Page 9 of Married to Lies

“Oh, right...” He turned his head toward the hallway. “CONRAD! Meeting.”

My ears rang from his outburst. “Seriously?”

Conrad came into the small lobby area looking exceptionally annoyed. “Don’t come back tomorrow,” he told the temp.

The poor guy nodded, but stayed put at his desk.

“Go!” Conrad and I said at the same time.

Once the kid was out the door, I muttered, “Sheesh.”

“You’re telling me,” Conrad said. “At least Renee didn’t shout down the hallway at me like a dog.” He gave a wistful look at the desk, then waved his hand over his shoulder for me to follow him back to his office.

As soon as the door was shut, he spun on me. “What did you find?” There was a half-desperate, half-eager look on his face. I would have backed up at his manic energy if the door wasn’t right behind me.

“I didn’t find anything,” I told him, hoping it would get him to chill. “In fact, I would say Quentin’s one of the more trustworthy people in the office.” I’d overheard a tense, whispered conversation between Jude and Bryce’s assistant, Maya, one day while cleaning. It looked like Maya had been reprimanding Jude.

Bryce seemed nice, and I liked how he treated Jada so far. My only hesitation was that I thought their relationship was moving awfully fast. Not so long ago, he was trying to get her to date him, and now they were engaged to be married in a week and had a baby on the way.

Aaric, the COO, was so nice he’d probably get roped into something bad without even knowing. And Cruz, their head of marketing, was never around enough for me to gather much intel.

Quentin on the other hand... he had this air of confidence about him, but not in a cocky or condescending way. The employees who worked under him seemed to truly respect him, not just comply for the sake of a job.

Conrad seemed unconvinced. “You heard nothing?”

“Nothing,” I confirmed. “I asked around the café, I listened in as I was cleaning the office, and no one has mentioned Prodian or anything untoward related to Quentin. Can we be done with this now?”

Conrad seemed to sag, walked to his desk, fell into his chair, and slammed his hand down on the desk.

I jumped, stumbling backward. “What the hell?”

His expression smoothed over. “Sorry, I just hate fraud.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I hate fraud too, but I’m not banging around the office. I really didn’t like that.” My heart was still beating fast, and my muscles felt primed to run, for like the third time in my life outside of gym class and one dream I had where I was an Olympic marathoner.

Conrad had the good sense to look embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbled again. “My gut’s just telling me something’s off about this guy. He set a meeting to hand-deliver our check next month. That’s weird for a CFO, isn’t it? Shouldn’t he have his assistant deliver it?”

Even though I hadn’t said anything, Conrad read my expression.

“You agree with me!” he said. “Your face has subtitles, you know.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Of course it does. I’m not a poker player or a spy.”

“But you do work undercover,” he countered. “You lie to people every day about who you are.”

I folded my arms over my chest at the dull ache presenting there. “It’s easier for everyone that way. Can we just let this ‘investigation’ go? I like working at MyHome. The owners seem like good people. Most of them, at least.”

Conrad’s brows shot up. “Most of them?”

If I had the flexibility to kick myself, I might have. “One of the higher-ups, not Quentin, just seems like an asshole.” I gave him a pointed look. “You know the type.”

He responded with an unimpressed look, then said, “MyHome has been all over the news in the last couple weeks. Their founding investor is dying, his kids have gotta be scrambling for all that money, there was an attack at their gala that’s being linked to a dangerous cult. Something is going on there, and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

The uneasy feeling weighed even heavier on my stomach as I shifted from one foot to the other. “Then report it to the police, Conrad. Let them investigate.”

“Call them and tell them what, exactly? That I have a funny feeling?” He gave me a condescending look.

My arms spread wide in disbelief. “That’s what you’re telling me!”