And I can’t give it to her, because it’s the one thing money can’t buy.
My cell rings, dragging my thoughts back to the real world. The one where I don’t waste time debating relationships and happily ever after. The one where my priorities haven’t changed. The one where Triada is my world.
Miles’s number flashes on the screen and I swipe accept.
“I’m glad I caught you,” he says, skipping the greeting. “Please tell me you’re still at your computer.”
“I am.” I click send on the email I’ve just written. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of ducking out at five o’clock.”
Miles puts in his time, but that doesn’t mean I can’t bust his balls. After the other night at the beer garden, he has it coming.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, completely unfazed. “I need a favor.”
I snort. “What else is new?”
“Lief, the HR Director,” he adds, like there might be another Lief to confuse him with, “requested a copy of the employee satisfaction survey Scarlett sent out. But she left early for a meeting with her student advisor, and I don’t know where the results are saved.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” The idea of sharing Scarlett’s work without her knowledge leaves a foul taste in my mouth. Which is ridiculous because the survey, and the results, are Triada property.
“No.” Miles doesn’t elaborate. “Trust me, Scarlett won’t mind. She’ll be thrilled that Lief’s taken an interest. She’s getting her master’s in industrial and organizational psychology, you know.”
I do know. And I know the clock’s ticking on her career as an executive assistant. A fact it seems neither Miles nor I are interested in acknowledging.
“Do me this solid, and I’ll owe you one,” he says smoothly, reminding me why he’s the sales and marketing guy. “You can find her ID and grab the survey from the cloud in no time. We both know it’ll take me forever, and then I’ll be late for dinner with Lucy.”
“God forbid,” I deadpan, not bothering to mention he’s not the only one with a date tonight.
Mainly because I have no interest in another lecture about my intentions toward Scarlett.
“Lief’s at his desk now, waiting for the file.”
We disconnect and I pull up Scarlett’s ID and log into her cloud storage. It takes me all of two minutes, but I’m not about to share that information with Miles. Might as well let him think he owes me big time, because who knows what favor I’ll need next.
I scroll through her files, giving silent thanks for her organizational abilities. She makes this stuff a cakewalk. Hell, even Miles could’ve managed if he’d bothered to try.
It doesn’t take long to find the survey, so I download the results and email them to Lief before returning my attention to my own work. I get through another half dozen emails before Oreo starts yipping at the door.
“You were just out.”
She yips again and I check the time on my computer monitor.
“Fine. I can finish the rest at home.”
I pack up and we head out, but as we step into the silent reception area, the printer whirs to life, scaring the shit out of me.
Oreo growls and bares her teeth like it’s the first time she’s heard the printer in action, which I guess is possible since we’re a paperless office. I cross the room and grab the first page it spits out.
Operation Improve Employee Morale.
Could these be new ideas Scarlett hasn’t presented yet?
Curiosity unfurls in my chest and before I can consider my actions, I grab the next page and start reading.
The spreadsheet is labeledSuggestion Box. Like all of Scarlett’s work, it’s neat and orderly. There are headings for dates, suggestions, rationale, and comments.
I start with the first row dated January fifth.
Suggestion:Install sleeping pods to accommodate power naps.
