Page 38 of Whispered Sins

The name alone made my breath catch. I hadn’t been there since Addison strolled in and changed my entire life.

“Can we do a raincheck? I have somewhere to be.”

Brody looked disappointed. “Tomorrow night?” he suggested.

“Tomorrow it is.”

I watched Brody walk down the hallway to his office before I stopped at Margaret’s desk.

“May I help you, Mr. Jacobs?”

“I was hoping you could find the address for one of our associates.”

“Which one?” she asked, placing her pale pink-painted fingertips on the keyboard.

“Addison Heartly.”

A few clicks of the keyboard sounded.

“Ah, yes. The Leading to Learn office. I can write the address down for you.”

She reached for a post-it.

“Um, no. Actually, I was in need of her home address.”

Margaret looked at me curiously before looking back at her computer screen. She scrolled the screen and then back up.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have her personal information on file.”

“Well, can you find it?” I asked, drumming my fingers on the desktop.

“I could try…” she replied.

“Thank you. I’ll be in my office.”

I walked down the hallway and into my office. I sat in my chair and refreshed my inbox again. There was still nothing from Addison. I scrolled through all of my sent emails to her and suddenly felt embarrassed. There were thirteen total. All sitting and staring at me as reminders of how badly I had screwed this up.

I sighed and looked out the window. I felt desperate and out of control. Two feelings I despised.

A knock sounded at my door.

“Come in,” I said eagerly.

Margaret stepped inside holding a bright yellow post-it. I felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

“I have that address for you, Mr. Jacobs,” she said.

She held out the sticky piece of paper proudly. I took it from her and read the words silently. I guessed I was heading to Brooklyn.

“Thank you, Margaret. I’ll be heading out now. Please hold my calls.”

“Of course, sir,” she said before slipping out the door.

I grabbed my jacket, sliding it on over my shoulders before heading out the door. Downstairs at the curb, Armand waited. I wondered if he ever did anything else besides wait on me.

“Where to, Mr. Jacobs?” he asked as he opened the back door.

“Brooklyn,” I replied, sliding into the car.

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