Chapter 167
She was probably giving Hogan a heads–up not to stick his nose into my business.
Hogan gently patted Cecilia’s hand, seemingly to calm her, then stood up and said seriously, “It wasn’t Ms. March. At the time the janitor mentioned, I was discussing work with Ms. March at the hotel.”
As soon as he said this, the expressions on everyone’s faces were all over the map, with a few murmurs of pity here and there.
Makes sense, though. Cecilia, his main squeeze, was right there, and Hogan was straight–up telling everyone he was at the hotel late at night talking shop with me. Wasn’t that just asking for people to get the wrong idea?
Smart guy like Hogan, no way he didn’t get that. But why on earth would he drop a bombshell like that to get me out of a tight spot in front of everyone?
Get me out of a tight spot? Nah, Hogan was not the type to play the hero without a
reason.
“Mr. Zade, I know you and Ms. March are tight,” Shirley’s brows were all knotted up, “but this is no joking matter.”
Shirley shot a glance my way and said, “Talking work, and it has to be at the hotel late at night? Ms. March sure knows how to pick her moments.”
With that snide tone, Shirley was this close to accusing me in front of everyone of fooling around with someone else’s man.
And then there was Cecilia, looking all droopy–faced, eyes downcast, lips bitten, the very picture of someone who’s been wronged.
“President Stapleton, if I were you, I’d put on my thinking cap,” Hogan piped up again, his slender index finger tapping at his temple, “and really ponder who’s got nothing better to do than to play this kind of prank on you.”
Shirley was suddenly at a loss for words, stuttering “Of course I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Next thing I know, I hear Sean’s voice boom out, “Spill it. If you don’t come clean with everyone today, do you think I won’t have someone rip out your tongue?”
Scared out of her wits by this threat, the janitor dropped to her knees with a thud, blurting out in a panic, “I’ll tell, I’ll tell everything!”
11:01
Chapter 167
According to the janitor, she found a letter in her locker yesterday afternoon instructing her to pass a message to Shirley and to fake it as if it came from me.
Oh, and there was a photo of me in the letter.
A candid shot from a regular workday.
At that moment, my heart sank to the ocean floor.
A candid workday shot, how could anyone have that unless they knew me well?
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