Not sure which way led to his office, I turned right and checked the signs on the doors. A dentist. A podiatrist. I turned and headed in the opposite direction. That’s when I saw Marcone Industries. My heartbeat hastened. My mother might have been the driving force behind me being there, but I’d wanted to do this in person. I just didn’t know why I thought it would be easier.
I pulled open the door. The lobby was larger than expected, with a receptionist behind a semi-arc desk that hid the lower half of her body. She looked up as I entered. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Gino—Mr. Marcone.”
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked.
“No, I wanted to surprise him. Is he available?”
Her confused look told me she had no clue who I was. “He’s in a meeting.”
“Don’t interrupt him. I’ll just wait for him to come out,” I said, and took a seat in the waiting area. I busied myself on my phone, scrolling through Thayer’s feed to see what he and my brother had been up to in California. Lots of photos of him inverted filled his feed.
The door to Gino’s office eventually opened. I tucked my phone away and glanced up, expecting to see him, but instead a tall man about his age stepped toward the receptionist’s counter.
I was about to stand up when he spoke. “What do you say me and you hit up the clubs tonight, Simone?”
A shiver raced up the back of my spine, pinning me to my seat. That voice. I knew that voice.
“Is that a yes?” he continued.
My mind worked to place his face. But I couldn’t. The dark hair. The slanted nose. The square jaw. None of that was familiar. But the voice. I’d never forget that voice.
“You know I have a boyfriend,” she said.
“Dammit. I was hoping you ditched that guy,” he said, twisting toward the door. “Maybe next time,” he said as he walked out.
My racing heart was nearly jumping out of my chest. What the hell just happened?
“I’ll go check if Mr. Marcone is ready for a visitor,” Simone offered once he was gone.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. Time seemed to stall.
“Are you okay?” she asked, noting my eyes trained on the door the man just walked through.
“Who was that?” I asked, my voice a mere whisper.
“Carlo?”
“Carlo,” I repeated. He looked different without a mask. I racked my frazzled brain for any mention of Carlo’s name over the past few years. I couldn’t remember Gino ever mentioning him.
“Yes, he’s an old friend of Mr. Marcone,” she explained.
I gasped. Vomit crept up the back of my throat, and I prayed I wouldn’t puke right there. I needed air.
I needed to breathe.
I sprang to my feet and raced out of the waiting room. In the hallway, I froze. What if he was still out there?
The only part of my body capable of moving was my eyes. They slowly shifted to the left. He wasn’t there. They shifted to the right. He wasn’t there either. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. Once I’d waited long enough and I was certain he wasn’t nearby, I moved toward the elevator. With a shaky finger, I managed to press the button, and the elevator arrived within seconds—thankfully, it was empty.
I slipped my phone from my back pocket. I was shaking so bad that I dropped it. I trembled as I crouched down and picked it up. It nearly fell out of my hand again as I clicked Thayer’s contact number. I waited as it rang. And rang. Then, it went to voicemail.
Dammit.
I tried Kason. But his phone rang until voicemail picked up, also.
The elevator came to a stop. When the door opened, I froze. What if he was still out there? I inched out, looking left and then right. When I didn’t see him, I crept into the corner of the lobby behind a tall topiary.