Memories of the night Artem asked me to come into his office haunt me. I can still picture the greasy smile on his face and recall the scent of the cheap cologne he used to wear. I gulp and bite back a few tears. We ascend the spiral staircase leading to the observation deck above the shop. Mr. G unlocks the glass door and holds it open for me.
“Are you . . . crying?”
I stare at the ground and bob my head up and down. There is no hiding it as a few tears escape my cheeks. I use the back of my hand to wipe the corners of my eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. G. It’s been a crappy morning.”
He hands me a box of tissues. We both sit down. “Er,I’m not very good with emotional things, but do you want to tell me what happened?” His voice softens. “Does this have something to do with why you were late today?”
I nod again. “I understand if you are going to have to let me go because of it.”
“Why would I do that?”
I yank a tissue out of the box and rub my eyes. These are not the cheap kind of tissues. They’re the ones that are soft and have lotion in them, so your skin won’t dry out.
“Because Theo and Brittany were both also let go for being late.”
Theo and Brittany were on the gift shop’s staff when I was first hired, but I never had the chance to work with either of them for very long.
“Those two were sacked because they werechronicallylate. I don’t have room on the staff for employees who can’t follow the basic rules of being an adult, like showing up on time. You, however, arealwaysearly. This is the first time I can recall you being late.”
I slowly raise my chin. “That’s because it is, sir.”
Like other members of the military, Mr. G has been trained to keep his facial features stoic and unreadable. “I consider myself a reasonable man. Arriving at work late happens to everyone once in a while. So what’s your reason?”
I blink in surprise a few times. I didn’t think he’d give me a chance to fill him in. Mr. G is the type of man who acts first and asks questions later.
“My wallet was stolen when I was passing through Horse Guards. I would’ve been here sooner, but palace security gave me a hard time about my badge being stolen. My biometric permit card wasn’t enough. I had to wait until I could find a guard whoknew me.”
“Minerva, why didn’t you say anything, or have them ring me to come down to the guard shack?”
“My phone is broken.” My shoulders slump. “I don’t have anyone’s numbers memorized. In hindsight, having you come and sort things out would’ve been the smart thing to do, but I was panicking.”
He stands and glances out the window overlooking the gardens. “If you had to be late, that’s one heck of a reason to be late. I assume you’ve filed a report with the Met police?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And?”
“They’ll call me if there are any updates.”
He sighs. “Let’s take a trip down to security and see about getting you a new badge.” Mr. G’s eyes flash with a determined glint. He means business.
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome,” he says gruffly. “Just don’t let it get around I’m going soft.”
A ghost of a smile appears on my lips. “I won’t.”
Thankfully,the first two hours of my shift pass uneventfully.
Around two thirty, however, Mr. G stalks down to the cash wrap with the shop’s phone in his hand. “It’s for you,” he says.
My cheeks burn. Who would dare be calling at work? My eyes stare at the device in his hands. “Um...”
“Shall I tell the woman you’re not available?”
“Don’t tell me Min is not available because I just heard her voice. Just for the record, the phone isn’tmuted. I can hear every word you two are saying loud and clear.”
“Ugh, Liz.” I face-palm. “It’s my best friend, sir. I’d better take the call.”
