Fisher DuPont practically punched open the black plastic door that led into the kitchens.
Keep it together, he told himself again. He’d been reciting it the whole way down from the fifteenth floor. He’d donned these ill-fitting clothes and practically shaved his head in an attempt to keep his identity hidden from the staff. He wanted to operate on the ground floor of Sweet Breeze, find out how the systems worked—if they were even working—and what the staff thought needed to be improved.
Keep it together“Do we really just go into rooms with the orders?” he asked the head concierge, Kepa, on room service, only a slight growl to his words.
Kepa, much shorter than Fisher’s six-foot-five frame, stared up at him. “Who told you that?”
Fisher pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to say, b
