Chapter 6
It was Monday.
Everything started to fall apart with a single phone call.
At nine in the morning, I was still lying in bed, scrolling through my phone.
My sister had left at seven, and before heading out, she stuck a sticky note on the fridge:
"There's leftover food in the fridge; microwave it for two minutes. Don't order takeout, you loser."
I glanced at it, then opened the delivery app and ordered a forty dollar steak dinner.
Then my phone rang.
Richard was calling.
"Sir, we've got a situation," he said.
"Shoot," I replied.
"Grant Holdings is running a personnel shake-up today, executive meeting and all. But there's one item that needs your signature," Richard said.
"Can't I just sign it online?" I asked.
"Nope. Legal says this is a three-way original share transfer, and you have to sign it yourself, in person," Richard replied.
"Which office?" I asked.
"Grant Tower, 47th floor, Executive Office," Richard replied.
The address was Grant Tower.
It stood right in the heart of downtown.
Emily worked in the Grant Holdings marketing department, up on the 22nd floor of the same building.
"What time?" I asked.
"Two o'clock this afternoon," Richard replied.
"Got it," I said.
I hung up and started figuring out Emily's schedule.
At two on Monday afternoons she was usually on the 22nd floor for her team's weekly meeting.
The executive elevator to the 47th floor was completely separate from the ones the regular staff used.
In theory we would not run into each other.
That was the theory.
At 1:30 in the afternoon I changed clothes.
I couldn't dress too well, in case I ran into my sister on the way.
But I couldn't look like a mess either, because I was heading to my own Executive Office.
So I settled for a black turtleneck and some dark gray slacks.
It made me look like a designer, or maybe a barista.
It was vague enough.
Richard's car picked me up in the underground garage.
We went straight to the back entrance of Grant Tower, where a private elevator whisked me right up to the top floor.
The elevator doors slid open.
The doors opened on the 47th floor.
I took a deep breath and stepped out.
All four secretaries from the Executive Office shot to their feet at once.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Grant."
I sent: [Got it.]
I swung open the door to the Executive Office.
Floor-to-ceiling windows let me overlook half the city.
A thick stack of paperwork sat on the desk.
I took a seat and grabbed a pen.
Richard stood next to me, walking me through every clause, page by page.
I spent twenty minutes signing my name.
My wrist was killing me.
On the last page, I put my thumbprint.
"Alright," I said, standing up. "If there's nothing else, I'll..."
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Zoe Langley's voice came from outside. "Mr. Grant, Emily from Marketing says she has last month's event recap report for executive review. She's asking if she can bring it up herself."
I froze.
Zoe had said Emily.
She was coming up.
She was headed for the 47th floor.
She was on her way right then.