Page 7 of Collin: Episodes 1-3
Collin shook his head. “Bartender’s union says I can’t spill trade secrets, ma’am. The bosses, they’re ruthless, like the mob.”
“Not even half a secret?”
Collin grinned. “No, but you could tell me yours. Unlike a therapist, I don’t even have to keep records that we talked.”
She shook her head, smiling. “Don’t you have class in the morning?”
“Class?”
“Yeah, aren’t you a student?”
“I mean, yes, I am, but how’d you know?”
“My brother, you know him as Mr. Reevesworth, he told me.” She sat up, straightening her shirt and shaking out her hair, a perfect cut falling around her face. She held out a card. “If you want to know more, come to my office tomorrow, ready to sign an NDA, and I’ll show you around.”
“You’re…his sister?”
“Damian said you asked about whether or not women were respected in our circles. Thought I’d put those concerns to rest. Five o’clock. Tomorrow. My office. Address is on the card. That should give you enough time to get there from your last class. I promise we’ll be finished before you start your shift at the hotel.”
Collin took the card with a hand that felt like someone else’s. “Dress code?”
“Don’t worry about it. We’re not at that part yet.”
She spun off her seat, showing no signs of intoxication, and strode out the door.
Left behind on the counter was a fifty-dollar bill.
Linda Reevesworth’s offices were on the twenty-second floor. Her company name was something that could have covered any number of industries or multiple ones. Her LinkedIn profile looked like her PR person had put in something nice as a placeholder but left off anything specific. Google turned up a variety of photos that matched the woman he’d seen attending various events, but details were scarce. She appeared to have attended the University of Washington and Oxford. She wasn’t on Facebook. At least not as herself.
Collin smoothed his hair in the mirror of the elevator and adjusted his backpack over his shoulder. There were two companies on the floor he stepped out on. Linda Reevesworth’s was pleasant looking: frosted glass across the front reception and trees inside. Real ones, from the looks of them. A receptionist, a young person with an undercut hairstyle, black eyeliner, and a corset wrapped around their waist, stood to greet him. They looked like a vampire’s formal secretary if the apocalypse had come and supernaturals now ruled the world. Their black skirt—or maybe it was a train—flowed to the floor in the back, but they were also wearing suit pants.
Collin bowed. That’s what one did in court, right?
“Collin Ryker, yes?” Their voice was smooth, rich, and carried a hint of British nobility.
“Yes, sir, ma’am, I mean…” Collin trailed off.
“My lady will see you at once. Last office in the corner. Go all the way to the end of the hall, then take the turn, and go until you can’t anymore.”
“Got it. I mean, thank you.” Collin bobbed his head one more time and turned, not daring to look up.
Someone could have warned me! Nothing about Linda Reevesworth had prepared him for that.
Linda was standing inside her office, flipping through photos on a tablet. She put it down and turned as Collin approached. “Come inside. I see Ellisandre got you to the right place.”
Collin nodded. “Yes, ma’am, they did.”
Linda smiled and hummed lightly. “Leave your bag. It looks heavy. And we have some walking to do. After you sign. Take your time to read it.” She waved at a small side desk beside the couch and chairs forming the sitting room side of her office.
The NDA was simple enough. It covered a great deal of personal items and business. It didn’t preclude him from taking any particular employment, just from speaking about his time with certain individuals, including Mr. Reevesworth, Mr. Moreau, Linda Reevesworth, their mentees and employees, and a few others. Collin signed. At this point, he’d come so far his curiosity demanded it.
What followed was one of the fastest walking tours of Collin’s life, starting with several project boards in the office and a few minutes outside on the city’s ground level during which she pointed out improvements in the city.
“We have fifteen more minutes before you have to leave for your shift at the hotel.” Linda punched the buttons on the elevator for her floor. “What do you think?
“I think very few people know what you’re working so hard to do. And I wonder what’s in it for you?”
“Ah, that question.” Linda tipped her head back, smiling. “Would you believe me if I told you it was peaceful sleep and a life of no regrets?”
