Page 116 of Never Forget

For once, I’m the one banging on Cory’s door. I almost hope he’s got someone in there with him, or that he was two seconds from nutting and my voice outside his door was just enough of a nuisance that he can’t finish. Payback and all that.

But when he answers the door, he’s fully dressed, shoes and all.

“Are you going somewhere?” I ask.

“No.” I sweep my eyes over his typical uniform of dark jeans, black security polo, and heavy black boots. He even has his work phone clipped to one side of his belt and a taser on the other. “I like to be ready,” he says, reading my confused expression.

“Whatever. Do you want to go somewhere?”

“What’s up?”

I hold up my phone and show him the text I got from Emmy. I was in the shower when it came through, and I tried to call him back, but he didn’t answer.

Emmy: I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.

Emmy: I’m supposed to meet Kathy from IT at the cafe downstairs today at 1pm.

Naz: Of course it’s not your fault. How could you have known?

Naz: Do you mind if we crash your lunch and ask her some questions?

He hasn’t texted me back, but I figure he wouldn’t have told me the time and place for his lunch meeting if he didn’t expect me to show up.

Cory’s eyes shift from my phone to me, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that I didn’t even bother buttoning until I was standing here waiting for the door to open.

“It’s after noon already. Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I just got out of the shower. I came straight here when I read the text.”

“I’m leaving in five, with or without you.”

Not wasting another second, I throw on a t-shirt, socks, and shove my feet into a pair of Converse. Cory is already waiting for me outside my door when I make it out with minutes to spare.

The cafe on the lobby floor of the label’s building is accessible both through the lobby and through a storefront door on the street. It’s decorated with signed posters and memorabilia of all the artists the label has produced. As their most popular artists, Lest Is Moore has an entire wall dedicated to us. There are ten foot tall black and white portraits of each of us lining the back of the cafe. Our gold and platinum records, as well as framed awards, photos, and articles, hang around them. It’s a little embarrassing to walk in here and see my face and half my naked torso blown up like that, but the wall itself is a testament to how far we’ve come. Overall, the label has been good to us. We’ve had issues here and there. Like when we wanted to get rid of Francis, but they cared more about making money than our health and well-being. We are as successful as we are because they gave us a chance, and because we make them so much money, they rarely try to dictate how we do things.

Stopping just inside the public entry, Cory and I sweep our eyes over the cafe. It’s not too busy for the tail end of the lunch rush on a weekday, but it’s busy enough that we have to comb through the crowd. I look down at the photo from the employee directory again. Kathy is a white woman in her early thirties with long, dark hair and bangs.

Cory spots her sitting at the far side of the room, her back to the wall. She’s looking around the room, brow furrowed, then checks her watch.

I decided I should do the talking, at least at first, in case Cory comes on a little too strong. His stoic nature and hulking posture isn’t always conducive to friendly conversations. Emmy says she’s nice, so I’m going to walk into this hoping she wasn’t knowingly complicit.

“Hi, Kathy?” I say when we reach her.

“Hmm?” Kathy looks up, her dark blue eyes widening when she sees me standing in front of her. Her eyes briefly cut over to Cory, and then back to me. “H-Hi?”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Naz,” I say, reaching out a hand to shake. She returns it tentatively, looking a little awestruck and confused.

“Did Emmy set this up?” she asks, giggling awkwardly. “I was wondering why he isn’t here yet.”

“Actually, we thought he’d be with you. He told me you two were having lunch today, and I asked if I could join you, but he didn’t get back to me before it was time to leave. So here I am,” I say, holding my hands out like ta-da. “Do you mind if we join you?”

Kathy looks at Cory again. “Um. No, of course not.” She grabs her purse and moves to stand, most likely thinking we’ll need a bigger table. I wave her to sit back down.

“You don’t have to move. We’re fine here,” I tell her. I sit directly across from her, where I’m assuming Emmy was supposed to be. Cory sits at the small bistro table next to us.

“So,” I say, giving her my friendliest smile. “You’re new here, right?”

Kathy’s eyes dart around. “Um. Yeah. Not quite a month yet.”