The Target by L.J. Sellers Page B

bring in a plant or maybe fresh flowers every day.
    Decker opened the door between their offices and stuck in her head. “Would you bring me some coffee from the break room? The good stuff. Then we have an employee meeting. After that, I’ll get you started on some data entry I need done.” Decker started to walk away, then turned back. “Impress me today.”
    Hardass.
“I will.” Coffee fetching and data entry. Oh boy. Good to see her college education and sniper training paying off. But she would enjoy the challenge, at least for a while. If she had to do the same thing every day for the rest of her life, she’d put her Glock to her head. Some people thrived on predictability. She wasn’t one of them.
    The employees gathered in the atrium outside the break room. The space had tables on both sides of a glass wall, with the patio being accessible through a locked door. She would have to remember to keep her badge with her if she ever stepped outside. Only one person approached and introduced himself.
    “Max Grissom, CEO. Thanks for joining us.” He was short, and because she wore heels, his eyes stared directly into her chest. He caught himself and looked up again. “I hope you find our gathering inspirational.” His face was pleasant, with a deep worry wrinkle on his forehead and a patch of dark pigment along one jawline.
    She would have to fake an interest in him to get close enough to access his texts and emails. “I’m excited to be here.”
    He touched her arm, then trotted to the glass wall that everyone was facing. Most of the employees were women between the ages of thirty and fifty, dressed in gray or black A-line skirts and jackets. Not one was smiling. Sales and marketing, she guessed. Two men in short-sleeved cotton shirts stood in the back, commenting in voices too low to understand.
    She stepped toward them. “What’s this about?”
    The guy next to her let out a little laugh. “You’ll see. I’m Eric. You must be Cheryl’s new assistant.”
    “Yes. Jace Hunter.”
    He shook her hand and introduced his pal, Nikola. She committed their names and faces to memory.
    “Good luck with Cheryl,” Eric leaned over and whispered. “She can be demanding. And you might as well know that Max Grissom will hit on you right away. Just tell him no. He won’t fire you.”
    “Thanks for the head’s up.”
    A moment later, the CEO’s voiced boomed, “Good morning! Let’s get physical!”
    A loud version of
Eye of the Tiger
blasted into the room. Grissom began a series of stretches and jumps, and the employees joined in.
    What the hell?
Was it mandatory? Dallas glanced at the other women in skirts and heels. They were participating, so she did too. The sales reps had to be making a damn good commission, or the job market was even worse than she’d heard. Cheryl Decker, in the front row, wore black pants and a white pullover shirt. Smart woman, but maybe she was the only one who could get away with wearing casual clothes. Her background file indicated that she didn’t socialize or meet with clients.
    After the physical routine, Grissom announced the week’s sales numbers—‌which everyone cheered. Then he burst into a pep talk, urging a better performance, stopping intermittently and calling, “Give me a ‘hell yeah’!”
    The employees raised their hands and gave it their best. Dallas was too stunned to do much but watch, wide-eyed. Was this typical in the medical device industry, or was Grissom an ambitious wingnut? She decided to focus her probe on him first, and she’d probably have to get cozy with his administrative assistant to gain access to his files. Thank goodness this wasn’t her real job. Even her love of acting couldn’t get her to embrace the drink-the-Kool-Aid crap.
    The cheerleading was abruptly over, and the employees quickly dispersed. Eric paused to caress her shoulder and say, “Let’s have lunch today, and I’ll give you survival pointers.”
    An opportunity to pump him