Page 53 of Handling the CEO

As we arrive in an unsavory part of town, the block of flats looks like it’s seen better days, and the street is lined with boarded businesses and homeless people squatting.

“Umm, are you sure she lives here?” I ask as I thought McAv paid quite well.

“That’s what we have in the personal details from her at work. Come on, let’s go in. She didn’t answer her phone, but maybe she’s home.”

“OK let’s try but I hope you still have rims on your car when we return,” hinting at some local boys currently eyeing his flashy SUV.

He is about to go talk to them when someone yells from above.

“Hey Jimmy! Tim! Stop scaring the tourists! That dude will give you $100 if his ride is still intact when he gets back!” A woman’s voice makes the lads shrug and Jon nods at them, confirming the future 'transaction'.

When I look up, I just see a flurry of blond hair.

“I guess you were right. She’s home,” I say.

“Yes, and she also wants to talk to us based on the parlay opportunity we just got,” my boyfriend concludes correctly.

After climbing the five stories, I am huffing a bit, but Jon—the fucker—is fit as a fiddle and volunteers some unwanted advice.

“Well, DJ, maybe you need to reconsider coming on that run with me next time.” He grins.

“Maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll just put jelly in your sneakers and set some ants on you.”

“Oh, Avril, touched a sore point, have I?”

“I’ll give you a sore point in a moment,” I pant. “Right after I catch my breath.”

“Are you two done? I don’t have all day to watch your nauseating banter.” Anya sits at her front door, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and yoga pants, but unlike the office she isn’t wearing her glasses and her hair is loose, curls everywhere. I think her eyes are a different color also, a bright aqua versus the black I remember. If I didn’t recognize the sarcasm in her tone, I wouldn’t even have known it was her!

“Anya?” My man is obviously in the same situation. “Umm, thanks for seeing us. May we come in?”

“You may, but I doubt you… can,” she answers and as we look into her apartment, we realize why she said that.

The flat is more precisely a single room, with a couch on one side and a desk with some boxes underneath on the other. There is a tiny kitchen in a corner and a door to what I assume is an equally minuscule bathroom in another. I can only presume all her clothes are under the bed, as there doesn’t seem to be anywhere else to put anything.

“You—live here? What the hell? I thought McAv gave you a good salary!” Jon is livid as a cockroach passes by in the hallway.

“You did. I just have bigger expenses than that, so this is it,” she gives no further information. “So, what do you want?”

“Well, last time we saw each other, we asked you for anything you have on Miranda. Now we realize we may have been misled by other people in my company, and I suspect you know who.”

“Hmph, so you finally figured out who the snake in your garden really was, I see. It’s always the nice old lady, right?” Anya confirms she knew exactly who it was, validating our assumptions. “Who do you think came up with the idea of the fax? It’s a bit before my time. I am surprised you guys put two and two together on that.”

“Give us some credit,” I intervene. "We aren’t total idiots. Just apparently, very trustful.”

“I suppose that is true,” she ponders. “So, you want dirt on Mrs. Jones today… what’s in it for me?”

“What’s in it for you? How about giving a bit back after I gave you a really good job and then you stole from me?”

She narrows her eyes at Jon’s tirade and looks down for a second before answering with contempt.

“Yeah, the job was good, and you were a decent boss. But you forget I didn’t steal for myself. It was your ‘friends’ who forced me to do it. I did try to help you where I could.”

“What? What is that supposed to mean?”

“My role was to mess up your calendar, to ‘forget’ to send you to meetings and all that. And of course, faxing important documents as you found out. But nobody made me pull the interview with Dahlia a day forward.”

“Shit, it was on a Tuesday, I remembered correctly!” he exclaims. “Why would you do that, and how did that help us?”

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