Death Layer (The Depraved Club) Read Online Free Page B

importantly, our confidentiality clause. Look them
over in detail, please. If you can agree to the terms and would like to accept
the position, please let us know within 24 hours. I’d like to start you
Monday.”
    You can start me anytime , I think.
    I clear my throat and summon every ounce of professionalism
I have. “Yes sir, I will absolutely take a good hard look and get back to you
as soon as possible. Thank you very much for the offer, I very much appreciate
it.”
    “Well done, Clark. Speak soon.”
    Click. He’s gone.
    I accidentally let out a “Whoop!” into the close confines of
the elevator. But then I groan and bite my lip, thinking. Do I want this job?
It all feels…fast— Odd .
    I nervously swipe through some buttons on my phone screen
and see he wasn’t kidding; there’s already an email from Amanda Johnson.
Shocked, I reach trembling fingers to massage my temples and open the
attachments, briefly scanning over the massive confidentiality clause and
chuckling to myself. It’s intimidating.
    This Mr. King guy sure is a sexy, thoroughly paranoid son of
a gun.
    Part of my brain feels like taking a full-time job is giving
up on music, and yet, the boss is hot and the money is so great. Besides, I am
desperate. Those student loans won’t pay off themselves, and Rachel is right; I
might like having a salary.
    Like a real person.
    I shove my phone back in my purse, brain whirring, and
remember that I am in an elevator. Looking around, I see Peterson, Walker and
the elevator attendant are staring at me. Peterson looks like she might cry.
    Yeah. Not awkward. Not awkward at all.
     

 
    Chapter Four
     
     
    On Monday I enter the lobby of 2211 Wall Street with my head
held high. I’ve borrowed Rachel’s light gray Daine Von Fastenberg pantsuit and
Cole Haan pumps. My hair is piled in a neat bun, and I even straightened my
bangs. To celebrate the new job and placate my quirky artsy side, I’m wearing
the bright teal J-Crew necklace I bought with my credit card, just for a pop of
color in an otherwise monochrome world.
    I almost look like I belong here.
    Gerard is waiting to greet me next to the security station.
I even catch a ghost of a grin on his thin freckled face.
    “Good morning, Miss Clark. Since we have received and filed
your signed contract and confidentiality agreement, I can officially welcome
you to Skollz Corp.”
    “Thank you and good morning, mister…?”
    “Jones. Gerard Jones, Administrative Coordinator.” We shake
hands. “I will be overseeing your training today. We’ll try to make it as quick
and painless as possible.”
    “That seems to be a theme.”
    He definitely smiles this time. “Yes. We always strive for
efficiency in pursuit of change, creating the future. You’ll find we are a
lean, mean corporate machine.”
    “My favorite kind.”
    “Mine too.”
    I follow him into the elevator bank, but this time we go
down. The basement level is white and expansive, like an underground warehouse.
I could see a high-fashion photo-shoot going on down here, or a black market.
Gerard leads me to the far side of the wide, open space and swipes a security
pass over an automated lock, opening a door to a short hallway. Inside, people
wearing bluetooths and tasers are bustling between rooms packed with video
monitors and radio noise.
    It’s like the goddamn Matrix.
    In one of the rooms we pass I glimpse a pair of German
Shepherds sniffing a large stack of boxes and can’t help smiling. I love dogs.
One of them sees me and comes over, sniffing, and lets me pet its ears.
    Gerard notices. “They’re working dogs,” he explains. “Since
9/11 we’ve added twelve canine teams and the same x-ray technology you see at
airports. Everyone who enters the building automatically receives a full-body
scan at the door. Mr. King himself ordered the technology installed and
sometimes personally reviews the image streams. He’s a bit of a security
stickler.”
    “Sounds like it,” I say,