Does an interview tomorrow afternoon work?
Rhys:
You already got the job.
Me:
Fine. A fake interview.
Rhys:
Plan to stay for some training, too.
I had experience, but every place did things differently, so training made sense. More importantly, it presented the perfect opportunity.
Me:
We should split it up so I have an excuse to be in the building for multiple days without raising questions.
Rhys:
Doubt anyone will question anything.
He was probably right, but it was my first time undercover, and I was trying to be cautious and methodical. If nothing else, it was good practice.
Me:
Can you do me a favor?
I watched the three bubbles pop up, disappear, and reappear as he typed out a message.
Rhys:
Name it.
Me:
Can you pass my number to Mrs. Hyde so I can see if she’s willing to help with the pictures my captain wants.
Rhys:
She will. Think it’s impossible for her not to help.
But I’m sending it now. Expect a text with a shit-ton of !!!
Me:
Thanks for the warning.
While I waited for a response from him or an exclamation point laden message from her, I situated myself under the thankfully soft blanket. The pillows offered the same lush comfort, and my heavy lids closed within seconds.
I guess it doesn’t matter if I fall out of bed. As long as I drag the blanket and pillows with me, the floor may be more comfortable than this mattress.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZOINKS, DICKWAD
RHYS
