Page 72 of Coach
I wasn’t sure I could take learning any more ugly things about my bosses and continue working for them.
“Hurry up,” a female voice barked, making my spine stiffen.
“It’s gonna be a minute,” a man answered.
I initially took a small bit of comfort in the knowledge that it wasn’t Konstantin or Mikhail’s voice—until I remembered that no one else was supposed to be inside the building. That it was locked. That I wasinside it.
Sure, my bosses were scary.
But I would venture a guess that a strange man who caught me hearing him breaking into a building he wasn’t supposed to be in was arguably worse.
“I have to get the ladder,” he added.
I shrank back away from the door as his voice came closer. There was no time to slide it closed, so I just had to pray that no one saw it slightly ajar and came to investigate.
“You should have brought one,” the female voice said again, making me freeze in my attempt to hide behind a pallet of drinks.
Because I knew that voice.
It was the one that condescended to me about everything from the shine on the floor to how hard the doors closed. All the while looking down her nose at me like I was beneath her.
Fine, I was. In rank. But not as a human being. I hated people who treated others as less than just because of their jobs.
“Right. Because that wouldn’t have looked suspicious,” the man said, making a beeline to the closet where the ladder was kept.
That was… suspicious, right?
How did he know right where to look? I hadn’t heard Irina tell him. But maybe she just gestured.
“A small one,” Irina insisted.
“Yeah. Because they make ones small enough to fit in your pocket.”
“Shut up,” Irina snapped, the tip of her heel tapping the ground. I could just picture her standing there in one of her skintight dresses, her arms crossed, her long red nails tapping on her arm in her impatience.
“You’re the one who said it,” the man said as the ladder knocked into something in the closet. “Who the fuck put this in here like this?”
“Your replacement,” Irina said, making my brows shoot up. “Why did you put it up in the vent anyway?”
“Because those fucking idiots came back early, and I had it in my backpack. What if they got suspicious? I had to hide it.”
“Yes. Hide it. Under a cabinet. In a closet. In the damn walk-in,” Irina said. “Not in a vent.”
“You know they sweep the place. It wasn’t worth the risk.”
Oh, God.
Okay.
Well, that explained one thing.
Why the hell there was cash in a vent.
“Yeah, well, some heads-up would have been good. It was pure luck that idiot cleaner girl didn’t see it.”
It was not the time to get my hackles up, but that didn’t stop my eyes from narrowing as I stared at the door.
Well, I did see it, Irina.
