Page 32 of Quinlan

Shit. I celebrated way too early. They’re going to pull the offer, aren’t they?

My stomach plummets.

Deep breath. Stressing over the unknown is useless. Every second I’m wasting on fearing the worst is another second I’m wasting on not fixing it. Whateveritis.

Here goes.

From:[email protected]

To:[email protected]

Subject:Changes regarding your meeting at BLF Capital

Dear Quinlan,

I hope this email finds you well.

Our VPs have a couple of requests regarding your meeting next week.

No electronics are allowed in our offices. Any leak can be fatal to a company like ours. A notebook and pen will be supplied to you upon arrival.

The meeting hour has changed from ten in the morning to nine in the evening.

Please see attached the NDA contract attached to this email. I request that you sign this electronic copy and send it back to me by the end of the day.

Kind regards,

Jefferson Bell

Head of HR, BLF Capital

Relief washes through me for a short second before dread wins over. Secrecy is one thing. Leaving my phone and laptop at home? Why not deposit them at the front desk?

I shake my head. This paranoia thing is getting old.

I’ve been through two strange encounters. I haven’t had anything to eat since this morning. Freaking men. If I ever see either of them again, I’ll punch them for real for making me feel this way.

This rattled. This unbalanced.

Food. I have to get food inside me.

First, the NDA. The contract is a basic one. Looks like a lot of legal jargon, but I get it. I’ve had a couple of clients that sent one of those to me over the years. BLF Capital is reasonable.

Whatever my eyes see or hear is to be locked down inside my brain, never to leave.

Here, I’ve signed it and sent it back to him.

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