Chapter 14 Episode 14

I don’t make it anywhere close to my cubicle. Debbie spies me through her open office door as I’mattempting to sneak past the water cooler and hollers my name across the room. “Wright!” I sigh and whisper a silent prayer as I approach her office. When I arrive at her doorway, I don a fakesmile. Maybe she isn’t calling me over to give me s**t. Maybe she just wants to chat. “Debbie,” I say cheerfully. “You look like a ray of sunshine.” This is on account of her cheery yellow pantsuit, which does not match her expression in the slightest. She scowls. “Close the door.” I close the door and approach her desk, clasping my hands behind my back. “Do you see this desk, Wright?” Debbie asks, running her hands over the wooden surface. “Yes …” “Look at how clean it is,” she continues. “No coffee cups, no stray paper clips, and no papersmussing it up.” I narrow my eyes uncertainly. “Yes, it’s a very clean desk.” “Well, it shouldn’t be!” she snaps. “I should be able to look down and see your interview withGabriel Belluci.” She jabs her finger on the empty space in front of her. “Where the hell is it?” “Debbie, I’ve been calling them for weeks,” I explain. “He won’t grant me an interview. His assistantwon’t even pass me through to him.” “I don’t care!” Debbie flings her hands up dramatically. “You wanted the big stories, Alexis. Youwanted the challenge. I thought you were going to impress me, but so far all you’ve done is piss meoff, ye wee diddy.” My heart thuds. I swallow. “I’m trying!” I defend. “I don’t know what more I can do. If he won’t see me, he won’t see me.” “What kind of attitude is that?” she demands. “Did Nellie Bly give up writing the truth just becausethe men of the world told her no? Did she feck!” Nellie Bly is Debbie’s hero. She was an investigative reporter in the nineteenth century who yearnedto write about more than fashion, theater, and the other topics that were deemed suitable for women atthe time. After being railroaded by the male titans of the industry over and over again, she moved toNew York City and famously went undercover in a women’s asylum to expose the horrific treatmentof patients. “I hear what you’re saying, Debbie, but I’m not sure that situation is comparable.” “Of course it is! You need to be aggressive, Alexis.” How much more aggressive can I get? I’ve already been harassing Gabriel’s assistant several times aday. It’s not worth arguing with Debbie though, so I give her a curt nod. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get theinterview.” “You better!” She points a finger at me. “This is your chance, Wright. Don’t screw it up.” My face is hot when I leave Debbie’s office. I’m not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or rage—abit of both, I suppose. I’m mad at Debbie for not understanding how difficult this is. I’m mad at Gabriel for making itdifficult. Most of all, I’m mad at myself for ducking out of his office with my tail between my legs thefirst time around. If I’d had more of a backbone, none of this would be happening. I suppose it’s never too late to develop a backbone, and as a plan forms in my head, I realize I’mgoing to need it. The glass door of Belluci, Inc. slides open and I saunter inside confidently. I am supposed to be here, my casual gait broadcasts. No reason to be alarmed. I smile at the young security guard sitting behind the front desk and continue floating past. “Excuse me, miss?” Shit. I turn on my heel, grinning broadly at the security guard. He looks a few years younger than me, withdark slicked-back hair and a round face. I approach the desk, swaying my hips. “You need to check in,” he says, reaching for the phone. “Who are you here to see?” I bat my eyelashes. “I’m hoping you can help me,” I say. “I’m here to surprise my friend. Herboyfriend just dumped her and I wanted to swing by to cheer her up.” “What’s your friend’s name?” He raises his eyebrows expectantly, hand hovering over the numberpad. I lean against the side of the desk, putting him at direct eye level with my boobs. This is shameless,but Debbie would argue that Nellie Bly would do the same thing in my position. At least, that’s whatI’m telling myself. “Like I said, I want to surprise her.” I giggle. “If you tell her I’m coming, it won’t be much of asurprise.” “I’m sure she’ll be surprised enough to learn you’re in the building.” He shrugs. “Sorry, miss. I don’tmake the rules.” I flick my gaze up and down his torso. “I like a man who takes control,” I purr. “But surely you canmake an exception to the rules for me, just this one little time?” If my flirting is having any effect on the security guard, he doesn’t show it. He isn’t even looking atmy boobs. He’s all direct eye contact and a blank expression. “What’s your friend’s name?” he repeats. I switch tactics. “Please just let me go up. I’ll be in and out and I won’t cause any trouble.” Not true. I am probably going to cause a load of trouble. “I can’t do that.” “But I know that you can.” I can’t help the bite of irritation that enters my tone. This shouldn’t be thisdifficult. “Look, this isn’t going to work.” He rises from the chair and folds his arms. He’s massive. “If youdon’t tell me who you are and who you’re going to see, I’ll have to remove you from the building.” I believe that he will do it. Time for a Hail Mary. I purse my lips and cross my arms to mirror his posture, looking up at him with as much venom as Ican muster. “Do you know who I am?” I ask. “No.” He smiles condescendingly. “That’s part of the problem.” “I’m Alexis Wright,” I say. “If you don’t let me up there, I’ll make sure you’re begging for foodstamps by the end of the week.” I bunch my lips and narrow my eyes, trying to seem as intimidating as possible. The guard laughs and plops back into his chair. “Listen, lady. My boss is a hell of a lot scarier thanyou could ever be. Run along now.” He waves me off. I am humiliated but not deterred. I stomp out of the building and head down the alley beside it, huntingfor a way in. There is a service door, but it is locked. Fine. I’ll wait it out. Somebody will have to come out of there eventually. I take up a spot behind a dumpster where I can keep an eye on the door and crouch down and wait. And I wait. And then I wait some more. My legs are shaking, and my feet complain bitterly. I should have worn a more sensible heel to worktoday, or at least grabbed a pair of tennis shoes from my apartment on my way over here. I’m going toend the day with no interview and ten broken toes. I am considering going inside to try the security guard again when the door squeaks open. A man inchef’s whites steps out and props the door open with a crate, then lights the cigarette between his lips. Bingo. I wait for the man to finish and go back inside, then race forward to catch the door before it closesfully behind him. Success! I enter a service hallway with bright fluorescent lights and creep down it, looking for a staircase orelevator. Zilch. At the end of the hall, there is a door with a small window looking out to the lobby. To the right, I cansee the elevator doors. To the left, the security guard is sitting at his desk. “Shit.” Well, there’s nothing for it. I’ll have to make a run for it. I slip out of my shoes and hold them in myhand, bracing my hand against the door and readying myself. Then I push the door open and sprintacross the tile as quickly as my feet will carry me and jam my finger against the call button. “Hey!” the guard yells. He races around the side of the desk toward me, muttering something into his radio. My heart crashesagainst my ribs and I realize that the elevator has too far to come down. It’s still on the fifth floor. I look around in desperation and spot a door to the stairs, but the security guard is closing in fast. Idodge his hulking form just before he reaches me and race in the other direction, slamming through thedoor to the stairs and bolting up them as quickly as I can. “Stop!” he screams behind me. I keep running, rounding the landing to the first floor and continuing up. What floor is Gabriel’s officeon again? Probably the top one. I look up at the seemingly endless spiral of stairs and swear under my breath. The security guard’s steps pound on the steps below, urging me to move faster. I make it to the fourthfloor when the fourth-floor door bursts open and another security guard snatches my arm, hauling metoward him.