Beautiful Stranger
Page 84
I ran a hand through my hair, reminding myself that reaching out and strangling her would not help the situation. “An Hermès messenger bag. Gray and tan.”
“Can you identify all the valuables inside?”
I swallowed down the taste of bile. “My files. My laptop. My phone. Fuck. Everything.”
I considered all the client information I’d just lost, all the passwords that would have to be changed immediately. How much time this was all going to take and how many problems this could cause. And I didn’t even have my f**king phone to call Will.
She slid a form and a ballpoint pen attached to a chain across the desk. “You look like you need a minute. Just fill this out and check the appropriate boxes.”
I picked up the pen and filled in my name and address, checking the spaces for laptop, mobile phone, and personal items. I looked at the time and wondered if there was a box for sanity, because I was pretty sure I was close to losing that, too. I’d just about finished when I came across a choice that made me feel like I might throw up my spleen.
Camera. I hadn’t brought my camera with me, but I had packed my SD card, intent on wiping it clean as soon as I had the opportunity.
There just really weren’t enough f**ks in the world for this one.
I looked down at the shitty counter, at the way the laminate was pulling away from the metal edge. There was a crack running along the surface and it seemed like the most ironic metaphor ever.
“My SD card,” I said to nobody in particular.
“For a camera?” Elana June asked.
I swallowed. Twice. “Yeah. The card, with all the images.” I swore and pushed away from the counter, remembering what Sara had let me do last night, how she had trusted me.
Fuck f**k f**k.
An older woman with dark hair pulled back into a bun stepped up to the desk. “Mr. Stella?” she asked.
I took a moment from my breakdown to nod and she continued.
“We looked at the footage. Looks like there were two of them. One distracted you while his partner took the bag. He was down the escalator and almost out of the terminal before you even realized it was missing.”
I wondered if it was possible for the floor to open up and swallow me. I kind of hoped it was.
Having done everything I could at the airport, I took a car to the hotel. With no time to replace my phone before the meeting, I called directory assistance and had them ring the office. Will wasn’t there, but his assistant assured me she’d change my account passwords herself and explain everything to Will as soon as possible. After promising her a dozen roses and a raise from her boss, I hung up and sat on the bed, glaring at the phone as I tried to decide what I would tell Sara.
Realizing there was no easy way to do this, I dialed directory assistance again and had them ring Sara’s office.
George answered and I closed my eyes. I liked the guy well enough, but I was in no mood to deal with him today.
“Sara Dillon’s office,” he said.
“Miss Dillon, please.”
He paused just long enough for it to become awkward before saying, “And good afternoon to you too, Mr. Stella. One moment, please.”
I heard the click as I was connected and waited for her to pick up.
Three rings later, she answered. “This is Sara Dillon,” she said, and I felt warmth coat the inside of my chest.
“Hey.”
“Max? I didn’t recognize the number.”
“Yeah. I’m calling from my hotel. You all right? Sound a little stressed.”
“I could do without the giant stack of pricing research on my desk today. I should have come into work before lunch, but I can’t say I regret my lazy morning.”
She paused and I closed my eyes, remembering her face when she came for the last time.
“How was your flight?”
“Good. Long,” I said, standing and walking as far as the phone cord would allow. I looked out the window, down to where people scurried about on the sidewalks below, completely lost in their own little worlds. “I miss you.”
I heard her stand and a door close before she sat again. “Me, too.”
“Did you get any sleep after I left?”
“A little.” She laughed. “Someone wore me out.”
“Lucky bastard, that one.”
She hummed and I tried to picture what she was doing, what she was wearing. I decided she was wearing a skirt, nothing under, and had on her black knee-high boots.
Bad move, Max. You’re across the country and ready to go now.
“You’re gone for the week?” she asked.
“Can you identify all the valuables inside?”
I swallowed down the taste of bile. “My files. My laptop. My phone. Fuck. Everything.”
I considered all the client information I’d just lost, all the passwords that would have to be changed immediately. How much time this was all going to take and how many problems this could cause. And I didn’t even have my f**king phone to call Will.
She slid a form and a ballpoint pen attached to a chain across the desk. “You look like you need a minute. Just fill this out and check the appropriate boxes.”
I picked up the pen and filled in my name and address, checking the spaces for laptop, mobile phone, and personal items. I looked at the time and wondered if there was a box for sanity, because I was pretty sure I was close to losing that, too. I’d just about finished when I came across a choice that made me feel like I might throw up my spleen.
Camera. I hadn’t brought my camera with me, but I had packed my SD card, intent on wiping it clean as soon as I had the opportunity.
There just really weren’t enough f**ks in the world for this one.
I looked down at the shitty counter, at the way the laminate was pulling away from the metal edge. There was a crack running along the surface and it seemed like the most ironic metaphor ever.
“My SD card,” I said to nobody in particular.
“For a camera?” Elana June asked.
I swallowed. Twice. “Yeah. The card, with all the images.” I swore and pushed away from the counter, remembering what Sara had let me do last night, how she had trusted me.
Fuck f**k f**k.
An older woman with dark hair pulled back into a bun stepped up to the desk. “Mr. Stella?” she asked.
I took a moment from my breakdown to nod and she continued.
“We looked at the footage. Looks like there were two of them. One distracted you while his partner took the bag. He was down the escalator and almost out of the terminal before you even realized it was missing.”
I wondered if it was possible for the floor to open up and swallow me. I kind of hoped it was.
Having done everything I could at the airport, I took a car to the hotel. With no time to replace my phone before the meeting, I called directory assistance and had them ring the office. Will wasn’t there, but his assistant assured me she’d change my account passwords herself and explain everything to Will as soon as possible. After promising her a dozen roses and a raise from her boss, I hung up and sat on the bed, glaring at the phone as I tried to decide what I would tell Sara.
Realizing there was no easy way to do this, I dialed directory assistance again and had them ring Sara’s office.
George answered and I closed my eyes. I liked the guy well enough, but I was in no mood to deal with him today.
“Sara Dillon’s office,” he said.
“Miss Dillon, please.”
He paused just long enough for it to become awkward before saying, “And good afternoon to you too, Mr. Stella. One moment, please.”
I heard the click as I was connected and waited for her to pick up.
Three rings later, she answered. “This is Sara Dillon,” she said, and I felt warmth coat the inside of my chest.
“Hey.”
“Max? I didn’t recognize the number.”
“Yeah. I’m calling from my hotel. You all right? Sound a little stressed.”
“I could do without the giant stack of pricing research on my desk today. I should have come into work before lunch, but I can’t say I regret my lazy morning.”
She paused and I closed my eyes, remembering her face when she came for the last time.
“How was your flight?”
“Good. Long,” I said, standing and walking as far as the phone cord would allow. I looked out the window, down to where people scurried about on the sidewalks below, completely lost in their own little worlds. “I miss you.”
I heard her stand and a door close before she sat again. “Me, too.”
“Did you get any sleep after I left?”
“A little.” She laughed. “Someone wore me out.”
“Lucky bastard, that one.”
She hummed and I tried to picture what she was doing, what she was wearing. I decided she was wearing a skirt, nothing under, and had on her black knee-high boots.
Bad move, Max. You’re across the country and ready to go now.
“You’re gone for the week?” she asked.
