Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
His presence seemed to hang over the entire building like a dark cloud—as if he was the dark lord looming over his kingdom, untouchable and unseen on a high tower shrouded by stormclouds.
And damn it. I had always thought tyrannical dark lord types were frustratingly hot.
It was fine, though. From the looks of things, I was hardly even going to see the man during my average work day. That was probably for the best. I got what I needed from him, and now I could just... toil away in this little janitor's closet while all the other employees hate me and Orion ignores me.
With a sigh, I got started.
Despite my cynicism, I actually found the work satisfying. My inbox was full of such a complete range of complaints and questions I was fairly sure they were phony emails crafted for training purposes. But I didn't care. I still pulled out the bible-sized reference book and set to work.
If somebody asked whether they would be discounted for a project that went beyond the expected completion date, there was a reference section for that. If they wanted an update on their project, there was an online reference page I could check with information that was refreshed daily. If they were angry at Mr. Foster, there was a simple, surprisingly humorous page suggesting I earn my salary and find a way to smooth things over myself.
It was fun because I felt like I was good at it. I liked the challenge of using the company-provided facts and details but the necessity to craft a diplomatic, friendly reply.
Things were going smoothly for a few hours until my stomach growled.
I hadn't brought food, and I didn't have the money to order delivery.
But Mr. Foster would have to see me leaving to take lunch to get upset with me, right?
I stood, turned, and then my stomach dropped. There was a camera that looked brand new, and it was mounted directly behind my desk within the little janitor's closet. I hadn’t even noticed it until that moment, and quickly hoped I hadn’t done anything too embarrassing when I thought I wasn’t being observed.
I slid my chair closer, stood precariously on my heels, and brought my face within inches of the camera. "Orion? Are you watching me with that thing?"
I glared at the lens, unsure what else to do until I heard a chime from my computer.
I nearly fell off the chair, but caught myself, sat, and scooted back to my desk to check. It was an email from Orion.
Ember,
Do not stand on your chair. You could get hurt.
Mr. Foster.
I looked at the screen for several seconds, then turned toward the camera. "What will you do if I put tape over your creepy little camera? What if I don't want to be recorded?"
There was another chime a few seconds later.
Ember,
There are cameras throughout the entire office. I added this one when your desk was put in. You are not special.
Mr. Foster.
I let my jaw hang in indignant annoyance. "And yet you're sitting in your office listening to my audio?"
I waited a long time, but no chime came. I stood, straightened my blouse, and looked up at the camera. "I'm going to go get lunch. Outside the building." I blew a kiss toward the camera just to be obnoxious and stormed out of the room.
My angry exit was less dramatic than I hoped because I got a little lost trying to find my way back to the elevators.
When I finally did, I stalked past desks where people sat and forked food into their mouths like they were being timed. A few of them gaped at me as I headed for the elevator. I heard more whispers and gossipy snippets of conversation but ignored them this time.
"I’m heading out for my lunch break. If anyone needs me, I’ll be back in an hour,” I said to nobody in particular.
The stunned expressions and slack jaws were almost worth the hell I was probably about to bring down upon myself with this little stunt.
13
ORION
Iwas supposed to be focused on Roman's presentation about the Davenport opportunity. Instead, my eyes kept drifting to the small window on my desktop where the security feed from Ember's workspace played.
She had returned from her extended lunch seventeen minutes ago. The moment she sat down, she looked directly into the camera, smiled, and proceeded to eat what appeared to be a massive burger dripping with sauce while maintaining unblinking eye contact with me. I knew she was doing it to get under my skin. What irritated me most was that it was working.
"...and as you can see from these projections," Roman was saying, gesturing to figures displayed on the conference room screen. "Even if we only got one of the three Davenport properties, it would double our quarterly profits for the next five years. Getting all three would—"