“How did you get my picture on it?”
“You had your license on you the night at The Shack.”
Of course. “What happens if I lose my badge?”
“Don’t.”
“Obviously, I’ll try to keep it safe. But what if—”
“The palm scan should be the first line of security, if you seek entry into the garage.”
“Should I leave my phone here, then?” I ask as Collins takes the ramp down into underground parking. He parks in a spot labeled with a star on the concrete, directly beside the set of elevators.
“Mr. Hoffman has made some concessions for where you are concerned, ma’am.”So much for treating everyone the same.“We will not be checking in at the lobby. All security guards in the CCTV room are made aware of my attendance upon the palm reading device. They get an alert about me.”
“Well, what about me?”
“Mr. Hoffman has briefed all of his employees in regard to you, ma’am. If you need to get to Mr. Hoffman in any of his buildings, there is a specific protocol and instructions on how to handle the situation. If I am unavailable to drive you, simply enter the front and show your badge. Ask anyone for assistance, and they will be more than happy to guide you to where you need to be.”
I have no idea why any of the employees need to be aware of my presence or even my existence. I get the whole security issue, but the way Collins describes it makes me feel like I am getting the royal treatment.
I sit up in my seat and gaze out the window at the adequately lit garage. Even this is beautifully structured with architectural detail. I find it expensively unnecessary.
“He has multiple buildings?”
I am very aware of the cost of property in the state of Oregon, even when just renting with a roommate to lessen the blow to the wallet. I can’t imagine the cost of actually owning an entire building. But having multiple ones? That’s ludicrous.
“Mr. Hoffman is a very wealthy man, Miss McFee.”
“Wow,” I breathe.
“As for today, I’ll be escorting you. I have special privileges once inside.” I expect a wink to form from his eye at his proud declaration, but it doesn’t occur. “Stay put, Miss McFee, and I’ll help you out.”
Oh.
He trusts me to skip some of the security measures he has in place? That doesn’t seem very smart for keeping things consistent in business. But what do I know? Bakery cashier entrepreneur enthusiast rocks the top of my resume credentials. Business mogul and CEO, I am not. Aspiring investigative journalist? I can only dream.
I unbuckle my belt and gather my school items, mentally kicking myself for not leaving them in my parked car at school. I swing the tote over my shoulder as the door opens. Collins offers a hand, which I graciously take. He pulls me to an upright position.
Once in the elevator, Collins inserts the plastic badge as a key card into the slot in the wall, punches a five-digit code that I secretly memorize, and waits for the car to start moving before pulling it back out. While we ascend, he straightens his navy tie that looks great against the light blue of his starched dress shirt.
“Has anyone ever snuck into the building or been caught as a spy?”
He snarls, as if remembering the event on a personal level.
“Wow. Holding a grudge, eh? Care to elaborate?” I hedge, shifting my tote to a comfortable position on my shoulder. I dig blindly for my cell to shut off the power. The last thing I need is to draw attention to my special favoring amongst his coworkers.
“Not at liberty to do so, ma’am.”
“You can really call me Angie. I won’t tell your big boss man.”
“I would rather not, ma’am.”
“You fear Mr. Hoffman? Because I am here today because I am going to tell him to back the hell off. And I may just outright punch him.” Collins straightens his posture and flexes his fingers in a nervous gesture at my statement. “So, I would stay on standby if I were you, just in case I need a ride in a hurry back to campus. Otherwise, I’ll be hailing a cab.”
“That will not be necessary, ma’am. I’ll take you wherever you want to go regardless of what happens between you and Mr. Hoffman.”
Protocol. “That’s very kind of you. But, I doubt you will be so nice after I rip your boss a new one for his actions over the past couple of days. I swear the man has a personality disorder. Oh, and I have a reputation for acting before thinking when it comes to violence.” I smirk at the memory of hitting the man at The Shack for getting fresh with me. Jerk.