Page 35 of Imogen

“Oh shit! You don’t have it, do you?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Who has it then?” he asks, as he pushes the call button to the lift with his free hand.

“Oh, Zach definitely has it,” I disclose. “My cousin even threatened him, which worries me more.”

“You don’t want her to hurt him?” he asks as we step into the lift.

“No, I’m not worried about that. She doesn’t say something she doesn’t mean. What worries me is that he didn’t do what she told him to do. He’s either forgotten who she is or he doesn’t believe her. She messaged me this morning so she knows he didn’t bring it back.”

“Christ, what are you going to do?”

“Tell the truth and hope they take mercy on me,” I reveal.

He bumps his shoulder with mine. “It will be fine. We can be unemployed together.”

“Why are you going to be unemployed?”

“Uh, I’m the one who let him onto the floor.”

When the door dings and begins to slide open, I know I don’t have much time. “George, I’m not going to mention you. I will tell them no one was on reception.”

“Laura saw him and me.”

“You could have been in the bathroom,” I point out as we reach our floor. The door opens and we step out into the overall reception area. “I won’t bring you up, even if they ask who let him onto the floor. You are not losing your job over someone else’s mistake.”

“I feel bad. I got hives over the weekend because I know if I never led him to your office, he wouldn’t have had the chance to take it.”

“And I could have told him to leave. None of us knew what he was going to do. I didn’t believe he could do something like this.”

He wraps his free arm around my shoulder. “You are too good of a person, Imogen Smith.”

“Shush, people will hear you.”

“Imogen, I want to see you in my office,” Larry orders. “Now.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. “Yes, sir.”

I hand my coffee cup to George. “Good luck,” he whispers.

Straightening my blazer, I begin to make my way to Larry’s office. Colleagues stop what they’re doing to stare at my approach.

I gulp.

They know.

They all know.

I tap my knuckles on the frame of the door. Larry looks up briefly, his attention on the papers in front of him. “Take a seat, Miss Smith.”

I do, but my nerves are so rattled, I almost stumble into the chair. My vision begins to blur, my pulse racing when he doesn’t speak. I shift in my seat, wondering if this is the reaction he was hoping for.

When he meets my gaze, void of any emotion, I know it’s going to be bad. “Do you know why I’ve called you in here this morning?”

I gulp, rubbing the palms of my hands down my thighs.God, it’s hot in here.

“I might have a clue.”

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