Celeste sighed, drifting farther into the room. She leaned against the butcher block countertop and stared up at the ceiling instead of meeting my eyes. “Things are getting weird for Abi,” she confessed as she put my phone on the counter. “She told me that she’s called out of work sick twice because our manager, Kevin Jones, keeps asking her for information.”
“About you?”
Celeste shook her head, tucking a strand of dark, silky hair behind her ear before finally looking at me. “No,” she said quietly. “He’s actually been asking about you. Or, rather, ‘Mr. Nix’.” She frowned. “He did come out with us to the Level 8 Lounge to celebrate my last day, but…did you even meet him?”
I scowled. “I didn't.” Abi was the only one of Celeste’s co-workers I’d spoken with.
“That’s what I thought. Maybe
