I smile.
Badass.
Fuck it. One last question for the road.
“Did you guys ever make out?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Really?!”
“No,” he says.
I scoff, disappointed.
The elevator reaches the lobby. As I step off, my chest clenches. I realize that after five years of loyal service, this will be the last time I cross this lobby as an employee of Botsford Corp. My next paycheck will the last one I cash. The last holiday party was my last holiday party.
Man, this sucks.
Ira holds the entrance door open for me.
“Thanks, Ira,” I say as I walk outside. “Say bye to Roni and the kids for me.”
Rain pours loudly over the awning of the guest drop-off zone.
Oh. Right.
It’s monsoon season.
Shit.
Fuck.
I wave my arm by the curb, hoping to flag down a taxicab from the street.
“Hey, Paige.”
Ira follows me outside, casually scratching his scruffy chin as he performs a quick glance over each shoulder.
“We see a lot, you know,” he says.
I raise a brow. “We who?”
“Security.” He talks over the rain. “We see a lot. We hear a lot.”
I wait for more, but he just stands there looking ominous. “O-kay...”
Ira tilts his head. “We talk a lot, too.” He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and withdraws a piece of paper pinched between his fingers. “And Barry loves to talk. For a price,” he adds.
I take it from him. “Barry?” I ask, curiously reading the phone number on the slip. “Head of Security in Chicago? That Barry?”
Ira smirks as he slides backward toward the front doors.
“Ira,” I shout over the rain.
“You didn’t hear that from me,” he says.
“Thank you.”
