And I hoped quick—both because I was nearing Rye and because I preferred to talk to Murdoch as little as possible.
“Nothing,” he said. “Patrol says it’s been clear this week outside of the security company. Do you have anything?”
“Not yet,” I said.
And kinda lied.
The day before, Glitch had run me through how he’d found the wires and the possible—or probable—outcomes if he reconnected them. I’d mulled it over during the rest of my time there, the silent car ride home with Rhys, and all night before deciding not to share about the signal jacker. If something else was found or it became more pertinent, I would. But as things stood, there wasn’t much to garner from it. The full panel andwire change had fixed the streaming problem. No other jackers, devices, or trackers had been found—including the one that was still safely under the mat in Rhys’s car. Telling Murdoch guaranteed the tech team would be sent to dig through it all while likely undoing the new security measures MayCo worked hard to put into place. They would also insist that turning it on was worth the risk when it wasn’t their business they were risking.
“I’m guessing tonight is when things really get going,” I added.
“You prepared?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Message me if anything comes up. I’m sending the call logs and reports you requested. Check-in will be Sunday morning. Until then, stay safe.”
And then he hung up on me.
The craziest part was it was probably the best interaction we’d ever had.
I jumped when my music kicked back on, just as loud as before. I started the song from the beginning and rebuilt the calm the call had interrupted. My timing was elite, and the last few beats petered out just as I turned into the employee lot. Rather than a MayCo van and motorcycles, it was filled with normal cars like mine.
Out of place near the townhouses, but it definitely fits in here.
Flipping down the visor, I checked for anything in my teeth, raccoon smudges under my eyes from my enthusiastic singing, or my hair sticking out all over.
Everything looked fine, so I climbed out and approached the door.
Here goes… everything.
I didn’t get the chance to punch in the code before the door was suddenly open. The friendly smile on my face froze when I saw Rhys.
AglaringRhys.
I had no clue why. I was a half hour early.
He backed up the pissy expression with a pissy tone when he asked, “What’re you wearing?”
For whatever reason, I glanced down at myself like my clothes had magically changed in the car. Unsurprisingly, they had not. I still wore a pair of fashionably loose jeans and a fitted pink tee. Totally normal.
Okay, maybe not for me. If I wasn’t in suits for work, I lived in hoodies and athleisure to recoup some of the comfort I missed out on during those long shifts. But it’d been nice to delve back into the barely touched portion of my wardrobe. Same with leaving my hair down and going heavier on my makeup than I usually did.
It wasn’t like I’d done a full beat with maximum glam or anything. That would be counterintuitive if I wanted to blend in. Just a little more than the no-makeup makeup look I’d perfected.
I’d seen what Harlow wore the night she was behind the bar. I’d seen what Daisy wore—aftershe put her clothes back on. I thought I nailed the vibe perfectly.
His words and glower said otherwise.
“Is this because I’m not in a regency gown?” I asked. “Because you already called dibs.”
He didn’t laugh. The side of his eyes didn’t even crinkle. No dimples. Nothing. Nada.
Just a stony expression as he scanned me up and down.
It could’ve been because he was stressed over how the night would go. Whether staff would show. If there would be moreincidents. How the fate of his bar could be influenced by my ability to do both of my jobs.
But that didn’t give him carte blanche to insult me.
