Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
My fingers still, my spine stiffens, and slowly, I look up. Todd has his feet propped up on his desk, his fingers digging through a bag of trail mix like a hungry little squirrel. He only wants the chocolate and the raisins.
“Paige? From excursions?” I ask, playing dumb.
He doesn’t even look up from the bag. “Yes, her and a few others.”
I clear my throat, trying to understand. The clown I get. He should have been shown the door about thirty years ago. But Paige?
I can’t resist asking why.
Todd waves it off like the question isn’t even worth his time. “Oh, I know she’s pretty enough, but we have plenty of pretty women at Siesta Playa, some far more willing to show a little skin, if you catch my meaning.”
I’m thrust into such a vivid daydream of wrapping my hands around his thick neck that I don’t even realize he’s waiting for a response.
“Guests like her,” I say like I have no real skin in the game, like I’m just pointing out facts.
“Guests like everyone.” He slides his feet off his desk and sits up, staring me down with conviction. “For now, this is just between you and me, got it? I can’t just go around firing people. We’ll have to be smooth about it. Cunning. Can you be cunning, Cole? Hah. Cunning Cole.” He points at me. “I’m counting on you.”
Right.
Counting me as an ally was Todd’s first mistake.
Threatening Paige?
Absolutely not.
I force myself to sit in my seat until he’s finished dismissing me. Then I stand and show myself out, trying my hardest to act as I normally would. If my departing words are a little strained or if my eyebrows are too furrowed, Todd isn’t astute enough to notice.
I feel like I’m walking through a haze of smoke down the hallway, blinking slow, still in shock as I make it into my office.
Paige can’t leave.
Paige . . . belongs here. With me.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
I set down my iPad on my desk and rake my hands through my hair. I want to settle this the easy way: hire a hit man to take Todd out on his way home from work. Simple. Easy. Life in jail would be hard, but I’d manage.
Instead, I pull up a fresh Excel spreadsheet. A little zing of excitement trickles down my body. I do love a fresh spreadsheet.
Before I do anything, I save it to a restricted, password-protected folder. It’s not that Todd would ever think to snoop around in my office, but I prefer to be as careful as possible, especially if I’m planning to go up against my boss.
It’s the only path forward and something I would have done soon even if he hadn’t threatened Paige. For a while now, I’ve suspected that Todd might not be one hundred percent squeaky clean. It’s a hunch, a wild one. There have been whispers around the hotel. Rumors about Todd’s worsening gambling addiction, the time he asked the accounting department if they could pay him in all cash instead of depositing his paycheck directly into his bank account like normal. I haven’t put much stock into any of it, but I’ve tucked each rumor away in my arsenal, just in case.
I’d love nothing more than to pick up my phone right now and call our CEO, Scott Durliat. Unfortunately, if I rat out Todd at this point, I fear I’ll wind up looking like nothing beyond an insubordinate tattletale. Everything I have on Todd is based on rumor, not fact. He’s done nothing wrong that I can prove, yet. Furthermore, given how obvious I’ve been about my intentions and ambitions with this company, Scott could take it the wrong way, as if I’m merely gunning for Todd’s job.
I know I need to act fast, but I don’t want to rush and ruin this opportunity to save Paige from the chopping block.
There are several ways I could investigate Todd’s dealings with the company, but most of them require access to accounts and files not at my disposal. I’m sure if I could gain access to Todd’s office and log on to his computer, all his wrongdoings would be right there, dumbly saved in his internet’s browser history. I know he’s not smart enough to wipe that stuff. He once asked me the difference between Cc and Bcc in an email.
I drum my finger on my desk, trying to come up with a brilliant plan that doesn’t involve any breaking and entering. It can’t be all that difficult to outsmart Todd. I just have to be savvy about it. I have to use the tools at my disposal.
I could plant a bug in his office (surely they sell those on Amazon), but what would I do with twelve hours of audio consisting of Todd cycling through a series of burps and farts and grunts? How would that possibly be helpful?