sank, but I shook off the disappointment and carefully pushed the door open.
I glanced inside.
Huh.
I had no idea Frank was such a packrat.
The place was full of more boxes. Opened ones. Ones with the packing tape still sealed.
Who wanted to work in such a cramped mess? Especially when he had a whole damn casino to distribute things to.
Clearly, he didn’t let any of the cleaning staff in either. Everything had a fine coat of dust. My nose tickled, and I had to fight to keep from sneezing as I moved around his desk. It was straight out of the seventies. An awful reddish-brown fake wood with a lot of dents and dings.
Everything in his office felt dated.
The bookshelves behind the desk. The junk accumulated on the shelves. The printer looked like one I had in middle school.
Maybe he just… never cleared it out from the previous owner. That was strange, but he also didn’t seem to spend a lot of time in his office. He was usually out working the floor in the casino. Rubbing shoulders with other creeps.
I had just started to go around his desk when I saw it.
A dome security camera in the corner.
Red light on.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
I forced my gaze to move casually away, like I didn’t spot it or wasn’t bothered by it.
I found a notepad on the desk, the paper yellowed and a little curled at the edges, grabbed it, and then found a pen, acting like I was just there to see Frank, that I was going to leave a note since he wasn’t around.
I’d just finished scrawling his name as I desperately tried to figure out what the heck to write down when the door flew open. It whacked into the pile of boxes behind the door, knocking the top three ones down.
My whole body jolted.
My heart leapt.
A startled yelp escaped me.
This time, when my hand flew to my chest, it was genuine.
“What are you doing in here?” Frank snapped.
“Frank!” I said, not having to fake the breathlessness in my voice. “You startled me!”
“What are you doing in here?”
He wasn’t usually so sharp with me.
Some part of me wanted to scuttle behind the desk, put it between the two of us.
The other part reminded me that I’d been handling Frank with kid gloves since I started working here. If I could get him away from me when I was undressed, I could damn sure extract myself from this situation.
“I was looking for you,” I said, adding a little eye roll like he was being so silly. “I was just leaving you a note,” I added, flashing the notepad at him.
“Why? You’ve never come here before.”
“Well, I was just… I was a little worried…”
I let it hang.
He was always quick to bite at the bait.
“Worried about what?” he asked, some of the tightness in his shoulders easing.
“Well, this,” I said, pressing my hand to the diamond necklace. “You seemed really upset about it. And I didn’t want you to be mad at me. I swear I didn’t do anything to invite this present.”
“That,” Frank said, exhaling hard. “Don’t worry. I spoke to Eric. He won’t be making you uncomfortable like that ever again.”
That sounded so final.
I really hoped poor Eric was still, you know, living.
I mean, I had no proof that Frank was some kind of killer. But he had such a fragile ego that it wouldn’t surprise me if he was quick to violence when he felt insulted.
“Oh, okay. I just wanted to make sure that we’re, you know, good,” I said, carefully taking a step away from the desk, wanting to inch closer to the door for an easy escape as soon as the conversation found the opening.