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“Have a good day,” I said to her, wiggling my fingers.
“Everything okay?” She asked.
I stopped walking and looked over. Amber seemed like a nice person. She seemed like a genuinely caring soul who had been through a hard time. Losing Rebecca must have been rough.
“I hope so,” I said.
“What do you mean? Don’t you have a meeting with Mr. Locke? Usually, your meetings don’t end quite so early.”
Amber didn’t speak from a place of judgment. She knew Locke. She’d known him for a long time. She probably figured that we were fucking around, and she’d be right in assuming that, but still, she didn’t seem to be bothered or upset with this fact. She didn’t look like she was trying to catch me being a bad girl. Amber just seemed like she wanted to make sure I was okay.
“I’m still doing research for him,” I said lamely.
It sounded stupid even to me.
“Okay?”
“He didn’t show up for our meeting today, though,” I said.
“He was in this morning,” she said carefully. “But he left right before you got here. I should have said something, but I was in the restroom when you came by,” she blushed.
“It’s fine,” I said. The reception desk had been strangely empty when I’d come in, but I didn’t worry about it.
“I should have warned you,” she said. “But I totally missed you coming in, and honestly, I figured he had just forgotten something from his car. He’s so bad about that. He always comes and goes.”
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Sure.”
“Do you know where this address is?”
I held up the phone.
Considering the fact that Amber paled as soon as she saw the address, I figured that yeah, it was safe to say she knew the place.
But she lied.
“Nope,” she said, licking her lips. She looked down at some papers in front of her. “I have no idea.”
“Seriously?” I laughed. I wasn’t letting her off easy.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You should probably just go meet him. Sounds important.”
“Amber, what aren’t you telling me? You went white as a ghost when you saw that text. I know you know what I’m walking into. Can you give me any sort of heads up?”
She frowned, looking up at me. Then she glanced around the empty lobby, as though someone was going to appear. Nobody was. It was early on a Saturday morning, and the only people who were coming in today were realtors who were totally work-obsessed with no real lives.
“Look,” she said, lowering her voice. “You didn’t hear this from me.”
“Okay.”
“That address...” She stared at my phone like it was going to bite her. I pulled it back and slid it back into the pocket of my skirt. Yeah, my skirt had pockets. I’d finally learned how to shop appropriately.
“What about it?”
“It’s for a place called the Weston Estate,” she said.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
