Page 22 of Boardroom Sins

I flee.

When I’m back in the lobby, I dump the scraps in the waste bin next to my desk. My hands are still trembling, so I wipe them on my skirt even though there’s nothing on them.

Now, what…?

The pen.Right. I need to go get the pen.

I head back toward the unmarked door, the one Lukas dragged me through this morning. It’s still there, blending into the wall like it doesn’t want to be found. I push it open and step into the darkness.

The hallway is just as cramped and unlit as before. My heels are so painfully loud and harsh on my frayed nerves that I leave them by the entrance and sneak in on bare feet.

As I walk, I keep one hand on the wall to guide myself. I’m almost to the meeting room when I hear voices.

They’re coming from somewhere ahead of me. Low and male. Speaking in hushed tones that weren’t meant to carry.

I freeze.

“—don’t know what he’s thinking.” That’s the scarred man from the meeting. I recognize the rasp in his voice. “She’s green. Jumpy as hell. Did you see her hands shaking?”

Another voice, this one deeper. One of the older men, maybe. “She’s pretty, though. I’ll give him that.”

“Pretty doesn’t keep her mouth shut when things get ugly.”

“That’s his problem, not ours.”

My blood goes cold. I press myself against the wall. The darkness feels suffocating now.

“What was her name again?” the deeper voice asks. “The new girl.”

“Everett. Rae Everett.”

Hearing my own name in that scarred man’s mouth makes my skin crawl.

“Think she knows what she signed up for?”

He chuckles. “Does anyone?”

“Not a one. Almost a shame.”

Footsteps. Getting closer.

I hold my breath. My heart is pounding so loud I’m sure they can hear it.

“Just like the last one,” the scarred man says. His voice is right there now, maybe ten feet away. “All wide eyes and good intentions. Won’t last.”

The footsteps pass. A door opens somewhere behind me. Light spills in for a second, then disappears as it swings shut.

I stay pressed against the wall for what feels like forever. My lungs burn until I finally let myself exhale.

Just like the last one.What does that mean? Who was “the last one”? What happened to her?

I force myself to keep moving. One foot in front of the other. The meeting room door is just ahead.

I push it open. The room is empty now. The chairs are still arranged around the table. The air smells like cigarette smoke and Lukas’s cologne.

The pen is right where I left it.

I pick it up and run.