The bus stop Marshal moves in my direction. Her leather bag brushes my side as she walks by. There is something hard inside that bag. I’m pretty sure I can guess what it is.
“Watch it!” I snap, stepping away from the woman, trying to get some distance between us, and hoping she only hears the annoyance I am trying to convey and not the fear pounding in my heart.
“Sorry,” the woman murmurs. She doesn’t bother to look at me. Instead, her eyes stay focused on Rose and Mrs. Webster who are stepping up on the sidewalk on this side of the street.
Fingers shaking, I type the message THEY’RE HERE on my phone, but stop myself from sending it because the Marshal behind her has moved. Now he can see over her shoulder. They move toward the entrance to join the rest of the Gloss employees heading back to work. I can only watch helplessly as that Marshal and another who appears beside him follow Rose and her mother into the building. The Marshals are not in the reception area when I finally make it through the door. And I don’t see them in the hallway as I head back to work or in any of the nearby cubicles. Mrs. Webster’s office is on the second floor. Maybe—
“You—intern!”
I turn and see my new boss, Nicolle, standing in the aisle between a bunch of cubicles. She points behind her and sighs. “Design room is this way.”
“Right.” I turn my back on the stairs and follow Nicolle into the design room. The screens are now filled with images of page design options for the next Gloss issue. Once again, I am told to sit in the corner while the others work on making the interior page design reflect the new logo and color scheme.
After about ten minutes, Nicolle declares everyone useless. She tells the team to go celebrate the launch of the campaign and to expect to work late every day until the new issue is put to bed. No one reminds Nicolle that it is already past time to leave as they gather their things. While they head out, I look around the workroom for an excuse to stay.
“I can take the coffee mugs back to the break room.” I jump up and start gathering the mismatched ceramic mugs that haphazardly decorate the tables in the room.
Nicolle places her hands on her hips. “Do you think cleaning coffee mugs is going to impress anyone?”
“Not if they like drinking coffee out of dirty cups.”
She stares at me, her eyes hard and narrow behind the large frames. I stand perfectly still hoping she cannot see how desperate I am to stay. Mrs. Webster said she could deal with the Marshals, but if she and Rose are in trouble, I have to try to help them.
Finally, Nicolle nods. Her lips twitch. “You have a point. Clean up. Don’t touch anything you shouldn’t or I’ll know. Be here early tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day.” With that she heads back into her adjoining office and shuts the door.
Juggling six mugs, I hurry to the break room. Some people are cleaning up their desks or calling for friends to meet them for drinks. Others are hunched over computer screens or tablets—clearly planning to work into the evening hours.
I wash and put away the mugs in record time and go back into the hall. No Nicolle. My heart hammers as I head up the steps and I hold my breath as I slowly open the door and step onto the second floor of the Gloss offices.
The offices and cubes are bigger on this level. I can see the outlines of people moving around behind opaque glass and hear the low murmur of voices as I take slow steps down the royal-blue carpeted aisle. Mrs. Webster’s office takes up the back corner of the floor. I am almost to the door when someone touches my arm.
I jump, and swallow down my yelp as I face the woman whose large brown leather bag bumped me out on the sidewalk. Standing beside her is a tall, lanky man in a blue button-down dress shirt. I don’t have to look to know what shoes he is wearing.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” the Marshal offers with a quick smile. “We got turned around. We’re looking for Chris Tapper’s office. Can you direct us?”
“Chris Tapper?” I repeat the familiar name and look down the hall toward Mrs. Webster’s office.
“You seem kind of jumpy,” the man says. My heart goes still under the man’s piercing gaze. “Is there a reason you’re nervous?”
Only dozens of them.
“Today is my first day working at Gloss,” I say, hoping they won’t question that truth. “I’m an intern.”
The two exchange a look as Rose steps out of an office and into view far down the hall behind them.
“I’m sorry we startled you,” the female Marshal says with a toothy smile. “I hope you enjoy working here.”
Rose takes a step toward us and begins to gesture—clearly wanting to know if I need help—as the Marshals begin to turn.
“He’s not here!”
The Marshals’ heads swivel in my direction before they can see Rose and make the connection between the two of us.
“Excuse me?” the woman asks.
“You said you were looking for Chris Tapper,” I say. “He doesn’t work here.”
“You started today and you know everyone in the building?” the male Marshal asks, taking a terrifying step closer.
“I wish.” I force a laugh that sounds stupid even to me as Rose ducks back into the doorway she came out of. “Everyone was talking about him because he came up with the new logo that debuted today—just before he moved.”
“Did anyone say where he went to?” the woman asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Just that he got a new job.” Hopefully, my story will help confirm the cover Mrs. Webster created.
The two exchange another look before the man says, “Well, that’s too bad. We really wanted to talk to him. We appreciate your help.”
This time when they turn away, I don’t stop them. I don’t move. Not when they step into the stairwell and the door closes behind them. It isn’t until an older woman I recognize as one of the Gloss editors emerges from her office and smiles as she passes that I finally head down the hallway to the door Rose disappeared behind.
“Holy crap,” Rose says when I close the door behind me. “Mom is meeting with two Marshals and some guy from the City Pride Department right now in her office. I didn’t realize there were others walking around.”
“Do you know what they’re saying to your mom? Are they going to make her change the logo back?”
“Not unless they want people to ask why the government insisted the design be changed,” Rose says with a smile. “Dozens of people have called Mom to compliment the new logo since the meeting started. Mom’s secretary has been interrupting with an update on the number of congratulatory messages every few minutes. Some of the messages Mom arranged in advance so she could demonstrate that the design has already made an impression. The rest are unsolicited. Most from high-profile people in the industry.”
As long as they believe the documentation Mrs. Webster has about the designer and that she has no knowledge of the Stewards, it will be impossible for the government to justify asking her to change the logo back without drawing even more attention to the design—and the change.
“I’m going to meet Dad tonight and drop how strange it was for government people to meet with Mom after the reveal.”
Rose and her mother were certain Mr. Webster would use his influence to get the Marshals to back off—if only because family scrutiny would continue to make him look bad after Isaac being taken. If Mrs. Webster’s correct, those things combined should keep her and Rose and the rest of the Gloss staff safe—but for how long, it’s impossible to say.