Page 53 of Song of Lorelei

“Oh, it’s so much worse,” Lila seethed, balling her fists. No fake anger there. “She’s your replacement.”

It was all Lorelei could do to keep herself from punching the nearest wall. Not that there was much of an audience to create a spectacle in front of. Save for her friends and this silly security escort, the hallways were empty. The offices, too, for that matter. “Of course, she is. Does she know now that I’m a…?”

“No. Phil hasn’t spread that around yet, at least, not beyond his attempt to get Jackie to write a smear piece on you. And Carrie doesn’t remember.”

So not everything was going to hell in a hand basket.

They passed yet another empty office.

Odd.

“Where the hell is everyone? Was there some kind of professional development training today that I forgot about?”

“No, they cleared out this part of the building earlier this morning and put it on semi-lockdown. Carrie’s not supposed to be here, but she doesn’t listen to anybody for shit, and Will’s my personal muscle and emotional support, which is the official reason why he’s here. Breaking up with your super powered work wife is some serious business.”

Lorelei stopped abruptly and the security guard directly behind her nearly bowled her over.

“Keep moving!” he barked, louder and more forceful than necessary.

Rather than give him a piece of her mind, she bit her tongue and continued walking. Wasn’t like he’d hear her anyway. “Is this because of me?”

“Yup.”

That put a new spin on the phrase “armed to the teeth.” She was lethal by default—teeth, claws, and potent siren song. But if Phil really saw her as a potential threat, why didn’t he just have someone mail her belongings home? Less fuss, and she could’ve stayed home in her pajamas and demolished her stash of chocolate. It really would have saved everyone so much trouble.

Wait. No. Wait…

They wouldn’t just lure her here and—shit. Will did say Lila insisted they both be here in case things got sketchy. Sketchy like upper management forcing her to become Nireed’s replacement in the mermaid aquarium. That caliber of fuckery was only supposed to happen in movies.

As they approached her old office, Lorelei thrust her hands inside her trouser pockets to hide their trembling. The guards waited outside as she entered with Lila and Will.

While Carrie’s smug smile wasn’t a healthy distraction from the thought that her previous employer had possibly plotted to kidnap her, it was a distraction. She centered her energy on ignoring the woman as she made a b-line for her desk.

Plopping the cardboard box next to her computer, Lorelei opened the top drawer and began unceremoniously dumping her belongings inside. Nothing within was so fragile or precious that it couldn’t take the rough treatment. The sooner she got out of this hellscape, the better. The only things worth being gentle with were the picture frames of her and Killian, but those she’d lay on top.

“Must have been nice while it lasted, having a title you weren’t qualified for. But every dog gets his day.”

Lorelei looked up to find Carrie “casually” inspecting her nails.

Any charitable thought she’d ever thought about the woman vanished in a puff of smoke, recent events whittling her patience and restraint down to toothpicks. Every dog gets his day—that snooty, insufferable bitch!

“I don’t know, Carrie.” She spat her name as if it were a curse word. “I did a damn good job for being short-staffed. And I wouldn’t be slinging dirt if I were you. You’re the poster child for nepotism.”

“Oo, burn!” Will called, but Lila cut him off with a sharp glance, shaking her head. Translation: don’t get in the middle of this.

Carrie stuck up her nose. “At least I was qualified for my job.”

Every nerve in her body bristled. She could bite that woman’s face off.

“Seriously, Lorelei, you should see this as a blessing in disguise. You were in way over your head. It’s a real wonder the board hired you. ‘Underqualified’ was putting it lightly. I mean, come on. You had a semi-relevant internship at a museum. Once.”

Lorelei clenched her fists so hard she cut crescent moons into her palms. If this were a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of her ears. Her whole body twitched as she struggled to think of a proper comeback. “Yeah, well,” she began, her thoughts frantic and frazzled. “You taste like SPAM!”

Carrie blinked. “What?”

A beat passed. Then two of dead, awkward silence. Only the low din of the building’s central cooling system punctured the quiet.

Will’s face contorted into comedic bliss as he busted out into laughter, the kind that makes your eyes water and your stomach hurt. He bent over his knees, wheezing. Lila looked between all three of them with a horrified expression.

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