The elevator doors closed her in. Genevieve looked down at the full drink in her hand, bubbles rising cheerily in the curved glass. She’d forgotten to hand it off to a waiter before leaving the event below.
Genevieve gulped the champagne and winced when the carbonation hit her nose. Leaving her new boss’s birthday party, drinking alone in an elevator, following the niggling feeling in the back of skull up into the dark offices…. Genevieve pursed her lips disapprovingly at her reflection in the elevator doors.
The elevator reached the top level with a gentle chime. Genevieve stepped out onto the lavish mosaic pattern set into the floor outside the doors. Her heels clicked against the stone and she paused. Deciding she’d already given into paranoia coming up, Genevieve slipped off her heavily arched stilettos. She left the shoes by the elevator with the empty glass.
Pale stone floors and glass revealed empty boardrooms and stark orderly admin desks. This floor’s offices were reserved for top leadership, only Genevieve’s boss and a few others.
Genevieve slipped up to the thick double doors of her boss’s office. Twenty stories below they’d be toasting him by now. The lock clicked when the biometrics picked up her signature.
It was dark inside the office. Genevieve’s winced when she caught the sudden scent of sandalwood. “Isra.”
Her dress was stormcloud grey, a tight matte fabric that melded into the shadows just as it had probably blended perfectly into the crowd below. Thick midnight hair up in an elegant twist, sling-back heels, little make-up. Those were familiar, the wide eyed surprise on Isra’s dark features was not and Genevieve enjoyed it for a heartbeat.
“So you didn’t know I worked here. That’s a relief.” Genevieve shut the door behind her and flicked on a soft light. Isra relaxed a little, the thin file in her hand going to her grey-swathed side. Genevieve stopped when she saw it. “But that. That’s a problem.”
“I– it’s good to see you Gen.” Isra smile was more grimace. She gently kicked a lower desk drawer closed before she stepped forward.
Genevieve looked around the office. Seemingly, nothing was out of place. It was exactly as she’d left it before the party, the closed portfolios stacked and waiting for monday, fresh supplies, the decanter full in the glass cabinet behind the desk.”So how bad is it?”
“We don’t know yet.” Isra’s perfectly french manicured fingers tightened a little around the file. “Henderson doesn’t keep digital.”
“Too easily stolen. I know.” Genevieve kept her tone even. She’d wanted her sudden panic in the ballroom below to be new job jitters, or wistful nostalgia, or even a mental excuse to get out of the crowd. She hated being right. “You can’t take those.”
A small shift straightened Isra’s spine. Genevieve swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She dropped her eyes with a sigh. “He’ll notice. I can make copies but I want my cooperation noted if things go down.”
Isra followed her out of the office to the empty admin desk at the end of the hallway. The copier was off, and the damn thing always took a minute to warm up. The soft click of plastic machinery filled the silence between them. Isra watched the copier, Genevieve watched the floor.
“Did you see me?” Isra asked.
Genevieve held out her hand for the file. Isra passed it over and Genevieve shook her head. One by one the financial reports she’d never seen before passed into the copier. Maybe it was time to start the job search again. “I smelled sandalwood in the lobby, and then again in the hallway. Kind of surprised you kept the perfume.”
Isra took the warm duplicates. “I liked it. I did tell you that.”
She shrugged in response. The darkened offices were suddenly the last place she wanted to be. To her nose, they all reeked of sandalwood. Finished, she turned off the copier. “I’m going downstairs, there’s an open bar and I need a drink.”
Isra nodded and folded the copies into her clutch. Of course it was dark grey like her dress, perfectly matched. “I’ll keep you out of things.”
Genevieve tightened her jaw until her teeth ached. “I know you will.” She left Isra on the top floor, picked up her shoes, and welcomed the sterile metallic smell of the elevator.