Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters Annabelle Hawthorne (ebook reader browser .txt) 📖

Using the reflection in her driver’s side window, she straightened out her dress, tucking the fabric of her light-pink blouse into her black skirt. Letting out a sigh, she grabbed the file from her console, closed the door of her car, and was almost twenty feet away when she realized that she had left her coffee behind.

Disgruntled, she went back for it. There was no way she could survive today without her coffee.

Walking into the office, she didn’t bother taking off her sunglasses, hoping that the receptionist wouldn’t see the bags under her eyes. Somehow, in the span of less than a week, she had gone from being good at her job to a complete wreck. Her boss had informed her that he wanted to meet with her about last week and had told her to bring in a paper summary of the Radley file. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she was going to get busted down to a legal secretary again or if he was just going to cut his losses and let her go. Last night hadn’t helped—every time she’d dozed off, she’d had strange dreams about being chased through a cave.

Lance Ferguson ran the estate agency. He was just past fifty, with a full beard and a bald head. He was one of the nicest men Beth had ever met, but she knew that every minute of the day he was nice was balanced out by the man he would become when he needed to make things happen. Early in her career, she had watched him destroy an opposing attorney in the courtroom. It was the first time she had seen a man who wasn’t on trial cry in court.

“Good morning, Beth.” Lance was waiting for her outside his office. He gestured to the door, and Beth walked in ahead of him. His office was smaller than hers—he was a man of economy, and didn’t like a lot of open space. His desk took up a third of the room, and he waved to one of the comfortable leather chairs across from his own. He closed the door behind her, which was never a good sign. He had a folder of his own on the desk, and Beth saw the name Radley scrawled in Sharpie across the front of it.

“How are you today?” Beth asked. She set her coffee on his desk, followed by the folder.

“Not good, to be honest.” After sliding behind his desk, he opened the file in front of him. “Let’s talk about last week.”

A yawning void opened inside of Beth’s stomach, threatening to swallow up the mask of calm she currently wore.

“I honestly don’t know what happened.” The words didn’t come easily, but they came without her voice breaking. Lance hated it when his employees cried, and she was determined to maintain her composure. The part she hated most was that she truly had no idea what had happened last week. She had returned to work on what she had thought was a Wednesday only to discover that it was Thursday and she had somehow lost an entire day of her life. She had tried to pass it off as some sort of stomach bug, but apparently she had been spotted driving recklessly all over town that day and even had a couple of speeding camera tickets to prove it.

Things had gotten even worse when Lance had discovered that she had failed to report the loss of estate assets. When questioned, Beth had a vague memory of the discovery, something about an unknown storage unit that had auctioned off a couple of boxes. She had no idea how something could have slipped her mind. She had explained to her boss as much as she could, realizing how crazy it sounded. Lance had sat quietly and listened, then sent her home with instructions to avoid any case work for a few days. She had made a quick call to Mike, letting him know she couldn’t stop by on Friday afternoon.

Strangely, Mike had sounded relieved.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Lance broke the silence, staring at her over the top of his glasses. “It’s never a good sign when you can’t account for yourself or your actions.”

Beth nodded. She really had nothing to add.

“I thought about this long and hard over the weekend.” Lance closed the file, setting it on the desk. “You’ve been an exemplary employee. The Radley account is our largest by far, and I worry that Mr. Radley will be extremely displeased to discover that we have misplaced any part of his estate. Frankly, I also worry that we may have to reimburse him for the lost assets, and we both know that could cost the firm a ton of money, depending on what was auctioned off.”

“I can talk to him about it. He seems pretty happy with just the house. Or I can try to recover the assets. Or even both. Whatever you want me to do, Mr. Ferguson.” Beth’s leg was twitching, and she pretended to sip from her coffee. Anything to keep it together, to avoid letting him see the tears that threatened to shove their way forward.

“I’m not going to bullshit you. I was tempted to take on this account personally.”

Beth immediately understood the underlying threat in his words.

“But inspiration came to me in the form of a dream.”

“A dream?”

Lance nodded. “Looking at all the account prep, estate taxes, these Historical Preservation nuts who fought us the whole way, it occurred to me that this was probably too much for a single person to take on. You are amazing at your job, but I think that maybe one person isn’t amazing enough.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“I hired you an assistant.” Lance stood and opened the door to the office. “This young lady approached our firm over the weekend, wondering if we had room for an intern. I thought it would be a great idea to pair her with you.” He waved to somebody out in