“Room service,” she said cheerily, burying the sense of unease.
King didn’t acknowledge her but proceeded to poke through the contents of the tray, looking for lord knows what.
Three solid knocks on the door and it opened.
“Finally,” a thin man in a blue polo shirt drawled.“We placed this order ages ago.”Drea pushed the cart over the metal strip of the doorway, the bottles clanked against one another, threatening to fall.
“I’m sorry, sir.The kitchen and bar are very busy this evening.”Her blistered feet were testament to the number of guests.
“Set up over there.”He pointed to a small wet bar.She pushed the cart clumsily,freaking wheel, into the corner.Several men were seated around a large oval table as she walked by.
“The Canadians are taking the stance proximity is the issue.Keeping it away from the masses makes it more palatable…”
Drea glanced up from her position behind the bar.Polo shirt guy paced as he ranted.
A muscular man wearing a cowboy hat grumbled in agreement as he lit a cigar.The scent of tobacco filled the air.“Well, what the fuck do the Canucks know?We got the same amount of land, but they have only ten percent of our population.They got plenty of space to drill without people around.”
Drill?Drea positioned herself so she could hear more clearly, using the mirrors backing the wet bar to properly study the group around the table.
Polo shirt resumed his position at the table.“And they’ll stay all holier than thou until they have a serious leak.Or a hurricane blows through.It’s happened to all of us at some point.”
“Shh,” Cigar guy hissed.He looked straight at Drea’s reflection in the mirror.And she stared at Trip Henderson III, CEO of Cleffan Energy.
Was it still called a heart attack if your heart simply stopped beating in your chest?Because it was really unlikely hers was ever going to work again.Drea forced herself to breathe normally as she wiped down the countertop.Had he recognized her?Did he even know who she was?
Sweat trickled down her back.What would they do to her?What could they do?Throw her over the balcony?Security cameras in the hallway would show her entering the suite and not leaving.Which would be cold comfort if she were found splattered on the concrete.
A loud knock at the door made her jump.Elroy King entered the room again, this time with another gentleman.Henderson stood and walked over to the man, shaking his hand and slapping him on the shoulder.
“Gents.This is the person I was speaking of earlier.Ashley Sullivan.”
Ashley Sullivan?The DEP guy?
Her hands shook.She cracked open the bottles of liquor, set the glasses on the bar, filled the ice buckets, and placed the mixers in the small fridge.Occasionally, she’d sneak a look, memorizing the faces of the men at the table.
The introductions had ended.Drea pushed the cart quickly to the door.A few more minutes and she would be back in the world’s slowest elevator.
“Wait.”Trip walked toward her.
Drea gripped the sides of the cart with both hands.Did she have a weapon handy?The corkscrew lay within reach if she needed it.
She looked up at Henderson.“Did you need something else, sir?”Her voice trembled.
“You have something of mine, I believe.”The flash drive?She’d given it to the police.
His hand slithered round the back of his pants, under his jacket.Oh my God.Please don’t be a gun.Drea took a deep breath.Not in front of all these men.Who likely wouldn’t give a shit if she were gone.
“I need to sign, right?”He was holding a wallet embossed with bullhorns.
She pulled the black folder containing the receipt from the front of her apron and handed it to him.
Lips pursed, he reviewed and signed the bill.He placed it on the cart and withdrew a hundred dollar bill from his wallet.
“Thank you,” he smiled, opening the door so she could leave.
The corridor felt horror-movie long.Drea pressed the button on the elevator.Pressed it again.
“For the love of all things holy,” she said, pressing the button furiously.She gazed over her shoulder, Henderson and the guard were talking.
