The Q was located in the business district of Lancaster, right in the middle of the city center. It towered up to the 77th floor, the highest building in the city and the largest hotel in the country. It used to be known as The Quotidian where most businessmen and women owned a suite there and used them as a second home so it was easier to commute around the area in their busy daily life and work.
It was solely owned by the Love Dynasty, along with dozens of other luxurious hotels in the world. There’s no telling what businesses were owned by the dynasty because they owned either a small portion, half or the entire share of the businesses all over Lancaster. And by dynasty, it was under one prominent name, Richard Gabriel Love.
RGL logo was plastered on the helipad on the 77th floor of the building, it was also plated in gold on the sign leading up to the 76th floor. It was a long way up, she had to get clearance to use the elevator, not to mention three security check stops along the way, because the entire 76th floor was solely used for Gabriel’s office.
When the elevator door opened, she was greeted by a voice from an internal speaker. A woman’s voice which sounded like a recorded message asking her to wait in the huge waiting room reeked of disinfectant combined with floral air freshener. It was an unfamiliar scent yet it smelled expensive.
As she sat on the extra large leather sofa, she noticed the cameras on every corner of the ceiling, they were moving. She was alone. She can hear the central air conditioning soft rumble in the ceiling, and her low breathing. The room was divided by a wall and an electric sliding door.
She thought she would be met by a group of people who work on that floor, or at least a secretary. There was no one there but her. She arrived 30 minutes early. Sitting in the silence of that room for almost thirty minutes felt like hours.
There was no magazine, no TV, no books, just a coffee machine and a water dispenser that made clicking sound every two minutes. The machines were very sophisticated; she wouldn’t know how to operate them.
At exactly 10. 00 AM, the door slid open.
“Your 10 o’clock appointment is due, you may enter through the door.” The same recorded voice announced.
She stood and walked through the door.
It was a hallway to another door, a huge wooden double door with a fingerprint scanner and electronic numbers pad beside it.
The sliding door behind her closed.
“Please put your right thumb on the scanner and state your name clearly in the speaker,” the recorded voice said.
“Jamie Knox,” she spoke as clearly as she could.
A red light scanned her thumb and recorded her voice. Within seconds, the picture of her ID showed on the small screen above the panel. She was in awe with the kind of technology he was using.
The double door clicked open, “Jamie Knox … you may enter through the door.”
She stepped into the room. The hairs on her arms stood up. It was colder than the previous one, and slightly darker. The walls were covered by wooden panels and paintings. The two large windows on either side of the room were lined with dark red blinds with a small opening.
The room was decorated with mahogany furnitures, two sets of heavy leather sofas on each end of the enormous office, the floor lined with persian carpet that looked too expensive to set her foot on. A faint smell of designer’s perfume filled the air. Cedarwood, or tobacco vanille, or somewhere in between, she hasn’t figured it out yet. Richard’s scent.
He stood facing the window on the left side of the room, right behind his carved wooden work desk. He was in a fitted dark blue suit, lined with black velvet collar and a nice white silk tie.
“Ms. Knox … please … have a seat,” his heavy voice welcomed her.
She gathered all the confidence she had in her and walked towards him. She reached out to shake his hand and pulled up a seat. There were two large monitors on his desk, they showed the images from the CCTV from all over the building, including the ones in the waiting room. He’d been watching her through the screens.
He sat on his high chair across from her, and rested his forearms on the desk. He put his palms together and looked straight in her eyes. “Let’s go into details, shall we?” he spared her the small talk.
She was relieved he didn’t mention anything about their little rendezvous at The Somerset Inn, she was starting to think he might not remember it at all.
Gabriel explained the guidelines of their work agreement, it was called as such because basically Jamie will be working for him in order to build the conservation she wanted for the turtles.
She won’t be getting any salary because the funds and facilities she will be getting are for the purpose of the program. But she was allowed to stay at the hotel for the period of the project and she was entitled to use all the hotel’s facilities for free including food and beverages. Anything outside the hotel, she must pay for herself.
She was allowed to continue her freelancing job as long as she did it within the perimeter of the hotel, meaning, she can work long distance through her laptop or the hotel’s business center.
She was not allowed to use hotel facilities for personal leisures, she cannot hold a party or invite guests to her room. All meetings should be done in the public area.
Gabriel had a folder in front of him which contained a ten page contract that he already signed. He pushed the folder to her, “Please take a look at it, and sign where my lawyer had marked on.”
She took the folder and saw the long pages, “Right now?”
He nodded, “We have time … just read through it, once you sign, I can get my people to start the paperwork and schedule the project to start immediately.”
She skimmed through the first page, “Immediately?”
“How’s next Monday sound? Unless you have other things you need to take care of before we start … the sooner the better,” he turned to his computer and started working on it.
She read the contract faster, there was nothing out of the ordinary about it, but next Monday sounded like a ruch. “It’s a one year program, I will have to move to Bhorma for a year … I need more time,” she said.
Gabriel drew a long breath, “Two weeks then, the second Monday … my crew will be ready by then, you being the team leader should too.”
She was half way through the fifth page, “Okay … two weeks sounds more reasonable.” She signed her initials on each page as required and tried to read the rest of the papers as fast as she could when her phone rang. She took the phone and put it on silent mode.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” he asked, still working on his computer.
“Just a little bit more, I’m almost done with the contract.”
“Good, don’t forget to sign on that last page,” he offered her a pen. It was a Cartier, a more suitable pen than the one she was using to sign on the last page.
She took it and signed. The contract looked fine.
Her phone was still vibrating on the desk, she put it in her bag.
“Please … you don’t have to reject a phone call on my account … now that we’ll be working together,” he said.
She hesitated at first, but then she took back her phone and answered.
“Hello?” her voice can be heard through his computer speaker.
She looked at him, he was looking at her.
“Hello?” she tried again. The same thing happened.
He was calling her from his computer. “Would you mind telling me … why you called me at 4 o’clock on Friday night … or Saturday morning to be precise … and hung up?” he asked in his usual expressionless face.