“No, don’t be an idiot. You’ll stand out because you don’t belong there, and this is a very, very bad idea.”
“What is?”
Phoebe jumped and dropped her files all over the floor. “Damn it,” she muttered and bent down to pick them up until she saw the patent leather shoes in front of her. Slowly, her eyes scanned higher until she was staring into the face of William Yancey himself. “Oh, Lord, I’m so sorry, Mr. Yancey.”
“It’s quite all right…Ms. Baron, is it?”
“Yes, sir. I didn’t hear you come in. Was there something I could help you with?”
He bent down and helped her scoop the files back together, then stood as she made her way back to her desk—all alone in the archival room. “Yes, I need the files pulled from the latest programming for FN-275. I’m having a meeting today, and I would like to be well-prepared for it.”
“FN-275…just one moment. I think I finished those right before I went on vacation.”
“Vacation? Ah, and how was that?”
Phoebe frowned with her back turned. Why the hell was he making small talk? She typed the file name in her database and waited for it to give her the exact location. “I’m afraid I didn’t get to go anywhere. Taking care of an ill mother, if you recall.”
She didn’t turn around to see if anything registered on his face, and when he didn’t reply, she knew he’d completely forgotten about her frequent requests for help. But it didn’t matter. She had a rich boyfriend now and all her problems were solved.
Yeah, except now you have to dress up like some Barbie doll and parade around with him.
Phoebe told herself to get a grip as she dug for the files. “Ah, here we go. It’s a pretty thin file—are you sure there wasn’t something else that went with it?”
“Are you questioning your boss?” he snapped as he took the file from her hands.
“No, just trying to be helpful.”
“Well, do yourself a favor and don’t. Go back to your filing and stop asking questions.”
Her brow furrowed as she sat back down at her desk. “I wasn’t asking questions—”
“If you tell anyone about this, I will ensure that you have no income to support your mother. Understood, Ms. Baron?” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the archives.
Phoebe sat there for a long time, trying to understand what happened. Prick. All she did was ask about the file… She glanced out into the hallway, but it was clear. “Let’s see why you don’t want anyone poking around,” she whispered as she entered a new database, typed in the file name, and clicked the search button.
After a few minutes of her cursor spinning, the search came back empty.
“What? That can’t be right. If I have the hard copy, there has to be data.”
She tried it again and again, but still, nothing came up on her screen. Had he given her the wrong file number? Maybe that was an old one, before she’d started the new system. Her fingers tapped nervously on her keyboard as she tried to decide what to do. If she’d given him the wrong file and he looked like an idiot in front of whoever he was meeting with, it would fall back on her head. That was something she couldn’t afford. But then again, watching him be embarrassed was almost worth it. Almost. But not quite.
“Shit.” Phoebe sprung out of her chair and raced out into the hall, impatiently waiting for the elevator to reach the basement. When she finally made it to the fifth floor and the doors dinged open, she knew she was in trouble. He was probably already in his meeting. She took off at a sprint…and ran straight into a very tall, very strong man.
With a pierced left ear.
“Pirate…I mean, Ben?” she asked in shock as he righted them both.
“Anna?” He stared down at her with a crooked grin. “Did you call me a pirate?”
“What no…I, uh…I have to go…wait, why are you here?”
“I have a meeting with Yancey. Why are you here?”
Phoebe glanced around. People were starting to stare. “I work here, and I have to go, sorry.”
He had a meeting with Yancey? Who the hell was that guy? She glanced over her shoulder to see him following her. “I’m not letting you run off a second time.”
“You don’t have much of a choice unless you want to be late.”
“Then I’ll be late.”
This couldn’t be happening. She was already nervous about tonight, and now he had to show up? “Look, I really have to get back to work…just…please. Don’t follow me.”