I couldn’t wait for it all to be over so that I could get back here afterwards.
Maxim
Seated in the cafe window, I adjusted the angle of the screen of my laptop so that I could watch Elizabeth walk up to the door of the agency’s office without making it look like I was watching her at all.
I’d have liked to put an earpiece on her, so she could hear what I was saying to her, but I didn’t have the technology to make that go unseen. My earbuds hooked up to my cell phone, using them to listen through and to anyone else who might have bothered to look, I was listening to music, or maybe even on a call.
Elizabeth couldn’t walk in and ask to talk to Sandra without taking headphones out. Only utter twats refused to take their bluetooth hands free headsets off inside, and neither of us had thought we’d get away with it. But I could hear every word she said even if I couldn’t talk back to her.
“Here goes nothing,” she murmured under her breath and I heard the buzz of her pressing the entry phone as I saw her finger connect with it.
I wanted to tell her to drop her shoulders so she stopped looking so bloody suspicious. But it was all out of my hands now. Maybe it made sense that she was nervous.
I could hear the static buzz of the door unlocking, and I knew we were moments away from her introduction sending a shockwave through the building. There was nothing I could do from here to influence the way it went. The only thing I could do was trust her to get it right.
I heard her climb the stairs, her shoes echoing on each hard step and I wondered whether the interior was shabby chic or if it had all been gutted and turned into a white, shiny, minimalist enclave. It didn’t matter in the slightest.
“Elizabeth Harrington, here to see Sandra Charlton please.”
“Oh- Uh. One moment please.”
Whoever it was manning reception didn’t sound all that calm about it. The shock was evident in her voice. I could well imagine why.
Elizabeth had been with me ever since Sutherland disappeared from his home, no thanks to the pair of us, over a week ago. The media had assumed she’d been tangled up with the same misadventure. Seeing her walk right in as though nothing at all had happened must have been as close as most people got to seeing a ghost.
I could imagine the smirk on Elizabeth’s face even from out here.
I opened up a plan of the schematics of the building that Valentin had procured for me when we’d thought the only option was going to be a midnight raid. Partly to make sure I looked busy and partly to make sure I knew exactly where she was.
At that moment she was standing in a small area where the architect had envisioned a reception desk opposite a small grouping of chairs and a few pot plants. Sandra’s office was one level up and behind reception was another room where less well respected clients were seen, most likely in among the filing cabinets and the coffee making facilities.
I heard the receptionist relay the message to Sandra, and realised it was probably the PA I’d been talking to, trying to get something useful out of at the publicity event. She’d made herself sound a little more important than the girl who manned the front desk.
“Ok. Ms Charlton says you’re to go up. Hers is the door at the front.”
“Thank you so much.”
Elizabeth
I’d been here a few times, early on, before Mum died and I remembered Sandra’s PA being snotty to both of us, so it was quite rewarding to see that shocked look on her face and have her do a bit of grovelling to me for a change. Maybe it was petty, but it felt so good knowing that she’d tried to get her claws into Maxim and failed, because the only woman he wanted was me.
“See you later Violet.”
Careful on the stairs in the heels that Maxim had suggested I wear, I clip-clipped my way to the floor above and knocked on the panel door, waiting for Sandra to invite me in. Only because today I needed to be on her good side.
“Enter.”
She had the vibe of a creative pitbull. Brightly coloured Murano glass beads and red lipstick. A severely tailored tunic that reminded me of the mid-century modern aesthetic that was so trendy everywhere these days. Mustard yellow wasn’t a colour I could have said suited her.
“Goodness Elizabeth, everybody thought you were dead. You do know what happened, don’t you? Where the bloody hell is Pierce?”
“I just found out,” I told her, pulling on a little wrinkle of my eyebrows and letting my voice drift a little more soft and vacant. “I got back from youth hosteling in Wales this morning.”