“I’m sorry, I—” The smile on my face has to be the most awkward expression ever to have graced the planet.
“It’s me, Eddie.” He gives his own chest a good-natured pat. “Eddie Morrison.”
My brain finally computes the years since high school and Eddie’s face, and it clicks into place. “Oh, Eddie. Jesus. I didn’t recognize you!” Eddie Morrison is the younger brother of Jessica, a girl I went to high school with. “How’s Jess doing these days? I haven’t heard from her in…” I can’t remember the last time I heard from her, aside from keeping up with her on social media. I’m drawing a complete blank on her last post, her last picture…
“She’s in London.” Eddie nods. “Into fashion. I don’t get it, but—”
“That’s right.” Jessica was always obsessed with the big cities on the coast, the annual fashion weeks, the designers. It makes perfect sense that she went into the fashion industry, and perfect sense that she doesn’t have time to post every detail of her life on social media. I run a hand over my hair, smoothing out a few flyaway strands that must have escaped on the drive. “Hey, Eddie, I’m here for a meeting with Mr. Calley. The woman from the front office told me I should check in with you for a temporary gate card.”
“Got it right here.” Eddie lifts up a yellow plastic card on a lanyard and hands it over to me with a grin. “Now, all I need from you is a signature.”
He passes a clipboard with a sign-in list on it through the window, and I write my name down along with the date and time. “Do I need to sign this every time I visit?”
“Just this once.” He takes the clipboard back and puts it on the desk. “Nice to see you, Sam.”
“I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other a lot over the next week.” Great. That doesn’t sound like I’m hitting on him or anything. “I didn’t mean—”
He shakes his head. “I know what you meant. You have to get to your meeting—I’ll raise the gate this time to let you through.”
Back in the safety of my car, I feel free to roll my eyes at myself. It’s like being in Lockton has stripped away all my usual professionalism.
Once I’ve pulled in and parked in the parking lot, I pull out a little bag of makeup from my purse for a quick touch-up of my face. I take in a deep breath, smile in the rearview mirror to make sure I don't have any lipstick on my teeth, and then grab my purse and scoot out of the driver's seat. I shut the door behind me and take a moment to smooth my black slacks and straighten the sapphire blue top that brings out the brilliance in my eyes to make them look damn amazing. A quick glance at my watch lets me know I have ten minutes to spare before the start of my meeting.
I spend five of them checking my phone, hastily answering a few emails, and then it’s time to go in and meet Mr. Calley.
Inside the main building, there’s a lobby area with six seats and what looks like a wide new desk, behind which sits a middle-aged woman with dark curly hair. Her face lights up when she sees me come in. They must not get many visitors, or else she really likes being the public face of Cerberus Cement.
“Well, hi there.” Her voice is bubbly but strong. “You must be Samantha Kennedy, with Ryder & Bloom.”
“That’s me.” I can’t help returning her smile, but she doesn’t stop there. Before I’m even at the desk, she’s bustling out from behind it and extending her hand to shake mine. I do. “And you must be—”
“Brenda.”
“Yes, Brenda. We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, we did!” She hustles back around to the other side of the desk and picks up the phone. “I’m going to let him know you’re here.”
She waits for a moment, then says, “Mr. Calley, Samantha Kennedy is here for you.” There’s a pause. “Absolutely. Absolutely.” Then she hangs up the phone.
“He’s going to be just a minute. Can I offer you anything to drink? We have water, Diet Coke, lemonade…”
Normally I would refuse, but my mouth has been dry since I crossed the city limits, and I don’t think it would reflect very well on Ryder & Bloom to have to croak my way through this entire meeting. “A water would be great.”
Brenda reaches down below the desk and there’s a click as she pulls open what has to be some kind of mini-fridge. She hands the chilled bottle of water over to me with a grin, and then she comes back around the desk to usher me to one of the seats. “Make yourself comfortable. That must have been a long drive—four hours, right?”