"Exactly what am I doing here?" I pull my arm free so I can turn to face her directly. "I can't imagine what you found that warrants me dropping everything to come down here."
"I can't say it, sir." She blushes as she looks up at me. "Can you please just come with me so I can show you?"
"Fine," I snap. Unless I give this woman what she wants, which amounts to even more of my time, she's not going to leave this be.
I follow her through the store, my eyes locking briefly with Isla's as I offer a simple greeting to the customer she's helping. Although I want nothing more than to stop to speak with Isla, I don't. I need to see what has Cicely in knots so I can get to the first of several meetings I have scheduled this afternoon.
"It's right over here, sir." Cicely marches across the tiled floor of the cramped office to a wastebasket sitting next to a plain metal desk covered in invoices, order forms and schedules.
"What is over here?" I stop to glance down at my smartphone in my palm.
"That." Her hand darts into the air towards the wastebasket. "I found that on the floor in one of the change rooms an hour ago."
I shake my head as I move towards her, my eyes glued to her face. "We hired you for this position because of your background in retail, Cicely. Unless you can show more leadership and take more control over this store, I'm going to discuss an alternative arrangement with Rowan."
The expression on her face doesn’t shift at all and I realize she likely didn't hear anything I just said. Her hand is bobbing in the air right above the wastebasket.
I drop my gaze, lean forward and look in.
"You found that in a change room?"
She nods briskly. "I found it an hour ago, sir."
"Who was working then? Who was here?"
Her bottom lip quivers slightly. "It was just me and Isla. We were the only two here."
I stare at the used condom and the empty foil packet. It's the same brand that fell from Isla's clutch and littered the floor of the club.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Isla
I saw Mr. Foster checking me out when he walked into the boutique twenty minutes ago.
Checking me out may be too strong of words, or more likely, wishful thinking.
I did notice him staring in my direction. It may have had everything to do with the fact that I didn't have enough time to straighten my hair after my shower. I'm a mess. I overslept this morning and being late isn't something I can afford to do right now.
I can't screw up again. Mr. Foster made that very clear.
"Isla, I need a word."
My head pops up at the harsh clipped sound of Mr. Foster's voice. He's standing in front of the counter, not more than two feet away from where I am. Cicely is next to him, her arms folded across her chest.
I'm in shit. Real shit this time.
"Of course, sir," I say in the most sincere tone I can muster. "Can someone take over for me?"
Cicely looks around the store. "Steph started ten minutes ago. I'll get her to watch the register."
I nod as I stand in place, my eyes focused completely on Mr. Foster. He's wearing a black shirt and suit today. The only contrast is the silver tie around his neck. He's polished, calm and judging by the way he's looking at me, he's not going to be as understanding as he was last time.
Lucky for me, I haven't broken any rules since then; at least, none that I know of.
"We'll do this in the office." He steps away from the counter just as Steph, another sales associate, comes into view. "Follow me."
I do as I'm told. My heels drumming a fast beat against the tiled floor as I fall in step behind him. I don't turn to look but I know instinctively that Cicely is pulling up the rear of this train of doom.