The Man Behind the Rusted Pickup
Chapter 3 - The Wrong Entrance
Claire caught up with him outside the meeting room.
Martin was arranging papers at the far end of the table. Through the glass wall, employees pretended not to watch.
“I was joking,” Claire said.
Ethan set down his notebook.
“Which part?”
Her smile thinned.
“You know how we used to tease each other.”
“I remember.”
“Then don't make this into something ugly.”
He looked through the glass toward the lobby. A courier waited by the reception desk, a parcel balanced against his hip. The receptionist pointed him toward a side door.
“Would it have been a joke if I really were making a delivery?” Ethan asked.
Claire followed his gaze.
“There are rules about access.”
“Were you explaining one?”
She said nothing.
He had expected the recognition outside to feel satisfying. For a second, it had. But her sudden change of tone left him with something less comfortable than victory.
She was still speaking to the same man.
Only his title had changed.
Claire folded her arms.
“I work in client relations. I have a reputation here.”
“Then we'll keep our work professional.”
“Are you going to fire me?”
“No employment decision will be made because we dated.”
Relief crossed her face too quickly.
“But what happened at the entrance will be handled through the normal process,” he added. “I won't be the person reviewing it.”
Martin approached quietly, giving Claire time to leave.
When she had gone, Ethan opened the folder.
“Before we start,” he said, “I want to understand how visitors and contractors are treated downstairs.”
Martin took a seat.
“Is this about her?”
“It's about what happened in front of a dozen people, and how ordinary it seemed to them.”
