Page 119 of Tasty Cherry
At least she realizes the gravity of this.
Now for Jessie. Since I’m so close, I decide to walk into HR. It’s still the lunch hour, so only Emily is inside the big room. I wonder if she hooked up with Maverick like he planned. Not my business. They are close enough on the hierarchy that it doesn’t matter.
Thankfully, Jessie’s having lunch at her desk, holding a sandwich from the cart in the lobby as she clicks around on her mouse.
I lean inside her office. “Can I borrow you for a bit?”
She looks up. “I’m deep in payroll approvals.”
“Havannah is waiting for us.”
“Oh.” She wraps her sandwich up and sticks it in a tiny fridge in the corner. “Who is it this time?”
“Me.”
“Oh.”
Emily watches us as we cross the office to the hall. I pop my head into Raya’s room. “Havannah is meeting us in her suite. You ready?”
Raya rises from the desk, picking up her ever-present iPad. I don’t carry one, preferring to keep tech out of my interactions. I take my notes afterward. Raya uses hers like a shield.
Havannah’s suite is tucked in the same tower as the private restaurant. I scan my card, and we are silent as we ride to the tenth floor, which can only be accessed with four IDs in the entire staff. Me. Trey, head of maintenance. Anna, head of housekeeping. And Hank, head of security. We have to escort anyone else who goes there, or Havannah does.
But that’s how much trust she’s put in me. I hope I haven’t wrecked it.
We step into a small foyer outside the elevator. There are two doors. One to the stairwell, which is similarly secure, and Havannah’s door.
I knock on it.
Havannah’s husband Donovan answers. “Hey, everyone.” He nods at us. “Come on in. Please make it quick.”
“Nonsense,” Havannah calls from inside.
We all enter the soothing cream and lavender interior. Havannah is propped on pillows on a chaise. She wears a loose pink dress that reaches her ankles.
“You feeling okay?” Jessie asks.
Havannah waves away her concern. “Bored out of my mind. Someone isn’t letting me so much as log onto a tablet.” She shoots a look at her husband.
Donovan pinches his lips. “Havannah is hardheaded when it comes to doing what she wants. I’m insisting she takes six weeks to recover after the baby comes.”
“Two,” she says.
“Four,” he volleys back.
“We have it handled,” I say. “You take all the time you need.”
It’s then that I notice a tightness in her expression. She grips one of the pillows so hard that her fingers are white.
Donovan scowls.
They are more upset about this meeting than they are letting on.
“Everybody sit down,” Havannah says, gesturing to the sofa and scattered chairs. “Sebastian sounded all doom and gloom, which isn’t like him. Let’s get to it.”
Jessie and Raya sit on the sofa, and I take a wide armchair. I consider how I will start this without being too shocking.
But Raya does it for me. “Earlier today, I discovered our general manager fraternizing with one of the interns in an empty apartment on the staff wing.”