Naked Ambition (Grim and Sinister Delights Book 1) by Lisa Henry

Author:Lisa Henry [Henry, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Mike

Mike was starting to dread going into work each morning. He’d always enjoyed working at House of Romano, but there was no denying there was now a sort of a black cloud hanging over the place. He walked in every day past the weird art installation in the lobby and took the elevator up to his floor, not knowing who’d been sacked, or who’d quit since his last time through the doors. The place seemed poisonous now, the air itself toxic. There were whispered conversations in the corridors that trailed off into silence when he passed, and nobody laughed in the lunchroom anymore. Nobody even took the free snacks in the weekly meetings, like they were afraid it was the wrong move to make. Even Karl was increasingly jittery, jolting whenever someone knocked on their office door like he was expecting any minute to be told to clean out his desk and leave the premises.

“It’s a fucking mess,” Daichi said in a low voice as he and Mike shared an elevator one morning. “Jesus, you think it’s bad down here? It’s fucking carnage on the executive floor! It’s the fucking Hunger Games up there. Everyone’s back-stabbing everyone else to try to save their own sorry asses from the weekly fucking purge.”

“Does Mr. Ellison even know what he’s doing?” Mike asked, aghast.

Daichi snorted. “Dude, are you going to tell him? Because everyone who’s tried that has already been fired.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m putting my two weeks’ notice in,” Daichi said. “I loved this place, but I can’t work here anymore, man.”

“Shit, really?” Mike frowned. “I’ll miss you, Daichi.”

“Yeah.” The doors pinged open on Mike’s floor. “Me too, but I gotta do it.”

“Of course,” Mike said, stepping out into the foyer. “We’ll catch up for drinks before you go, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Daichi smiled at him as the elevator doors rolled shut.

Mike sighed and headed for his office.

He spent the morning applying for new jobs and wondering if it was time to leave New York and head back home to Sauk City, Wisconsin. Finally put his degree to use maybe, and get a job as a CPA at Nicholson’s. Dad was always telling him that Mr. Nicholson was asking after him, and would probably offer to hire him. Maybe it was time to find out if that was true. Mike was pretty sure there was nothing in New York he’d really miss apart from the food. You couldn’t get a 3 a.m. shawarma in Sauk City, that was for sure. But rent would be a hell of a lot cheaper.

He thought of the watercolors in Luca Romano’s office, and the emotions they had evoked in him.

That—he wanted that. He wanted to be somewhere that Christian might have painted; somewhere he could breathe.

At lunchtime, Mike went out for a bagel. He was on his way back and waiting for the elevator in the lobby when he heard the crash of something falling, and spun around to see Christian Roquefeuil coming off second best to the art installation by the reception desk.

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