by Sidney Bell
Henniton said, “I don’t like Neeley for this. He’s disloyal. He’ll turn on us as quickly as he’ll turn on them.”
“It’ll be free market information in less than six hours,” Ford replied. “If we don’t go with Neeley, we’ll lose our head start while we search for another source.”
Brogan listened with half an ear. Most of his attention was on his radio, where he’d hear about any trouble that might meet them beyond the elevator doors when they got to the lobby. Henniton considered Ford’s words then said, “Okay. Call him.”
“All right. Now, about facilities management. We need a new director. I’m not working with that idiot anymore.” Ford’s voice was pleasantly deep—not that Brogan cared—but his words were astringent.
“You put up with him for longer than I expected,” Henniton said. Given what he’d heard about Henniton, Brogan half expected fireworks. The tone didn’t seem to offend the man, though. If anything, he sounded amused. “Fire him, then. Although I’d like to point out that I’m supposed to be the cutthroat one, Embry.”
“Thank you,” Ford said.
The elevator stopped on the fourteenth floor, but Mario told the woman waiting there to catch the next one.
When they were on their way again, Ford said, “We should promote Kensing to the position.”
“Which one is he?”
“She is the one who argued for the new plumbing system in buildings ten through sixteen last year.”
“That cost a fortune, didn’t it?” Henniton mused.
“$26,755.” Ford rattled off the figure like recalling numbers from a year ago was nothing.
“Too much,” Henniton said.
“Not compared to the fortune it would have cost us if we hadn’t done it. The great flood of last winter, remember?”
“Oh, that. God, what a nightmare,” Henniton said. He heaved a melodramatic sigh.
“She’s my choice, and she’ll leave if we try an outside hire. Promote her.”
“Fine,” Henniton said.
Ford made a satisfied noise and typed something into his smartphone.
It appeared Joel Henniton allowed his executive assistant—someone who didn’t look old enough to rent a car—to dictate a surprising number of his business decisions. At least Ford seemed viciously competent so far.
The elevator doors opened on the ground floor and Brogan and Mario exited into the busy lobby first, surveying the area as Henniton stepped out behind them. The atrium rose several stories high and people on upper floors could look over the railings all the way to the lobby. The south wall, where the main doors were set, was entirely glass-fronted, letting plenty of gray January overcast in, and the lush greenery, mahogany reception desk and leather couches extended a quiet elegance to visitors.
Gorgeous, but a security nightmare. Too many lines of sight, too much space and cover. Brogan’s skin crawled.
“I’ll be back at one,” Henniton told Ford. “And don’t forget, we’ve got the evening meeting tonight.”
Brogan, in the midst of sweeping his gaze around the lobby, caught the quiet nod Ford gave Henniton.
Then Henniton was striding away, Mario at his side, and Brogan only got one last glimpse of dark, cool eyes and a lovely, unsmiling mouth before Ford vanished into the crush of people bustling through the lobby.
Stop looking at him, asshole, Brogan told himself. And get focused before you get yourself killed.
Don’t miss BAD JUDGMENT by Sidney Bell.
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Copyright © 2017 by Miriam Macrae
Author’s Note
While neither Woodbury nor Roseburg, the facilities Church serves time in, are real, they’re inspired by my experiences working in a place very similar to Woodbury when I was in my early twenties. It had a profound effect on me. I realized how deeply lucky I’d been in being born into the life and family I had, and that many people face far more dire challenges with far more grace than I’ve managed to muster for my own.
We had kids and teens from all over the country, of all races, orientations, educations and backgrounds. Most struggled with substance abuse, mental illness and physical or sexual abuse. Many had been homeless. More than a few were gang members and had committed serious crimes. Some of those kids went on to better things, but others ended up in the system as adults. The one common denominator in the success stories was a refusal to accept their circumstances as permanent.
Church isn’t based on any one of those kids in particular, but he does share that trait with them. That’s probably the most valuable lesson I learned from working with those kids: we all screw up, sometimes profoundly. It’s what we do afterward that defines us.
Acknowledgments
So many people to thank for this one. First, my beta readers: Sasha Gore, Connie Peckman, Damon Talabock, Shannon Ho, Cathy Willson, Mitchell Macrae and Jill Robinson. You guys rock, even if not one of you was nice enough (or liar enough) to say, “It’s perfect just as it is.” Additional thanks goes to Damon Talabock for letting me pick his brain about what it’s like to wrestle with sexual identity and a religious upbringing at the same time. Cathy Willson gets massive thanks for being willing to talk to me for hours to make sure I had a firm grasp on both the parole process and the juvenile justice system, as well as the current lingo employed by both. Further acknowledgment goes to the lovely folks on the internet who responded to my nosy questions about their experiences as people of mixed ethnicity growing up in predominantly white-assimilated households (and to my husband for the same). I hope I’ve captured these experiences honestly, but if I haven’t, that falls solely on me.
Also available from Sidney Bell
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Bad Judgment
About the Author
Sidney Bell lives in the drizzly Pacific Northwest with her amazingly supportive husband. She received her MFA degree in creative writing in 2010, considered aiming for the Great American Novel and then promptly started writing fanfiction instead. More realistic grown-ups eventually convinced her to try writing something more fiscally responsible, though, which is how she ended up here. When she’s not writing, she’s playing violent video games, yelling at the television during hockey games or supporting her local library by turning books in late. Visit her online at www.sidneybell.com.
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BAD JUDGMENT by Sidney Bell
Sidney Bell’s debut male/male romantic suspense delivers an emotionally charged and adrenaline-packed story.
“BAD JUDGMENT is an intriguing and gripping story which will take you on a roller coaster ride filled with emotions and will keep you guessing as to what is coming next and will manage to surprise you at every turn. A phenomenal debut.”
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SINGLE MALT by Layla Reyne
Book one of Layla Reyne’s Agents Irish and Whiskey series brings you a suspenseful and secret off-limits romance.
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ISBN-13: 9781488020186
Loose Cannon
Copyright © 2017 by Miriam Macrae
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