Page 11 of Boss Me
“Perfect. Have a fantastic day.” I hung up quickly before she could make it my problem again.
My phone rang almost immediately, and I sighed when I saw it was the security desk. After a brief chat with José, I stepped into the elevator to escort the refinishers.
Where was Cooper?
After I let the furniture team into Cooper’s office and they got to work, I walked back to Marlee’s desk. She squinted at her screen, probably doing her morning code-check. How open could I be with her about my Cooper problem? We’d been friends since my first day, and we laughingly complained to each other about our bosses almost daily. But this was different. Stomach-sinkingly different.
Clearly, whatever was going on with Cooper was his secret since he hadn’t told me. And he was allowed to have secrets. At least in his personal life. His professional life was my business. He should have told Shauna he wasn’t going to show. And me.
I’d never known him to bail like that on an obligation. So whatever his secret was, it must have been a big one. One he didn’t want anyone to know about.
Although it wasn’t mine to share, I needed to know because it affected Synergy. Cooper was the heartbeat of the company, and if rumors reached the media, the stock would tank like Thor had smacked it with his hammer. And then the company would tank, too, just like at my last job.
I cleared my throat. “Hey, so I know I said I’d help you today, but Cooper assigned me to a special project.” I watched her face for any signs of recognition or disbelief.
She glanced at me quickly and shrugged. “No problem, then. Project away.”
“He, ah, he didn’t say anything to you or to Jackson about…the project?”
Her gaze was already back on the screen. “No. Need help?”
“No. Not right now, anyway. Thanks.” I trudged back to my desk.
I called Cooper again. Straight to voice mail.
I called the hotel in Boston. He hadn’t checked in.
I called Emily, the jet’s pilot. She didn’t answer, but I left a voice mail. Why hadn’t I insisted Cooper give me access to the jet’s flight tracking? I’d know if they’d left the airport.
Julie, Weston’s executive assistant, scurried past, clutching papers to her chest above her pregnant belly.
Maybe she knew what was going on. “Hey, Julie.”
She turned back, her mouth set in an impatient line. She and I weren’t as friendly as Marlee and I were, but we got along. Normally. Clearly, something was up today. “Yes, Ben?”
“Sorry to bother you. I was wondering if Mr. Weston had heard from Cooper today. I know he’s in Boston, but I have a question for him.”
“Isn’t he giving a keynote speech this morning? He’ll probably call you after.”
So she didn’t know anything, either. “That’s right.” I smiled. “Thanks.”
She nodded and continued her dash toward the CEO’s office.
I picked up my mobile phone and cradled it for a minute. My company phone had Synergy’s tracking app on it in case it was lost or stolen. As the COO, Cooper guarded the company’s secrets, and the devices that held those secrets, like treasure. Which they probably were, in the wrong hands.
I bit my lip. I wasn’t exactly tracking a lost device. I was tracking a lost person. An executive. It was an invasion of privacy. An unauthorized one.
But what if he was actually sick? Or injured? What if the jet had crashed? My heart raced. Someone would’ve called if the plane had crashed, wouldn’t they? Shit.
I opened the tracking app and clicked Cooper’s name. The wheel spun. At last, a message popped up. Unable to find device. See map for last known location. He must have turned off his phone.
My heart pounded as I squinted at the map. The landmarks resolved. San Francisco. What? He hadn’t left? I zoomed in on the icon that showed the last known location of Cooper’s phone. His house in Pacific Heights.
I stood so fast my chair went spinning off and hit the wall. Grabbing my satchel and my jacket, I sprinted toward the elevators. He hadn’t gotten on the plane. Was he sick? Like, actually sick, not the pretend thing I’d made up for the Entrepreneurs’ Society? Maybe Jackson had infected him with whatever baby virus Valentine had. I imagined Cooper lying in his bed, alone, burning up with fever. Or groaning on his bathroom floor, clutching the rim of the toilet.
“Gotta go, Marlee,” I said as I passed her desk. “Project emergency.”
“Good luck,” she called as I stepped into the elevator.
