The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

The PR floor was half dead by the time I stepped off the elevator. Most of the lights were dimmed, chairs in the bull pen were pushed in, and the monitor screens were dark.

A few people were still scattered around the floor though. I spotted a guy near the printer, gathering a stack of papers and tapped the counter to get his attention. "Hey, is the head of PR still in?"

He glanced up. "Miss Duke? No, she left about forty minutes ago."

"Perfect," I murmured.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing." I beamed at him. "I just need to grab something from her office real quick. I’ll be two minutes."

He shrugged and went back to his papers. Yeah good for you, buddy.

Alicia’s office was locked. Well crap. How was I supposed to get in? The maintenance floor would have spare keycards for emergencies.

I stalked back to the elevator, went abflew floors down to maintenance and made up a story about how Miss Duke forgot to turn a report in and I needed to get it soon, it didn’t take much convincing for Jason to hand over the key card though, his ears all red around the tips as he beamed nervously at me, lips quivering.

Back on the PR floor, I swiped the card over the sensor on Alicia’s door. It opened with a click and a smile tugged at my lips.

I slipped in, easing the door behind me and crossed to her desk. Now what exactly was I looking for? I didn’t exactly know.

All I knew was she had messed around with my computer searching for something. I tapped a few buttons on her computer and the monitor screen glowed dimly as it came on. After rolling for a few seconds, the lock screen came on.

Of course it was password protected. I protected mine with a password too.

Wait, was that why she had used my computer while it was unlocked? That sneaky bitch.

I leaned closer to look at the lock screen wallpaper. It was a picture of the blondie with a wide toothy grin holding two fingers at the camera mimicking a gun.

That grin, my brows furrowed as I straightened slowly.

Why did that smile look so familiar?

Alicia had smiled at me before but never like this, wth her lips curled to the side like she holding a cigarette between them.

The sound of footsteps outside filled my ears. I didn’t have time. I had to get out of here before anyone of them took proper notice and then blabbed about it to Alicia tommorow.

My fingers wrapped around the handle on the drawers on her desk and yanked. Pens, a stapler, some of Wolfe’s branded stationery and a half empty bottle of perfume rolled around in the first drawer. I yanked the bottom drawer open and groaned. There was nothing there-

Until, my gaze landed on the base of the drawer. It was a different color that the walls of drawer. I ran my fingers over it and felt a slight ridge.

A hidden compartment? Well damn, what on earth was Alicia smoking?

I tugged up the flat board, revealing the hidden compartment. There was a brown envelope that I snatched quickly, dating quick glances at the door to be sure no one was watching.

I pulled it out, lifted the flap and fished out some documents.

Dorian-Wolfe project was boldly written at the top of the first document I saw.

My eyes narrowed into squint. No way. How did Alicia get this? It was a preliminary contract and no one in the PR was supposed to be aware that such a project was even going on in the first place.

What would Alicia even want to use this to do? Unless... a dry laugh left my lips. Unless she was working for Carlton Gayle. No, that was crazy. Why would she then inform us about Carlton’s plan to destroy the VTD?

I searched the other documents and a smaller envelope fell off from between them. A gasp left my lips when I checked its contents.

They were photographs.

My photographs.

"What the fuck?"

Several of them. Me outside the Castellano building, pictures of me and Drake that he had posted like what, ages ago on his Instagram. Every single one had a red marker scrawled across my face.

So it wasn’t paranoia. It wasn’t me being dramatic or reading too much into the blonde barbie’s passive aggressive little digs. Alicia Duke had something against me.

And she was definitely working for Carlton Gayle. She had delivered that information about Vantage media so smoothly, too smoothly in fact, at the launch, standing there looking proud of herself, like she was doing me a favor.

It was fucking trap. "Nice one, Alicia. What a wonderful game you play,"

Footsteps resounded in the corridor. I slid the photographs back into the envelope, arranging the documents as quickly as I could and pressed the compartment back into place, shutting the drawer smoothly. I straightened up and had my phone out by the time the door opened.

It was the guy from the printer.

"Did you find what you were looking for, Miss?"

"Yes thank you, her-"

"Daniel," He supplied, beaming at me.

"Daniel, you are my favorite person on this floor." I patted his arm and left before he could ask what exactly I had come looking for.

Back in my car, I sat for a moment dropping my head against the steering wheel. Those photographs meant Alicia had been watching me long before she even came to work here?

This wasn’t a woman who was jealous over a man or annoyed by a coworker. Why would she have those pictures? I couldn’t even recall ever meeting her.

But then that smile.

I would think about who she was later. I had to find out proof that the Carlton Gayle bullshit she had fed us during the launch was a lie. What had happened to Walsh’s accomplice anyway? All I knew was the security team had rounded him up.

Dennis was head of the team, he would know. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Dennis, dialing his number.

He picked up on the second ring. "Miss?"

"Dennis, the man your team apprehended on the night of the launch. Walsh’s accomplice, what happened to him?"

"Handed him over to the police, why?"He said gruffly.

"I need to speak with him. Can you confirm where exactly he was taken? Prison or wherever?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No... not yet. It’s just, I have a few things to confirm with him. Please, Dennis? I’ll get you those cookies you like,"

He barked a laugh. "I don’t even like cookies,"

I gasped, clutching my chest. "That’s atrocious. Who doesn’t like cookies?"

He chuckled and I could just imagine him shaking his giant head. "I’ll make a call and get back to you."

"Thanks, Dennis, I owe you a box of whatever’s your favorite thing."

"Snakes," he grunted, cackling when I gasped and ended the call.

Jackass.

Ten minutes later, I got a text message from him. The accomplice, Charles Scott, had been take to a correctional facility about forty minutes out of the city.

I drove down there, calling Annette over the phone to tell her. By the time I got there, however, there was no one by the name of Charles Scott in the facility. The police had never brought him in.

What the hell was going on?