Page 90 of Swerve
The office is dimly lit by a lamp on the corner of a desk in the center of the room. At the back of the office, an open door reveals part of a bathroom. Knox is weighing his options when Sarah launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him as if she’s been on a deserted island without male company for a few years at least.
He follows her lead, backing her across the room until they bump the desk.
“Oh, my gosh,” she says, pulling back for a moment to begin unbuttoning his shirt. “You are so beautiful. This isn’t the kind of thing that ever happens to me.”
“I find that hard to believe.” He lowers his head to kiss her neck, untying the scarf at her throat. By the time he gets the knot undone, she has his shirt completely unbuttoned and is starting on his pants.
He pulls the scarf free from her blouse and spins her around to pin her against the desk.
“Whoa, cowboy,” she says, laughing.
He slides his hands down her arms, grasps her wrists, and pulls them behind her back.
“Hey,” she says, her laugh a little less certain now.
He quickly wraps the scarf around her wrists, whipping the fabric in a circle until he can secure it with a knot.
“Are we going Fifty Shades?” she asks on an uncertain giggle.
“Actually, Sarah,” he says, swooping her up in his arms and holding her tight against him as he heads for the bathroom, “I’m going to have to put you on hold for a few minutes.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s something I need to do, and I’ll need you to wait in here.”
He sets her down inside the shower stall, running his hands up and down her jacket and skirt in search of a phone. He finds it tucked inside a pocket, pulls it out and sets it on the sink before pulling the shower door closed. He reaches for the toilet brush beside the sink and wedges it through the door handles, effectively locking them.
Sarah stares at him in disbelief. “You can’t leave me in here!”
“It’s nothing personal.”
“Why are you doing this? If she finds me here, I’ll be fired!”
“I’d like to prevent that, but conflict of interest, I’m afraid.”
“You ass!” she screams. “Let me out!”
He slams the door before the next expletive can reach his ears. Knowing he has limited time, he turns on the flashlight of his phone, not wanting to light up the office any more than necessary. He sits down on the chair behind the desk and begins opening drawers. The middle one holds nothing more than pens and paper clips. A side drawer contains some bland-looking files and envelopes.
The next two lower drawers are locked. He slides the chair back and drops to his knees to look under the center of the desk. He aims his phone flashlight at the corners, then slides his hand along the edges.
Bingo.
A small bracket holds what feels like a remote of some sort.
He tugs it free from the holder and pulls it out, recognizing it as similar to the one he’d watched the owner of the hotel open that elevator with.
He jumps to his feet. Now to find Emory.
Emory
“The more I see, the less I know for sure.”
?John Lennon
I’M SITTING IN a chair in the lobby, looking at my phone and trying to act as if my nerves aren’t leaping beneath their pulse points. Facebook isn’t holding my interest though, and I throw another nervous glance at the lobby entryway, wondering what Knox has gotten himself into.
It’s then that I see him standing just inside the archway that leads to the restaurant. He waves for me to follow him. I get up and walk casually across the wood floor, and by the time I reach the arch, he’s already jogging down the hallway.
