Page 55 of Only the Devil
He gives me an exaggerated evil eye and I chuckle.
I’m staying positive and laughing it off, but the fact they hired someone else right after me? That tells me everything I need to know about how serious they are about this security department. Good thing this is a fake gig, because if this were my day-in, day-out future, my morale would be taking a nosedive right about now.
He digs out a stack of papers from his messenger bag. “I’m supposed to go through these.” I glance at the papers and see the Sterling Financial logo at the top.
“I’ll head out front, stand by reception. Why don’t you finish your paperwork, and when we’re done, we can take a loop together. I’ll show you around. We can discuss the best approach for us to divide and conquer. Sound good?”
“Works for me,” Thompson says.
I stand behind reception, tracking faces, wardrobes, conversations, and passing cars. I catalog each face—a nervous accountant tugging at his collar, the admin who checks her phone twice before entering the building, the guy in a blue tie who rushes in with sweat spots in his pits, and a sports jacket over an arm. Before I know it, ninety minutes have passed. If you pay attention to the details, the time flies.
When I’m about done with standing, I open the door to the security room to find Thompson sitting back, phone in hand. Looks like he’s playing one of those candy games on his phone.
“You ready?”
With a low sigh, he pushes up and places his phone in the pocket beside his pen and says, “Sure.”
This guy does not have a military background. I don’t even need to see his resume to be certain.
We go for a loop around the building first. I track the parked cars and scan for any occupants. There are none.
Thompson pulls out his phone on the far side of the building and taps away, responding to a text.
We approach the side door that’s locked and I point at it. “This is one of the exits that we need to wire. Surveillance on the inside. Movement detector.”
He nods, and I use the master key to unlock the door. It opens into the stairwell.
“You taking the stairs?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Wasn’t planning on flying.
“I’m gonna go get those papers. I’ll meet you on the fourth.”
“No need. That’s pretty much the lay of the land. I’ll meet you back in the security room.”
“Sounds good.”
The door closes and it occurs to me that Thompson is the clock-in-and-out type, which is good, because after hours I should have free rein to review security footage. It’s bad because he’ll probably always be around, and if I see a suspicious meeting, I’ll need to make a note to go back to the tape, or possibly text Quinn to check whatever it is out.
I take the stairs two at a time for the hell of it, exit on the executive floor, walk the corridors, then take the stairs down to the third floor. I’ll do a last sweep of the second floor before the lunch crew hits the space.
When I approach Daisy’s office, I slow in the doorway. She’s applying lip gloss, and I watch as she snaps open a little mirror and checks her work.
The morning light catches the gloss as she presses her lips together, and I find myself leaning against the door frame. She tilts her chin up, checking her reflection, and something low in my gut tightens.
Her straight, dark hair’s down today, and she tucks one side behind her ear. She stretches her neck, and it hits me. She’s checking for a hickey.
Her fingers trace along her collarbone, then higher, fingertips grazing the spot where I lost control last night. Heat crawls up my neck as I remember the sweet taste of her skin there.
Yeah, I spent quite a bit of time sucking and biting, but I didn’t do anything assholish like mark her up for the office. It’s hot as balls out there. It’s not exactly turtleneck weather.
I rap my knuckles against the door and she drops the gloss and mirror into a small black leather handbag.
“Hi. I was just getting ready for lunch.”
I check my watch. It’s early in the day.
“Are you ready?” The deep male voice crawls up the back of my neck and the sensation isn’t good. I turn to face the boss.
