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“Well,” she said, sitting up straighter and sniffling. “You wanted to tell me something. What was it?”
“Well,” I said, hesitating. “I just wanted to thank you. That day off you gave me was really wonderful, and I feel so recharged.”
“That’s fabulous.” She smiled. “I have to say you’ve been an entirely new woman ever since we hired Barry on. I think he’s a good influence on you. I was trying to figure out how to talk to you about the human element, but now I see I don’t need to.”
I forced a smile. “Yep. Barry is great.”
She winked, and I realized she was reading way more into my comment than I intended.
“Well, I’ve got some calls to make. Why don’t you go back to your office and give Barry a big, tight hug and a kiss on the cheek for me. Tell him Mrs. Glass can’t thank him enough for making her favorite employee even more amazing.”
I got up, smoothing out my dress. That would not end the way she’s imagining. “I’ll pass the message along.”
“Elizabeth,” she called as I was reaching for the door. “Remember to listen to your heart, not your head, okay?”
I nodded, although I wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell me. Did she want me to be in some sort of relationship with Travis?
Surely not. I had to hope she didn’t, at least. Mrs. Glass forbidding us from being together might be my only hope of escaping Travis and his unstoppable gravity.
18
TRAVIS
Another day at the office. Keyboards clattered, people murmured, and fluorescent lights hummed. Elizabeth seemed in a somewhat off mood, and in my infinite wisdom, I decided to give her a little space for an hour or two. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all.
So I was making my rounds. I stopped by the stapler guy’s desk and asked how his weird hobby was going. He was a balding guy in his fifties with a stapler collection—and I admired a good collection. His hobby was building “geodesic audio experiences.” I still didn’t completely understand what that meant, but if you asked the guy about them, he’d stop whatever he was doing and dive into a lengthy explanation.
I loved hearing people talk about their passions, and figured it was as good a way to pass the time as any. Apparently, stapler guy’s latest creation had some sort of glass maze full of water vapor lit by LED lights so it looked like you were on fire? Yeah. Super confusing. I just hoped he wasn’t chopping people up in these things, but he claimed he took them to music festivals and people loved them.
I had to dodge Elizabeth’s intern, Addie, and a few others from the office who were trying to flirt after that. Eventually, I decided I should probably do some kind of investigation. I’d been doing a damn good job of not thinking about how Mrs. Glass’ evidence could land me and my friends in jail, but the thought did occasionally bounce around in my head.
With that in mind, I went looking for Mrs. Glass. She wasn’t in her office, so I checked around the auxiliary buildings. Glass Designs took up a couple floors of a skyscraper downtown, and one floor was a fitness center the whole building had access to. It was nice, and I knew Mrs. Glass sometimes snuck away to get a workout in. What better place to catch her off guard and get some secrets divulged?
I headed down, checked in at the front desk, and scanned the large room for any sign of her. Sure enough, she was power walking on a treadmill in leopard print leggings and a revealing yellow top that was slashed stylistically to show plenty of skin. Good for her. I always admired older folks who weren’t afraid to flaunt what they still had.
I was about to approach when I noticed she was chatting up a short, bald man with a thick build. Mrs. Glass was probably just shy of six feet tall. This man might’ve been five six on a good day. He wasn’t much of a looker, either, and something about the way they were talking caught my eye.
To the ordinary observer, it was just a conversation. There she was, power walking. There he was, mop bucket in hand and a “STAFF” t-shirt on. She would say something while his back was turned and he’d say something back, but the secret was in the way her gaze intensified every time he wasn’t looking.
Oh, my. I hopped on a machine—the one where you open your legs wide and scissor them together. This was a time for blending in, even though I was still clad in my dress shirt, tie, and slacks. I started aggressively scissoring my legs as I watched the scene unfold.
Was there some sort of sordid affair here? Was Mrs. Glass sneaking down to the gym during lunch breaks to bump uglies with an hourly employee in the gym? And no offense to him, because I was sure he had a great personality, but why that guy? She was loaded and probably could’ve snagged herself a spry young man of sixty-five with great veneers.
