Page 5 of Strictly Yours

I open the glass doors and walk into the empty lobby that I’m sure was teeming with busy men in suits and women wearing the finest corporate fashions only a few hours ago. But it’s nearly ten o’clock at night and the only person in here is a skeptical old security guard looking at me over his glasses.

With my shoulders back and my chin in the air, I roll my suitcase right up to the front desk and give him my most winningest smile. “Hello.”

“Bathrooms are for employees only,” he grunts.

“What about sisters of employees?”

His frown deepens. “Come again?”

“I’m Willow Fletcher’s sister.”

I’m expecting that frown to turn into a smile after my sister’s name drop, but it stays frozen on his unamused face.

“Willow Fletcher,” I repeat. “She works here at SIG. COO of Strickland Innovations Group. She’s kind of a big deal.”

“Everyone in this damn city thinks they’re a big deal,” he says.

“Not me,” I say with a grin. “I’m a tiny deal. Not really a deal at all. More full price.”

“Huh?” he says as my metaphor goes off the rails.

“I’m here to grab a key,” I say, reeling my crazy back in. “My sister left it on her desk upstairs. I’m cat-sitting for her while she’s in Hawaii and it’s kind of time-sensitive. Munchies is on a very strict medical timetable.”

“Munchies?” he says, blinking for the first time.

“I know right?” I say, leaning in. “I suggested Meowzart, but no one ever takes my opinion.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up. Just for a second.

“So, can I grab that key? She said she left my name with one of your colleagues.”

He sighs as he opens a file and starts cycling through some papers.

“Name?”

“Amber Fletcher.”

His eyebrow raises. “You got ID?”

I grab my driver’s license and hand it over, waiting for him to comment on my pink hair. It was a phase. An ill-advised one. I really wanted my head to look like cotton candy, but I’m back to my natural brown now.

“Alright,” he says as he hands it back to me with a visitor pass. “You got one hour. Don’t touch anything you don’t have to.”

“You got it,” I say as I grab my suitcase and head to the gate. “Hands to myself. Eyes only. Very professional. I can do that. At least, I’ll try really hard. No promises.”

He shakes his head like he’s rethinking his decision, but there’s a buzzing click and the security gate slides open. I walkover to the big luxurious elevators, swipe my visitor pass, and head up to the forty-seventh floor.

“Wow,” I whisper when I step out into Strickland Innovations Group. If the strategy is to look rich and successful, they’ve succeeded admirably.

A huge, gold-plated sign of their boring logo greets you over the empty reception desk. I look around, peeking down the hall at all of the glass doors to the many offices and conference rooms where big deals surely happen on a regular basis. They have to in order to afford a place like this. It’s spectacular, but I just wish it had some big tropical plants, or some funky art on the bland walls, orsomethingwith a bit of character. It’s corporate chic in here and it’s boring as hell.

This place is probably buzzing with ambitious, motivated people just like my sister during the day, but right now, it’s completely empty. I run my fingertip along the reception desk as I saunter past it, looking for Willow’s office. If I know my sister, she’s got the corner office, so I head there first.

I grin when I see her name etched onto the glass door.Willow Fletcher. Chief Of Operations.That’s my girl! Iloveit.

The door is locked until I swipe my visitor pass on the keypad and it clicks open. So high-tech. Super cool.

Willow’s office is unreal. It’s the corner, just as I expected, and the view of the city is incredible. I can see the Statue of Liberty from here and I give her a little wave.

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