Page 98 of Takedown

“You’re the boss.” I don’t think he buys my quick acquiescence. His eyes narrow again, and he takes a step closer, but he nods and gestures for me to follow him to his private elevator.

We go down four floors, and the second we step into the suite, the receptionist lets out a loud gasp and drops the phone she had to her ear. She stands and stammers, “Mr. Bradford, is there, uh, how can I help you, sir? I had no idea you were stopping by today.”

She visibly swallows and starts to look at something on her computer screen.

“What’s your name?” Ethan asks.

“Mikayla Greene, sir.”

“Mikayla, I’m here to see Kent James.”

She looks at her computer screen and says, “I don’t see anything on his calendar.” She’s brave, this one, but the look Ethan gives her makes her take a step back. Her eyes dart from Ethan to me. She blinks twice when she sees my face.

“I don’t need to make an appointment,” he says.

“Yes, sir. He’s in his office.” She points to a door at the end of the long hallway. Ethan doesn’t bother to say thank you, and I follow him through the rows of cubicles until we get to his office.

He bursts through the door without knocking, and the noise startles the asshole so much that he drops his coffee cup in his lap.

“Fuck!” He jumps out of his chair, grabs a stack of napkins, and dabs at his crotch. The hot coffee is the least of his problems.

“James,” Ethan says. He drops the napkins and finally looks up. He swallows and takes an involuntary step back. I look at the fucker. He’s about six feet, and he looks like he works out. I picture him trying to intimidate my wife. I look down at his large hands and imagine them on her. He’s lucky that hole puncher was there because if it wasn’t, and he had succeeded in hurting Mel, he’d already be dead.

Mel is no coward. She won’t let anyone intimidate her, but this asshole is much bigger than she is. He could have easily subdued her, and I don’t doubt he would have done just that if she hadn’t hit him across the face.

“Mr. Bradford?” He poses it like a question, but I can sense his nervousness from across the room. He knows something is amiss. He smooths his tie and runs a hand over his face. “Is there something I can help you with?”

I crack my neck. That’s strike one. He’s already said too much.

“I’m here about an employee who worked here three years ago. Melanie Dupree. She was a claims specialist in this department. She only worked here two years and reported to you.”

He swallows again, and a sheen of sweat suddenly coats his large forehead. He walks behind his desk and takes a seat. I watch as he pretends to think about Ethan’s question. He has the audacity and the balls to hold a finger up, signaling for us to wait while he searches his computer.

Strike two.

He looks from Ethan to me and loudly clears his throat. I can see he’s trying to figure out who I am and why I’m here.

“Ah, yes. Ms. Dupree.”

“Flynn,” I tell him.

He looks up, confused by my statement. “Excuse me?” he says.

“Her last name is Flynn. She’s a married woman now.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m Adam Flynn.”

He clears his throat and stares back at his computer. “Yes, she was a marginal employee with a temper to boot. After giving her a poor evaluation, she decided she would attack me with a hole puncher. To the face,” he adds for emphasis.

Mel’s a lot of things, but she’s no marginal employee. I’ve seen her work. I’ve heard her on the phone. She gives that damn job her all. He looks at us and plasters an arrogant smile on his face. I grimace, and the idiot mistakes it for a smile. He visibly relaxes and sticks the final nail in his coffin. He turns the computer around and shows us a smiling picture of a young Mel with a copy of her last evaluation. “You know how those types are. They want everything handed to them without doing the work.” He lets out a laugh, and when neither of us laughs back he starts to cough to mask his embarrassment.

“Those types?” Ethan asks.

“Yes, you know what I’m saying. Women. Everything is politically correct these days, but people like us,” he says, gesturing between himself and Ethan, “give them a chance, and it’s never enough.”

Strike three.

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