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The receptionist sighs and flips through the employee files. “Relationship to the person you’re looking for?”
“I’m an old friend.” I figure it’s a safer answer than fated mate. People tend to get cagey if there’s any indication that I could be a stalker.
She scrolls through the employee payroll, typing occasionally before scrolling some more. It takes a full five minutes before she says, “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t seem to have any employees with that name or description.”
I sigh, my frustration making me want to break something. “Thank you for checking.”
“Have a nice day,” she replies in a tone that highlights her utter apathy at the idea of me having any kind of day at all, nice or otherwise.
I only have one more designer on my list: Sathior Havani. But what if she isn’t there? What if my time runs out and she’s still missing?
I’ll have to go back empty handed and count down the days until I have more leave. Then, I’ll be back here to keep searching. It doesn’t matter how much leave time it takes; I will find her. I fucked this up once. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice and have her slip through my fingers again.
I hail a hovercab and give the driver the address to Sathior’s studio. As we draw ever closer, I feel my guts twist with nerves.Even if I find her again, I’m the one who stood her up in the first place. If she never got my message, she’ll probably assume that I’m the kind of guy to pump and dump.
Sathior Havani’s building is blindingly white. From what I’ve read about her, she pioneered the virgin aesthetic that’s apparently super popular on Kalei right now. It seems that this obsession with purity extends to architecture.
When I step inside, I’m struck by the lack of dust and grime. I don’t see a speck on any of the white surfaces. A young human, also dressed in sterile white, sits at the reception talking on her comms.
When I approach, she holds up a finger in a signal to wait. “Yes, yes, I’ll let her know. Thank you,” she says. Her voice is almost too bubbly, which, I suppose, makes her good at her job. I already like her better than the previous receptionist.
She types something in her comms and then turns to me with a smile. “How can I help you today, sir? Just a heads up, Sathior Havani is currently away on business, so she is unavailable if you wish to schedule an appointment with her.”
“Actually, I’m looking for an employee named Tania. She’s human like you, about five feet and four inches, and has blonde hair and blue eyes.”
“Tania…Tania…” she mutters. Her face is a blank mask of confusion as she types into the comms. “Do you have a last name?”
“No.” I tense, waiting for her to roll her eyes, but instead, she purses her lips thoughtfully.
“How do you know her?”
“We met about a year ago, but lost touch. When I got leave on Glimner, I decided to look her up so we could get to know each other better.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know any Tanias here, and I’m not finding any in the employee database. Are you sure you have the right studio?”
I shrug. “I think so, yeah.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
I sigh, feeling dejected. It would be easy to lash out, but it’s not her fault. I lost my chance to be with my fated mate through my own stupidity. “Thanks for trying anyway.”
“I hope you find her,” she calls after me as I turn to leave.
Halfway to the door, I hear a familiar voice. “I’ll see you later, uh…I’m so sorry, can you tell me your name again?”
“Lia.”
Turning around, I see Alice leaning on the front desk, chatting with the receptionist. She says something that makes the girl laugh, but I don’t hear it over the ringing in my ears. If Alice is here, then where’s Tania? She must have left the company before the receptionist started here. But where?
“Alice!”
The woman jumps and whips around, looking anxious for a second. Her eyes meet mine, and her brows furrow in confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“It’s Garet, the guy who rescued Tania in the woods.”
Her jaw drops. “No fucking way.” She turns to Lia. “If Sathior asks, I’m talking to a family friend, one who I have absolutely no romantic interest in. It’s true, but I want to get the record straight.”
The receptionist winks and leans in closer. “I’ll erase the security footage, anyway, don’t worry.”
