I giggled again, then disappeared into her bathroom to try the dress on. At that point, I was hardly surprised that the thing was a perfect fit. My life might have turned slightly upside down since my move to London, courtesy of the amnesiac Robert Cross, but meeting Madison Montgomery was an undeniable plus. “It’s absolutely perfect!” I exclaimed, smoothing the sides while turning this way and that to examine myself in her mirror. “You know, all jokes aside, you should really invest in one of those little—”
The door burst open as she rushed inside with a curling iron, a straightening iron, an actual iron, and a set of curlers to boot. She plopped them all down on the counter, again donning her satisfied smile, oblivious to my look of blatant disbelief.
“Have you settled on any kind of style,” I asked politely, “or is this strictly for the verbal irony of the thing?”
A sarcastic glint flashed in her eyes as she plugged in the curling iron. “Joke all you want, missy, but by the time I’m done with you, Robert Cross won’t know what hit him. You’ll need Ronald’s armor to keep him off you!”
Chapter 11
At precisely seven sharp, Madison and I breezed into the lobby of Cross Enterprises like it was our own personal runway, walking in what felt like slow motion as the people milling about turned to stare at us. The click-clacking of our stilettos echoed on the slick marble, and our long hair glistened beneath the fluorescent lights as we tossed it expertly over our shoulders. We even flashed perfectly choreographed winks at the doorman as we sailed by.
“Thanks, Jerry,” Madison purred. “You’re the best.” Then, the second we were out of earshot, she advised, “Tip Jerry well, and once a year, he’ll agree to lock a person of your choosing outside in the cold. For the last three years, Henry has been freezing his little tallywacker off.”
I laughed softly, glancing over my shoulder and flashing the friendly doorman a pearly smile. I knew it was better to get on his good side right away, so I could find a Henry of my own instead of being someone else’s.
The same receptionist I’d met before looked up and paled as we headed to her counter. Her eyes swept over Madison, then landed on me as she discreetly crossed her body beneath the desk, as if she was preparing to exorcise some demon. “Heaven help us, there are two of you,” she muttered when we approached.
“Cut the crap, Susan,” Madison snapped, all business as she leaned across the counter and glared at the woman with a threatening scowl. “Did you get what I asked?”
Susan scowled right back at her, as fiercely as she could, which was quite remarkable, considering that her full-on panic attack was obvious the second Madison sauntered through the door. “Yes, I did, but I must say, Miss Montgomery, this is not really part of my job description, and—”
“Your job description is to do what you’re told by people who have job descriptions like mine. Now just give it to me.”
I looked on curiously as the poor woman reached beneath the counter and pulled out a white paper bag. She glanced nervously this way and that before passing it to Madison, wearing the grave expression of someone who’d just committed a major felony.
The second the bag was in her hands, Madison’s face grew saccharine sweet. “Thanks, Susy. You’re a peach.” Then, without another word, she cocked her head toward the elevators and turned to sashay away in that direction, well aware that every man on the ground floor was watching every step she took.
“And what, exactly, was all that about?” I asked the second the doors closed. My eccentric new friend had yet to lead me astray, but I couldn’t help but question her methods.
She smiled to herself and hit the button to start the lift. “Oh, you’ll see.”
When the doors dinged opened, I realized we weren’t on the right floor. Rather, we were in the penthouse, the top-level offices on the sixty-fifth. Baffled, I glanced around in confusion quickly asked, “What’s going on?” I glanced around in confusion. “Is there another meeting this morning, one you forgot to tell me about?”
“Not at all.” Then, in a single motion, she pressed the bag into my hands and shoved me out the sliding doors. “Just a little breakfast delivery. Meet me downstairs when you’re done.”
My mouth fell open, but before I could demand more details or dart back inside, the doors slid shut again, and I was on my own in unfamiliar territory.
It was much quieter on that floor, the kind of reverent quiet usually inherent to libraries, churches, and funeral homes. There were fewer offices, and the art on the walls was far more expensive than the décor of the floors below. I wasn’t sure, but I could have sworn that I even heard an actual fountain bubbling around the corner; I hoped that wasn’t just me peeing myself due to nerves.
“Madison, what the hell have you gotten me into?” I muttered between clenched teeth.
In an act of desperation, I opened up the bag to see what was so important that she had to verbally abuse the secretary and send me on some top-secret mission with no debriefing to prepare me. After seeing her house, I knew that literally anything was on the table. Nevertheless, what I saw inside that innocent-looking white bag almost made me lose it right there on the spot.
“Crème puffs! Shit, she made poor Susan run out and get a bag of French crème puffs?”
“Excuse me, miss?”
I turned around and saw an impeccably dressed secretary gazing my way. “Can I help you with something?”
I crumpled the bag closed and offered her the most charming smile I could muster. “Uh, yes, well... My name’s Della Jones, and I’m Madison Montgomery’s new partner. It’s only my second day, and I decided it might behoove me to try to earn some brownie points with the big-wigs by delivering a few breakfast treats. Would you mind pointing me the direction of the CEO’s office?”
A conspiratorial smile flickered across her face as her eyes zeroed in on the bag. “I’d be delighted to...if you’ll let me in on a little of the action.”
Two minutes later, with the secretary properly bribed and licking her cranberry-tinted lips, I was walking down a long corridor to an office nestled away at the end of the hall. As central as it was to the rest of the building, it was still somehow set apart, the perfect place for working in solitude.
This is a bad idea, Della...a really, really bad idea.
The pesky voice echoed in my head with every step, but it fell abruptly quiet when the office door stopped me.