“Right,” Cam sighed. “I remember the basics from my accounting classes.”
“Good. When do you start at Calloway Corp?”
“Twenty minutes,” Cam said. “And I’m wearing my conservative little black dress for the first day, before you ask.”
“Hmmmph,” Erika said. “Some people like the fact that I’m detail oriented.”
Cam rolled her eyes silently. “Yeah, well. You picked me for this assignment. You’ll have to trust me a little more if you expect me to find anything out.”
“I trust you,” Erika said defensively. “I lobbied really hard for you to be put on this assignment. Hell, for this to be investigated at all is a triumph. The big bosses don’t think there’s anything in the financial statements, so they don’t believe you’ll find anything.”
“I know,” Cam said, stopping across the street from Calloway Plaza. “It’s a big deal for me, too. My first real assignment, even if it’s a little unconventional. There is something fishy going on, though. I can feel it. I'm positive money is being misappropriated.”
“Cameron—”
“I should go. I’m too close to the building to be talking to you,” Cam said.
Erika sighed. “Alright. Good luck.”
“I’ll check in with you in a couple of days, okay?”
“Okay.”
Cam hung up the phone, feeling jittery.
She looked up at the main building, where she would enter for her first day of work shortly. It was a thing of beauty, all chrome and glass and concrete, the pride and joy of some designer.
It was a real personal statement for someone, even if the statement was that a private military defense company could be represented by such beauty. She’d been here before, for her three separate rounds of interviews, but now it was real.
This was her first shot at being the journalist who cracked the case. All she had to do now was make friends with some of the higher-ups, get those people to talk about top secret financial information, and back it all up with proof.
She laughed aloud, a shaky sound. She shook out the anxiety built up in her arms and legs, an old habit from her days growing up in the foster care system.
Just shake it off! she thought, picturing her younger self saying it. She’d come a long way since leaving the system at eighteen, struggling through four years of waiting tables and night classes. Then a year ago she’d landed the job at The Daily News, trying to prove herself.
All so she could build up to this. She could do this.
She blew out a breath and crossed the street to Calloway Plaza, determined not to let her nerves show. She straightened her black dress, pulled out her brand new employee ID, and strode in through the high glass doors.
It was a couple of minutes before ten o’clock as she rode up the elevators. She got off on the fifth floor and held her head high. She could do this.
She walked through a set of doors and came to a reception desk. She looked at the elegant waiting area, trying not to lose her nerve.
“Can I help you?” asked the pretty blonde receptionist.
Cam swallowed, trying not to think about how that would be her from now on.
“Hi, I’m Cameron Turner, here to see Stephanie?” she said. She almost tripped over the false last name she was using for the job.
The receptionist nodded and picked up the phone. She spoke into the phone, then hung up.
“You can have a seat,” the blonde said.
Cam smiled and took a seat. She waited for a minute, trying not to fidget.
Moments later, a smooth wooden panel opened, and Stephanie came out. A thin, gray-haired woman with immaculate style, Stephanie had interviewed and ultimately hired her.
Right behind her was another woman, a pretty brunette. The brunette was in tears, holding a cardboard box with what looked like the contents of her desk.
Stephanie stopped and patted the woman on the arm.
“Thank you, Ingrid. You can expect a severance check along with your last paycheck,” she said.
The brunette nodded, holding back what looked like a fresh wave of tears. She turned and practically ran to the elevator.
Stephanie turned to Cam, brightening.
“Cameron! You’re right on time,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Cam said, rising.
“Well, you came at just the right time,” said Stephanie. “Mr. Calloway just lost his assistant. The younger Mr. Calloway, that is.”
Cameron’s eyebrows shot up. “Mr. Calloway? Really?”
“Yes, really. Come on, I’ll get you settled,” Stephanie said, heading to the elevators. “Normally we wouldn’t put a new hire in such an important position, but you have a really excellent résumé . Besides, Mr. Calloway absolutely cannot go without an executive assistant.”
Something clicked in Cam’s head as they stepped onto the elevator. Stephanie pressed the button for the twenty-first floor, one floor down from the top.
“So when you say he just lost his assistant…”
“I mean Ingrid, the girl downstairs. Yes. Mr. Calloway didn’t find her services up to snuff, I’m afraid.”
“I…” Cam said, then shook her head.
Stephanie slid her a look.
“Don’t worry. Your résumé said you’ve worked for three CEOs. This won’t be any different.”
“Right,” Cam said. She gave Stephanie a smile, trying to appear calm and collected.
The elevator doors opened, and Cam walked out into another reception area, this one all done in chrome. There was a receptionist here too, a plump brunette. She frowned at Cam until she saw Stephanie escorting her.
The brunette shot to her feet.
“Ma’am,” she said, dipping her head to Stephanie. “I suppose you know that Ingrid just walked out?”
“Yes, yes,” Stephanie said. “Lucy, this is Cameron. Cameron, this is Lucy. Cameron will be taking over Ingrid’s position.”
Lucy’s jaw dropped. “Already?’
“Would you have Mr. Calloway be without an assistant, Lucy?”
Lucy paled and swallowed. “No, ma’am.”
“Lucy, would you get Cameron settled in? Show her around. I have calls to return.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Stephanie left with a wave of her fingertips, her heels clicking. Cameron turned to Lucy, a little wide-eyed.
“Don’t even start asking questions,” Lucy said, sighing. “Come on, I’ll get you set up.”
“Okay,” Cam said with a shrug.
Lucy led her through a set of chrome doors and down a hallway. She stopped at an empty desk beside a breathtaking view of downtown. Behind the desk was a single door, obviously leading to Mr. Calloway’s office.
“Here’s your desk,” she said, brow creasing. “There’s Mr. Calloway’s office. He keeps the door closed when he’s in a meeting or doesn’t want to be disturbed. Here’s Mr. Calloway’s paper calendar. You should probably take a few minutes to familiarize yourself with his