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“It’s OK,” I say quickly. “I’d like to see where you work.” I give him a sunny smile, and it must work, because he shrugs.
“It’s not that exciting, I can warn you.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I follow him through the busy lobby, all chrome and class, and over to the elevators. “What you do is pretty impressive. I couldn’t imagine doing anything like this.”
When we step out on the thirtieth floor, I follow behind Sebastian. I know I’m supposed to be scoping the offices, but I’m momentarily distracted by the view. All of London is stretched out around us, and I can see for miles.
“You really get to look at this every day?” I ask him.
Sebastian blinks, like he’s never even noticed. “It’s fine, I suppose. This way.”
Wolfe Capital is buzzing, with serious looking people tapping away on computers and talking on the phone. The décor is much like the house on the island: all minimal chic, with white and statement modern art.
If a place could smell like money, this would be the scent.
I follow him through the floor, trying to memorize faces as we pass. “You can wait in my office,” he says, showing me to a spacious corner room, decorated with nothing but a massive glass desk, executive chair, and then a small seating area.
Talk about a power view.
“I won’t be long,” he says, closing the door behind him. Immediately, I look around, ready to investigate.
There’s not much here to look at. It’d be nice if there was a folder marked ‘Sebastian’s Dirty Secrets’, but I can’t even see a laptop anywhere. There’s nothing personal to his décor here. No pictures or knickknacks. This could be anyone’s office.
Is that a way to protect himself? Or is he so soulless that he doesn’t need anything other than the money he makes at this place?
I scan the room. No files, no folders, no desk drawers to rifle through.
Damn it.
I look around the room again, and this time, I notice something uneven about the black marble paneling on one wall.
I move closer and run my fingers over the grooves. I press down, and the panel springs out slightly. I pull and find there’s shelving behind it: Bookcases and crevices built into the wall.
The whole place is a filing cabinet!
There’s nothing interesting behind this one, just a wet bar with expensive liquor, so I glance quickly at the door to check nobody’s coming, before testing another panel.
This one reveals a safe, hidden behind the paneling.
Now we’re getting somewhere. I try to pull it open, but it’s locked with an old-fashioned lock. I’m immediately intrigued. This is the first thing I’ve found that’s protected. Which means Sebastian feels it’s important enough to have a safety measure.
Would he hide the key in here, too?
I won’t know for sure unless I look. I go back to his desk, and run my hands over the smooth glass, in case there’s some kind of hidden compartment, I search my mind for other options. Inside one of the other panels? Tucked into a secret box?
My eyes land on one of the paintings. Could a key be behind it, hiding in plain sight?
It’s worth a shot. I glance at the door, nervous, as I reach for the painting. I carefully pull it out from the wall, peeking behind it—
“Avery?”
I jump, nearly ripping the painting right off the wall in my surprise. I whip my head around to see that Becca has appeared out of nowhere, standing in the now-open doorway.
“Oh. Hi!” I’m trying to sound casual, even as I careful put the painting back into place and wait for my heart to stop skittering in my chest.
“What are you doing?” she asks, frowning. She’s wearing another chic business outfit: a boxy navy top with white wide-legged pants, with a flashy gold buckled belt around her waist.
“Just waiting for Sebastian.” I say quickly. “He had some papers to sign?”
