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Alba and I followed him down the hall and out to the elevators, ignoring the stares and whispers of our colleagues as three more security personnel seamlessly fell into step around us, boxing us in. Just in case I was stupid enough to try and run, I guess.
Also, one of them kept mumbling into his own shoulder, and I’d seen enough action movies in my life (two) to know there was probably a microphone tucked in there somewhere.
The whole thing was really dramatic and excessive. Total overkill. Especially for something that could have been communicated in a single email.
“Come up to my office.” That’s it. That’s all I’d needed. One email, one sentence.
I made a mental note to tell him that.
Alba turned to me when we stepped into the elevator. “Promise me you’ll behave when you go in there. No thinly veiled insults, no smart-mouthing, and absolutely nosarcasm whatsoever.”
“Why? Does he, like, notgetsarcasm?” My voice was pitched low and appropriately concerned as I pressed a hand to my chest. “Oh my god, poor thing.”
The blonde guy to my right let out what sounded like a short huff of a laugh, then tried to cover it up with a cough.
“What did Ijustsay?” Alba snapped exasperatedly.
I had to make a conscious effort to stop my eyes from rolling to the very back of my head. “I promise I’ll try to behave.”
She let out a heavy breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s going to eat you alive,” she whispered.
Two of the men nodded.
The elevator dinged before I could say anything else, and the six of us stepped out into the hall.
* * *
Talk about an anticlimactic letdown.
All that fuss with the security guys and Alba’s doomsday warnings, and the office was empty when we got there. No fuming Adrien, no HR rep, no threatening lawyers, and no police officers wanting to take statements.
I was instructed to take a seat on the brown leather couch and wait. “He’ll be here soon,” Frankie said before shutting the door behind him.
And then I had to pretend like I didn’t hear him lock it.
That was over an hour ago.
The first forty minutes were fine… but then my phone died, and it was just me and my thoughts, alone in Adrien’s massive, lavishly decorated office.
I lasted three minutes.
“Hey, Frankie?” I called after confirming that the door was, in fact, locked. “Any idea how much longer he’ll be?”
No answer.
“Okay… do you at least have a phone charger I could borrow?”
No answer.
“Alba?” I tried. Her desk was less than ten feet away from the door. If she was there, she should’ve been able to hear me. “You there?”
Still no answer.
It occurred to me that this could technically be considered false imprisonment. Which meant that if Adrien threatened me with a lawsuit, I could potentially counter with this.
Maybe.
I wasn’t a lawyer, but it had to be better than nothing.
