Page 12 of Obsession

More silence.

Then a soft click as the locks disengaged.

I swung the door open and knuckled under my eyes. Makeup was smeared on my skin. Of course, my waterproof mascara didn’t hold up against the tsunami outside.

Why would it?

A statuesque brunette stood at the desk. Not George. The smoky and clipped voice from the vestibule fit her. And the cocked hip definitely matched the attitude.

I straightened my shoulders. “Hi.”

“Ms. Copeland, Jack will be down for you shortly.”

Yep. The smooth, succinct voice was definitely hers. And she owned her R’s, as well. I couldn’t decide if she was a transplant or had just educated them into her vocabulary. “Thank you. Was Mr. Carson advised?”

“Mr. Hollister will make sure that you still have a job. Don’t worry.”

I pressed my lips together. I’d already started on the wrong foot with this woman. Silence seemed to be the better part of valor at this point.

“And look at that? Youdoknow how to keep quiet.” Her blue eyes danced, and a smirk slid across her wide, wine-colored mouth.

“I’m assuming you’re the one who’s going to chip me and take my picture.” I shrugged. “Helps if you don’t hate me.”

Her smirk bloomed into a full-blown smile. “I like you, Blondie. Even if you did threaten my tonsils. I could fit you in my pocket. So, I think I’m safe.”

My lips twitched. “I’m a ninja.”

The husky laugh that filled the wide lobby made my eyebrows shoot up. “For that one, I’ll even make sure you look good in your badge picture.” She nodded to me. “Stand over there on the fourth tile from the desk.”

I took a few steps and spun to face her.

She tapped on tiny camera on the top of her monitor. “Say ‘rain sucks’.”

The smile popped out before I could stop it.

“See? Didn’t even have to say it.” She pushed the iPad at me. “Fill out your pertinent info, and I’ll order your badge. It’ll be ready when you finish your day. Just stop over and pick it up on your way out.”

“Thanks.” I went to the U-shaped set of chairs stationed around a coffee table. Instead of magazines, there were slots for four full-sized iPads charging in a large hub. There was also a place to plug in cell phones.

I filled in my name and social security number but paused on my address information. I couldn’t exactly put my grandmother’s house there. At least not until I got it back. “Philomena, forgive me,” I muttered. Most of my life had been spent in the Lady’s Bay Gallery, so I used the building spacebehind it as an address. The owner, Philomena Stanwick, was my first patron and my first boss.

Saving her gallery should count for at least a tiny white lie.

The rest of the details were fairly easy to fill out. My twenty-five years on the planet had netted me a pathetic work history. The gallery had been my internship and my main job until my glass had started turning a profit.

I went back to the desk and set the iPad on the ledge.

“That was quick.” She took the tablet.

“My résumé is small but mighty.”

“Well, nice to meet you.” She glanced down at the iPad, tapped around before looking satisfied, and put it down. “I’m Violet Donnelly, head of security.” She looked over my shoulder. “And there’s Mr. Hollister.”

I turned around. Jack was in a gray suit today, and his tie was still on, though it was already loosened at his neck. “Morning, Mr. Hollister.”

“Ah, c’mon now, Grace. We went through this. Jack.”

“Jack.”

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