Page 23 of The Broker

I’d done that job for a year after graduating from high school, and I despised it. I wasn’t any good at it, and the one day I’d filled in this week had been torture.

“No, your mom made a suggestion, and I think it’s a great idea. I was complaining about how messy the Warbler office has been getting recently, and she said you might like tidying it up.” He plastered on a smile. “We’d knock two hundred off your debt for each visit, and I was thinking twice a week.”

I held perfectly still, trying not to show my dismay. “You want me to be a... janitor?”

He laughed lightly. “I was thinking more like a cleaning lady, but if you want to call it that, that’s fine.” He gazed at me like this was a pretty sweet offer. “What do you say? I don’t need another receptionist. Irene does a great job, plus, I didn’t think you liked it all that much.”

No, I didn’t.

And I didn’thatecleaning either, but... shit. He’d posed it as a question, and there was only one answer I could give. I’d promised them I’d do whatever they wanted, even if that meant swallowing my pride.

“Okay.” I mustered a weak smile and attempted to sound pleased, even though I hated the idea. “What days do you want me to come in?”

The silver lining to having my new ‘job’ was I got access to my car again. I parked on the street outside of Warbler Entertainment, turned off the ignition, and glanced at the bucket full of cleaning supplies sitting in my passenger seat.

Just how I wanted to spend my Friday evening.

I pushed the thought away. I’d earned this humble sandwich, and I was going to eat it. So I grabbed the bucket’s handle, got out of the car, and made my way up the sidewalk toward the building.

It was a little after six p.m. and the sun was sinking in the sky, so it cast a warm glow on the historic house that had been converted into Warbler’s office. The main floor was the only part I’d need to deep clean, and as I stared up at the building, I was grateful. The second floor was the recording studio and green room, and my only responsibility up there was to dust and sweep the floors.

There wasn’t anybody at the front desk or in the main room. No one was working late except my father, which was to be expected. Most of the Warbler team barely came to the office, anyway. Their business was done at venues or over lunch or on the road.

I set my bucket on Irene’s desk, pulled on a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves, and surveyed the area, planning the most efficient strategy. There were two more desks in the room, each with a swivel chair behind it and a pair of comfy chairs situated in front of them. They were spots for employees to use when meeting with clients or doing some work in the office, and since they didn’t ‘belong’ to anyone, the surfaces were bare.

My mother had taught me to clean from the top down, and start with the left wall and work my way around the room. I’d dust, empty trash cans, and then vacuum, I decided. Even though the floors were carpeted, I realized I’d need a broom. I’d learned a handy trick of putting a microfiber cloth over the top of the broomstick and using that as a duster for places too high to reach.

The broom and the vacuum were in a utility closet off the kitchen, so I headed that way. When I came around the hallway corner and stepped onto the linoleum floor, I pulled to a stop. A surprised sound burst from my lips.

The kitchen was a mess.

I should have remembered from when I worked here that Fridays were always the worst. People were too busy gearing upfor the weekend to be considerate of others. A large collection of used coffee mugs and dirty plates from past lunches were stacked precariously beside the sink. The pot on the coffee maker was half full but looked like it hadn’t been used for days. Christ, there was no telling how old that coffee was.

But all of this wasn’t what had startled me.

It was because the kitchen wasn’t empty.

A man stood with his back to me, washing something in the sink. I was pretty sure I knew everyone on staff at Warbler, yet I’d never seen this guy before. My entrance surprised him too, and he turned to glance at me—

“What the fuck?” I blurted.

I had been so, so wrong. I’d seen this man before... because he was the one I’d gone home with last night.

The same shock I felt was reflected perfectly on Noah’s handsome face. He stood frozen, simply staring at me while water continued to flow from the faucet behind him. His question came low and crowded with confusion. “Charlotte?”

I was going to ask what the hell was he doing here, but heavy footsteps approached.

“Oh, you’re here,” my father said, although it was unclear who he was talking to.

The doorway to the kitchen was narrow, and he had me boxed in. It left me with no choice but to step forward and move closer, which I really didn’t want to do. The proximity to Noah felt... dangerous. Just seeing him again made me question if I’d made the right choice leaving him last night, even when I knew it’d been the right one. He kept his gaze fixed on me, even as he reached back to shut off the running water, but then his attention shifted to the man who strolled in to stand beside me.

My father didn’t sense an ounce of tension in the room. He gave Noah a once-over, and his tone was horrifyingly familiar. “Didn’t realize you were still here.”

“I just had a Zoom meeting with Michelle at SoFi,” Noah answered like he’d been accused of something. “It was the only time she had available in her schedule.”

My dad nodded, then cast a hand in my direction. “This is my daughter Charlotte.” He flashed his signature smile, the one that could diffuse almost any situation and turn strangers into instant friends. “Charlotte, this is Noah Robinson. He’s our new VP of booking.”

My dad wasn’t studying Noah the way I was, so he didn’t see the other man’s reaction to this information. He didn’t notice how Noah’s shoulders straightened, or that his Adam’s apple moved with a thick swallow.

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