Page 29 of 56 Days
He punches the number into the phone on his desk and puts the receiver to his ear.
It rings just once before a recorded voice says, “Thank you for calling Cirrus Ireland. If you know the extension number, please enter it now. Otherwise, press zero for reception. Please note that—”
He presses zero. There’s a click and one ring, and then a malesing-songvoice says, “Good afternoon, Cirrus. How can I help you?”
“Ah, hi. I’m not sure I have the right number—is this the building on Burlington Road?”
“Who are trying to reach, sir?”
“Ciara Wyse. She’s a”—he flips back to the other window on his computer screen and reads from her LinkedIn profile—“Technical Customer Service Concierge.” He can hear a distant clacking of keys on the other end of the line as he speaks.
“I can’t connect you,” the guy says, “but I can give you her extension number?”
“That’d be great.”
“It’s5-4-1-0.”
He scribbles the number on a pad ofPost-itsby his keyboard, even though he doesn’t intend to actually call her. That would be taking his paranoia to unprecedented heights.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Thanks for calling Cirrus Ireland.”Click.
Oliver is even more confused than before. Either this is, by far, the most elaborate scheme he’s ever been up against, or Ciara really is who she says she is.
A nice girl with no agenda other than theage-oldone. Thenormalone. Liking someone, wanting to get to know them, hoping that things will eventually turn...
Romantic.
The word seems foreign to him, borrowed from another language.
And what if sheisthat? It doesn’t mean the threat is neutralized. It merely swaps one danger for another.
Isn’t this just how the mess in London began?
He should delete her number. Forget all about her and start bringing a packed lunch. Because nothing can happen. Even if—if—he managed to feign normality for a while, the truth would eventually come out. It’s too big to hide.
Everything is so much easier when he stays away from other people. The only way you can lose your own shadow is to stand in the dark.
The problem is, Oliver hates the dark.
He takes out his phone and finds the text message she’d sent him for the purposes of giving him her number.
For future ref: Enterprise, Columbia, Challenger, Discovery, Atlantis, Endeavour.
His thumb hovers over it, ready to swipe to delete.
That’s what heshoulddo.
But he doesn’t.
Today
Lee pushes the bathroom door back just enough to get past it, ignoring the horror that lies on the other side of it for now.
She knows thatthat’sthere. What she needs is to check if anything else is too, first.
If anyoneelse is.
