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Bex shakes her head as she neatly places books in piles of five in front of her. Her hair is down today, swinging around her face freely instead of tucked back into a braid or ponytail like she typically does for the nights she volunteers with charities. However, she’s in yoga pants and one of my gym shirts, fighting down a smirk as she pushes her pink glasses up her pert nose. “Fifty-seven,” she announces before looking across the room towards Whitney.
Aillard’s girlfriend stares down at the massive pile of books in front of her, not in any sort of productive measurement before she throws her hands in the air in exasperation. “Too many,” Whitney grumbles, causing Bex to laugh.
“I’ll count them,” Aillard grunts, nudging his girlfriend aside.
“No way,” I cut in. “You’ll lie if it’s not above fifty-seven.” Walking over to his table, I start helping him pile them in a similar manner Bex used to make sure he doesn’t cheat.
“You both are hopeless,” Bex tells us.
“I can’t believe they actually waited for us to come back,” Whitney chuckles. “Sometimes I wonder how they run their own empires when they behave like children in private.”
“It’s because we can afford to behave like children in private,” Aillard scowls at her. “Don’t think you won’t pay for that comment later.”
“Ooh,” Whitney taunts, “I’m so scared of you. What are you going to do? Slap my ass?”
The look Aillard shoots over my shoulder pretty much guarantees that will be happening later. I don’t need to see that and neither does Bex. Glaring at my best friend, I jab my finger onto the table. “Don’t even think about doing it in a public setting.”
Something akin to evil glee enters Aillard’s gaze as he smirks at me. “Why? Are you going to report me to HR for sexual harassment?” He waves his hand towards Whitney. “Well? There she is, go report me.”
“Is this the way you behave when you check security measures at my shelters?” King’s voice cuts in as he arrives at the office with Emilia in tow. They both look like they’re ready to wind down for the night in simple loungewear.
Aillard flips him off for daring to ask such a question.
Emilia waves to both the girls before looking at Aillard and I like we’re hopeless. “What are the two of you doing?”
“Counting books,” Whitney interrupts before either of us can.
“They stacked books inside the boxes and are trying to determine who can place more,” Bex further explains. “Thorin got fifty-seven, but Whitney didn’t care about the game so she didn’t actually count Aillard’s.”
“Iknewyou were bullshitting me when you were pulling them out!” Aillard shouts.
“So now Thorin and Aillard are going to count to see if he did more or not,” Bex finishes with a roll of her eyes.
King scoffs. I wait for the impendingthis is beneath youcomment, but he surprises me. “You’re going to let both of them count? They’ll purposely miscount just to best each other.I’llcount.”
“They’re children,” Whitney grumbles.
“Agreed,” Emilia says.
Before King can berate Emilia for ganging up on him, his phone goes off. He glares at her, though with not anywhere near the amount of anger he would use on anyone else. No, for her King becomes a soft, almost marshmallow type romantic who loves her unconditionally. He brings his phone up to his ear, barking out, “What?” in a manner to let whoever is on the other end of the line that this better be important.
King’s gaze swings to me and my stomach drops to my knees. Whatever this is can’t be good.
From the look on his face, the default expression of impatience, it’s hard to tell how serious the matter is. It could be anything from backlash over my interview earlier this week to stocks dropping at Ward Enterprises. However both of those are doubtful since Holly has been religiously monitoring the online comments over my interview. No one has said anything negative about it. At least not that I’m aware of. Perhaps King knows differently.
Bex comes up beside me, slipping her hand into mine as we gather around King and wait for whatever news to be shared. He continues listening, nodding his head slightly at random intervals. Whoever is on the other hand is speaking too low for any of us to make out what the garbled noises mean, but it doesn’t sound like they’re ranting, just over-caffeinated.
“Alright, keep an eye on it,” King says before hanging up, his eyes still on me. “There’s been a development.”
“A good one or a bad one?” Emilia asks, digging her own phone out of her pocket and clicking away.
“Depends whose side you’re on,” King answers. “Gabriel Donner’s former assistant came forward.”
Emilia’s brow wrinkles, echoing my own confusion. “What former assistant?” she asks.
“It would seem Gabriel Donner paid for an apartment for her under the contingency that she speak with several of Thorin’sfriendsregarding his birthday party who were there. I guess your interview spooked her,” King explains. “She’s made a formal statement with the police.”
“Does she know who drugged me?” I ask.
