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)
I had a footrest at one point. That’s gone. She came over and stood, looking down at it without saying a word. I eventually got the hint, picked up my feet so they hovered just above it, and like a little rat who’d been lusting after a piece of cheese, she swiped the ottoman away immediately. It’s now stacked on top of an end table, alongside a floor lamp and a few spare pillows. Her rudimentary blockade means that if I want to go to her side of the room and peek out the window, I’ll have to climb over the bed.
It also means that if she wants to access the bathroom, or the all-important thermostat, she’ll also have to humble herself and shimmy across that comforter onto my side.
She shivers and rubs her hands up and down her forearms, trying to warm up. “Bit chilly in here, no? Andbeforeyoureply,” she amends quickly, forming one long rambling word to get the sentiment out as fast as possible. “I was talking to myself.”
She looks over at me, and without even having to stand from my comfy chair—(Oh yes, did I mention the best seating in the suite is on my side of the bed?)—I reach up and press the down arrow on the thermostat, cranking it cooler by one more degree. I just can’t sleep well if it’s too warm, you know?
Paige’s teeth audibly chatter, and I almost feel bad, but then she whips the comforter off the bed and wraps herself up in it, sitting on the window ledge, looking out into the dark, menacing night.
I grab the TV remote, thinking I should at least check the weather to see if there are any updates.
“I guess he thinks he gets final say on what we watch,” she says, now referring to me as if I’m not even in the room.
“Do you want me to see if I can do a split screen on the TV? That way you can watch your show and I can watch mine?”
With a groan of annoyance born from deep within her soul, she pushes her phone out of the rolls of the comforter so she can unlock it. “Hey, Siri, can you tell Cole that I’m not talking to him right now?”
In her doltish robotic voice, Siri answers, “I’m sorry, I can’t help with that.”
Paige lowers her face right near the microphone and, in an angry, catty tone, says, “Okay, well, what good are you, anyway?”
Siri replies, nonplussed. Cheery, even. “I didn’t get that. Could you try again?”
“You know, it makes no sense for us to be in this room together and not talk about what you overheard the other day,” I chime in. “Notice how I said ‘what you heard’ and not ‘what you think you heard.’ You got it right. I told Todd that I was going to fire you, but I’m not going to.”
Paige looks up at me, and her expression is murderous. She’s thinking of subjecting me to medieval torture tactics. Disembowelment, perhaps? What’s the one with the horses? Oh yes, being drawn and quartered.
“Do you think I’m the absolute dumbest person on the planet? Like, there’s ol’ Paige, the most gullible idiot to ever pass through the lobby doors here at Siesta Playa. Here, take this commemorative plaque.”
“You’d understand the truth better if you actually let me finish saying it.”
“So say it. I’m all ears. I can’t wait to see how you spin this into something that you think makes sense.”
She wraps herself more tightly in her huge comforter and prods me to continue with an impatient glare. Never mind that she looks like she’s cosplaying as the Michelin Man. I’m meant to take her seriously, so I do.
“We agree Todd sucks.”
Her reply is icy. “That’s the verdict the world has come to, yes.”
“Great. Well, he’s also my direct superior, and if I want to keep my job here at Siesta Playa, I have to play the game.”
“You mean sell your soul to the devil.”
“No, I mean placate Todd long enough to figure out how the hell I’m going to get him out of here once and for all.”
Her expression hardens. “Impossible.”
“No, actually. It’s not. No one knows him better than I do. His comings and goings. His likes, dislikes. His vices.”
She’s intrigued, but she doesn’t want to admit it. “What’s that supposed to mean? What does any of this have to do with me?”
“He’s not squeaky clean, and I know how to prove it.”
“Oh, okay.” Her eyes roll back in her head like she’s heard this snake oil pitch one too many times. “You’re a detective now too. Cool.”
“I’m not a detective. I’m an auditor by nature. By blood, actually. It’s what I do. I look at official financial accounts and I search for discrepancies. It’s like a hobby.”
“Okay, so you’re a truffle-hunting pig, only you wear a suit and enjoy calculators. Still, I don’t understand how—after working here for five years—you only now figured out that Todd is up to no good. Are you not a very good pig, or what? I mean, what are the odds that you figured it out at this precise moment? Why now?”