Phaedra reached over and picked up the cell phone from the passenger seat. I’m just going to have to call him and apologize for being late. As she placed the Bluetooth in her ear and scrolled through the contact list, the phone started to ring. It was Bastien.
“Phaedra Burke-Carter speaking.”
“Ms. Burke-Carter. It’s Bastien Thibeadaux.”
“Mr. Thibeadaux! I was just about to call you.”
“Really? Let me guess. You’re stuck at the entrance?” He didn’t sound irritated like he had when he’d ended their conversation on Tuesday. Phaedra found herself thinking how much she liked the sound of his voice when he wasn’t snarling at her.
“Yes, I am. There’s a train crossing and it seems to be taking forever. Is there another entrance to the facility?”
“Yes, ma’am. About a half mile up the road, off to your right.”
She rolled down the window and stuck her head out to see. “I guess it doesn’t make a difference. I’m sandwiched between several large trucks.”
“Then you’d better sit tight,” he advised. “Some of those crazy rig jockeys have been known to whip out into traffic when you least expect it. When the gate lifts, pull forward to the guard station, give them my name and then take the left fork toward the main building. It’s a red brick building.”
“Got it. Left fork. Red brick building,” She repeated. “See you in a minute. Oh, and Mr. Thibeadaux…”
“Yeah?”
“How did you know I was stuck at the train crossing? I could have been just running late.”
This time, he did laugh. A deepthroated chuckle that rumbled in her ear and sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “Ms. Burke-Carter, people like you don’t run late.”
“People like me?” she said, inviting him to explain.
“Type A personalities,” he went on. Phaedra translated control freak in her head.
“Besides, I can see you from the security monitors up here. I’ve been watching you for the past ten minutes. You are driving the charcoal-gray SUV, right?”
“That’s me,” she confirmed.
“Nice ride,” he remarked. He seemed more relaxed than when he had first spoken with her.
“Thank you,” Phaedra responded automatically to the compliment. She also sent her thanks to the heavens for small favors. Just because she was prepared for his hostility and resentment didn’t mean she wanted to deal with it now. Now, she wasn’t sure what to expect from him.
When the last railcar rumbled by, the railroad crossing arm lifted, she waited her turn as the trucks ahead pulled up to the guard station. By the time it was Phaedra’s turn, she already had her driver’s license out, presenting it before the security guard requested it.
“I’m here to see Bastien Thibeadaux at CT Inspectorate.” The guard recorded her license number on a clipboard and walked around the SUV to list the make and model.
“Have a nice day.” He waved her on. She veered left, toward the signs indicating visitor parking. Parking spots were reserved for the CFO and COO. A third sign was planted in front of a parking space that was twice as large as the other two spaces combined. The sign was white, trimmed in red and black with the letters G-PAW.
G-paw? What kind of a company position is that? There were a few other parking signs, a couple of marked spots for disabled employees or visitors. There were also some signs designated for short-term parking—only thirty minutes. The others seemed to be free and open to anyone. Phaedra pulled past the spot she wanted and then shifted the car into reverse to back into the spot.
She collected her briefcase from behind the passenger seat and one more item that she’d remembered to bring along—the college annual of her junior year. If she had any doubts before who Bastien was, they were erased the moment her eyes landed on his pictures in the annual. He was that boy. She’d looked up each reference to his name, marking every page. Phaedra also double-checked that there were no pictures of her in that slinky leopard costume. For this meeting, she wanted him to take her seriously. He wasn’t going to do it if he was too distracted by thinking of her as she was back then. Since he didn’t seem to remember her, she would continue with the meeting as if they’d just met for the first time today. First impression, fresh impression.
She climbed out of the car and slipped the keys into her jacket pocket. One last time check. Perfect timing! She’d made it with one minute to spare. As Phaedra pushed open one side of the double doors, a rush of cool air and music playing softly over the public address system greeted her.
Directly in front of her was a large, curved reception desk. The desk was black and sleek with a genuine gray-and-brown speckled marble counter. She approached the desk, smiling at the receptionist. A woman with blond hair pulled back into a cascading ponytail sat, elbows planted on the desk, face propped up on her fists. She licked her thumb and turned the page of a fashion magazine.
“Good afternoon.” Phaedra greeted and pulled the sign-in book toward her. “I’m here to see Bastien Thibeadaux.” In neat, block letters, she printed her name, the time of arrival and the person she’d come to meet. Her eyes scanned down the page, noting the number of other visitors, their arrival and departure times.
“Yes, ma’am. He’s expecting you. Can I see your ID please?”
The receptionist took and scanned the ID. Seconds later, Phaedra’s information appeared on the computer monitor. A printer whined and spat out a label with Phaedra’s image and name on it. Visitor and Escort Required was stamped across the bottom.
“Here you go, Ms. Burke-Carter. Just attach it to your jacket.”
Phaedra affixed the label below her right shoulder.
“If you’ll just have a seat, Mr. Thibeadaux will be right with you. Can I offer you something while you wait? Coffee? Soda? Help yourself. It’s right over there.” The receptionist pointed with her pen at a small glass table across the room holding a coffee bar and baskets of assorted snacks.
“No thank you.” Phaedra always refused the initial offer of a beverage. Fumbling around with coffee cups or soda cans could get awkward during first meetings. Bypassing the snack bar, she took a seat.
The seats in the reception room were made of chrome and gray vinyl, matching the gray flecks in the reception desk countertop. They were deeply padded and comfortable, with high round backs and curved arms. After she sat down, she expected Bastien to come through another set of double doors to the right of the reception desk. Two minutes ticked by. Three. She was on time. He was now the one officially late.
Phaedra’s eyes drifted to the selection of magazines on the table beside her. She selected one, not really interested in reading any of the articles, but wanting to find something to do with her hands while she waited.
Ten more minutes passed before she loudly shuffled the magazine, a not-so-subtle hint that she was still waiting.
“I just paged Mr. Thibeadaux,” the receptionist assured her. “He’s on his way.”
Just as Phaedra was glancing at her watch and comparing it to the decorative row of wall clocks indicating the time in various cities, the side doors swung open and Bastien Thibeadaux walked through the door.
No, not walked through, he stormed through like a force of nature. When Bastien Thibeadaux shoved open the double doors, it made Phaedra jump. The resounding echo as the doors flung open reminded her of thunder.
Phaedra looked up from the magazine, meeting Bastien’s gaze from across the room. It took her less than a second to collect herself. In that time, she took him in from the top of his closely cropped, but wavy hair all the way down to his