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Chapter 27
Saffi
The Man in the Venetian Mask.
That looked damn good on paper.
Thanks, G, man of mystery. And sex god…
In the office the next morning, exhausted and drained by that insane session with my masked friend, I found myself on an unexpected roll. I sat at my computer and wrote for three hours straight. When the gang came by to give me their Chinese food order, I actually told them I was too busy.
God that felt good.
Tom invited himself into my cube.
“What?” I asked as I kept typing.
He frowned. “Saff, my friend. What’re you so busy with? Heard you couldn’t even get us lunch.”
I whirled to face him. “Why don’t you get your own goddamn lunch, Tom?”
His eyes widened and his head snapped back. “Damn. Okay. I see how it is. Guess somebody’s on her period. I’ll leave you alone now. Although I did come over here to ask you something.”
I pursed my lips in annoyance. “What?”
“Well, did you want to go out for a drink sometime after work?”
I was done.
“Get out of my goddamn cube. And if you ever talk about my period or anyone else’s again, I will go right to HR.”
He backed up, the color draining from his face.
I turned back to my writing after a couple deep breaths. I desperately needed to know more about the club—how long had it been around, how many members were there, how much money did it take in? And how did they keep the outside world from finding out about it? That would complete the story. And cement my reputation.
* * *
Just as I popped two aspirin, my editor, Ed, showed up at my desk.
“Saffi! You got a headache or something?” he asked.
I put on my “perky face” and looked at him. “Hey, Ed. I’m actually great. The story’s coming along really well. I was just taking a break from writing.”
That was only a little lie.
“Good. Good.” He stood there, hands on hips, like he expected something.
So I jumped in with small talk. “You having a good day?”
“Oh yeah. Great day.”
We kept looking at each other.
“Saffi, do you have something I could take a look at yet? Get a sense of how the story is coming together?”
Shit. I was afraid of that. “Yeah, sure. I mean… Well, can I have some more time with it first? I need to get a little more info about the club itself. It hasn’t proved easy to do that.”
“I can imagine. But I want something by end of the week. Okay?”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Ed.”
Whew. That was a close one. Now, how was I going to finish the damn story?
And was I going to see G again?
As if he’d read my mind, a text popped up on my phone.
club? tonight?
Maybe he’d be the ticket to the info I needed. If I could get him to talk. And other things…
yes. 9?
c u then
Okay. That was taken care of.
I dialed my dad.
“Hey sweetie,” he answered.
“Hey, Dad. I’m going out after work tonight, so don’t wait on me for dinner.”
“Okay. Hey, I saw my client, Varden, in a meeting this morning. You remember him?”
Wasn’t he that good-looking guy from dinner? “Yeah, I remember him. He seemed distracted by some ladies at the bar.”
My dad laughed. “Well, he is a bit of a ladies’ man. Anyway, he asked for you. I thought that was nice.”
I made that much of an impression? “Really? He barely spoke to me that night.”
“Well, he seemed to remember you fondly.”
“That’s nice. Anyway, I’ll probably see you in the morning then, okay?”
“Sounds good. Love you.”
Next, I phoned Nelle.
“Hey there,” she answered.
“Hi. Got time for a drink after work?”
“Sure! See you at six?” she suggested.
“Awesome. See you then.”
I needed to see Nelle, but first had to clear my head. I headed to the mailroom for a long walk.
* * *
