“It’s just that the microwave is available right now. If you don’t get your lunch in now, you’ll miss your window.”
“Fran, not now.” The microwave availability window was not her major concern.
“But the microwave needs cleaning. This is last call!”
Gabby looked between Fran and her phone. She took off for the break room at a near sprint because Fran wouldn’t leave her alone if she didn’t put something in the microwave. In a big fucking hurry, she threw in a chunk of meat loaf she didn’t even want and punched some buttons. On the way back to her desk, she gave Fran a glare. “I’m a little busy. Just take it out if it beeps. Okay?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurry you.”
She flashed a tight smile. Just as she sat down, the phone rang, and Gabby’s nerves jangled louder than the ringtone. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for action.
Fran, who could just not mind her own fucking business, appeared out of nowhere. “Go get your lunch. I’ll answer the phone.”
What was Fran’s problem today?
“I got it.” She practically threw herself on top of the desk to block Fran. “eStocks Enterprises,” she said. “Good morn—”
“Camille!” Laura Kramer yelled her name into the phone.
“Mrs. Kramer?”
“It’s Laura Kramer. Is George there? It’s an emergency. Ohmygod. I don’t know what to do.” Laura Kramer was clearly distraught, her voice high and frantic. “There’s smoke coming from the garage, and ohmygod, I see flames. Flames!”
“Let me get him.” Gabby practically ran across the hall to Kramer’s office. She barged into the room without knocking. “Mr. Kramer,” she yelled.
“Camille! Knock, would you? I’m busy.”
“But—”
“Get out, Camille.”
“It’s your wife,” Gabby rebutted, shoving the phone into his hands.
He shook his head and glared at her until he heard his wife screaming. “A fire? Did you call nine-one-one? I’m not the fire department, Laura.”
Gabby’s heart went out to Laura.
Then his tone changed. “The garage!” He leaped to his feet. “Fuck. You can’t be serious. Don’t tell me… the cars?”
“Geez, this guy,” Markus muttered in her ear.
Gabby heard Laura scream.
“Not the Bentley!” He groaned like someone had physically hurt him.
Gabby laser-eyed him from across the room. He hadn’t even asked about Laura or the kids, just his stupid cars.
“The Lambo.” He cried out. “No. No. No!”
They were going up in flames one by one, just like Valentina had promised.
“Where the hell is the fire department? Where are my fucking taxes going anyway?” Kramer couldn’t sound more Republican if he tried.
The fire department was on standby. The EOD had no intention of harming Laura or the kids, just getting George Kramer to get out of his office.
He hung up the phone and reached to shove a few papers in his briefcase. “Cancel all of my meetings for the rest of the day,” he barked. “Call Ted and tell him the rates are too high. He needs to sit tight.” He glanced back at the computer. “And call Jeremy to verify that the wire went through on his end.” As he mentioned the wire transfer, he glanced back at the computer and the safe, its door swung wide open. “Fucking A.” He threw his briefcase down and started to head in that direction.
“Mr. Kramer, I’ve got it. You have to hurry.”
