Page 24 of Freefall

“Hi,” she says, finally lowering her finger. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Nate Caldwell.”

Her eyes narrow as she takes me in, no doubt deciding whether or not I look like someone who might actually have a meeting with who I assume is her boss. Her piercing blue eyes skim over my graphic tee, down to my jeans, until they land on the multicolored beaded bracelet Daisy made for me. She seems wholly unimpressed as she turns to one of her computer screens and then back at me. “Eight forty-two is an odd time for an appointment. Are you early or late?”

“Oh, actually, I⁠—”

She waves her hand. “It doesn’t matter. What’s your name? I’ll let his assistant know you’re here.”

“Harper, but I⁠—”

“Harper…” She drags my name out like she’s waiting for the rest of it.

“Harper Daniels.” Before I can add anything else, she cuts me off again and raises a phone to her ear.

“Hi, Cam. There’s a Harper Daniels here for Mr. Caldwell,” she says into the receiver. “No. I don’t know. Yes, that’s what I asked.”

She looks me over again, and I give her my best approximation of a formal smile.

“Okay. No, we did Thai yesterday. Fine, but we’re getting the curry noodles this time.”

As she hangs up, her eyes settle on the bracelet I’m nervously playing with. “Mr. Caldwell is currently in a meeting and doesn’t have any appointments scheduled this morning.”

“Oh,” I say as if I were expecting a different answer, even though based on her brief conversation with Cam, I’m pretty sure this is where it was all headed. “What I was trying to say earlier is that I don’t have an appointment, but I do need to speak with him.” She lifts a plastic iced coffee cup to her matching candy-apple-red lips, taking a slow sip through the straw before setting it back down in the small puddle left by the condensation. “It’s somewhat urgent,” I add.

“I see.” Why does she keep looking at my bracelet? “Well, you can call his assistant and set up an appointment, but I doubt he has any availability today.”

Having anticipated this response and made up my mind about twenty seconds ago, I give her an understanding nod. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

She gives me a tight-lipped smile and goes back to her two screens.

“Oh,” I say, turning to leave. “Can I use your restroom real quick?”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, clearly having assumed she was done with me. Unwilling to spare me another glance, she tips her head toward the hallway behind me. “Second door on the right.”

“Great, thanks.”

Damn it. I was hoping it was in the other direction.

I wait until her attention is firmly back on the screens and then make a run for it. And by run, I mean a brisk speed-walk. I don’t dare look back, but given that I don’t hear any shrill screams, I assume she didn’t even notice.

I walk into the open workspace, past several people typing at wooden desks with multiple screens and ergonomic black chairs, but no one seems to notice me. For a security company, they seem pretty lax. I waltzed in here, and no one seems to care.

There's a corridor ahead on the other side with what appear to be private offices. Most of them have glass walls, letting me see inside, where more people are typing at desks or talking on the phone, but there’s one at the end with the shades completely drawn.

That must be his office.

I’m almost there when my eyes catch on a set of glass doors with the words “Operations Center” at the top. Standing right in front of them is a large man in all black wearing a discreet but still visible earpiece.

Oh, no.

No, no, no, no, no.

I attempt to look away so he doesn’t notice my nervous expression, but he turns his head before I get the chance, and for two horrifying seconds, we make eye contact. Once again, I choose to run.

This time it’s more of a jog, and out of the corner of my eye I can see him crossing the room. Before I even realize what’s happened, he’s directly in front of me.

“Excuse me, miss? Can I help you?”