Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
"It never ceases to amaze me how complete fucking morons manage to rise to positions of power," he said, shaking his head.
I had to agree. Working with them had shown me a never-ending parade of complete incompetent individuals with far too much influence. Then taking my job at Blairtown Chem, yeah, it only reinforced those impressions.
"I know. He once bleeped in over the intercom at me to scold me about the plants in his office. He said they were wilting."
To that, Lincoln's eyes danced. "The fucking plants are plastic, aren't they?"
"They sure are," I agreed, smiling because it was nice to share my exasperation with the man with someone else.
"So what went wrong? Aside from having an idiot for a boss?"
Oh, this was the tricky part.
The truth mixed with the lie once again.
"They're doing something."
"Doing something?" he repeated.
"I'm the assistant to the CEO. Everything passes over his desk. Which means most of it crosses my desk first. It's not my business, per se. What the files contain. But it is part of my job to figure out what everything is so that I can sort it by priority or give him bullet points. He has the attention span of a gnat most days. He doesn't actually read through any of the files really. So it became my job to do that for him."
"And you noticed something off."
"I noticed something was off." That, at least, was the truth.
"Off?"
"There has been a lot of testing going on recently. On chemicals."
"Because of all the people dying of cancer," Lincoln filled in.
"Exactly," I agreed, pleased a bit more than I should have been that he had heard about it, committed it to his memory, thought to bring it up in context.
"So, what is off about the testing?"
"I'm not sure," I told him. A partial lie. "Something isn't lining up. I can't put my finger on it exactly. Which is why I've been... trying to figure it out."
"Okay," he said, leaning forward, his cup clinking down on the coffee table as he turned fully to face me, elbows resting down on his thighs. "This is where it goes bad."
"Sort of, yeah."
"Sort of how? You said your boss was an idiot."
"He is. His CFO isn't."
"Alright. What has he done?"
"Nothing." The word squeaked out of me. A little too fast. A true false note in an otherwise pretty perfectly executed song.
"Gemma..."
"To be fair, he has always hated me. On my first day, he took issue with my shoes, my earrings, the way I styled my hair, the fact that I used almond milk in my coffee, the way I greeted him, the fact that my desk was messy..."
"Stick-up-his-ass sort."
"Exactly. And he spends a lot of time in my boss's office. So, he has had a long time to learn to dislike me even more. But the tipping point was when he caught me in Phillip's office. Going through his computer. I mean... it wasn't an incriminating thing in and of itself. I have been on his computer a few times in the past. But Phillip was out of the office for a long weekend. So, yeah, it didn't look good. And David just... suspected. Ever since then, I have noticed him watching me, checking in with Phillip a lot more."
"Alright." Lincoln's breath exhaled as he reached out, putting his hand over my knee. It was a typical Lincoln move. He was a touchy-feely person. He offered comfort physically. It meant nothing to him. Yet even knowing that, there was no denying the little zing that coursed from the contact and through my body. "Is that why you are hiding out here? Because your CFO is keeping an eye on you because he caught you snooping?"
There was a small snort that escaped me, making his head tilt. "Sorry. It's just... I worked here a long time. It takes a little more to spook me than some middle-aged numbers nerd keeping an eye on me." Pausing, I took a breath, trying to figure out a way to tell enough of the truth to make my fear make sense but not enough to make him tell me to quit or to call in the team. "I am pretty sure he isn't just watching me at work."
To that, all the sort of boyish charm you could so often find in Lincoln disappeared, leaving a seriousness you didn't expect to find there, a hardness that made you see the part of him that made military life possible.
"What do you mean you don't think he's just watching you at work?"
"Honestly, I don't know if I am overthinking this, being paranoid about a few separate little things because of what I am up to and the fact that I know it is suspicion-worthy. But it all just freaked me out. I live alone now. And I didn't want to bother anyone in case I am just being paranoid. So I decided to just... crash here. It eases my mind. Without inconveniencing anyone or making them worry unnecessarily."