of compatibility makes my mind spin. Maybe there is a reason to stay here after all …
CHAPTER THREE
- Lilibeth
Pulling up to my old office the morning after my sleepover with Eva brings back all the frustration I felt before my transfer. I’d worked here two years before requesting an upgrade. All I wanted the entire time here was a promotion. During those two years, I had outstanding work records, both in performance and dedication. I can’t even remember ever taking a day off.
When I was offered a new position, complete with a new title and fifty percent more pay, I jumped at the opportunity. However, I didn’t take into consideration that they could transfer me anywhere when I said yes, which led to me moving to Ísafjörður.
Rural and sparsely populated is a description that barely does the place justice. Thankfully, it was a temporary position, not lasting longer than a year while I filled in for someone on maternity leave. Looking on the bright side, I did make a friend for life. Kristin kept me sane, that’s for sure.
Now, I’m swimming back into the belly of the whale. The familiar bustling office surrounds me after I go through the prerequisite human resources bullshit and work my way to my former—and now again—boss’ desk. I see another familiar face on the way. His receptionist, Freyja, stands, waving at me. “Lilibeth! Hey, I heard you’d be back today. That’s so great!”
“Oh, hey, Freyja. It’s super to see a familiar face. Is Aron available?” Spinning in a circle, I look for his overweight ass. He’s the police commissioner, and the reason I ended up snowballed into the last job. Even though I swore to myself I won’t hold it against him, now that I’m here, I can tell it’s going to be work to maintain that promise to myself.
I know, I know. All’s well that ends well, but fuck, he’s an asshole. An asshole I know hates me just as much as I hate him. The thin veil of disgust we have for each other was clear to everyone in the office.
Scrunching up her face, Freyja stands, glancing over her shoulder to the back wall where the interrogation rooms are. Technically, we call them conference rooms, but when you have observation windows with one-way glass on two walls and cameras set up on the side walls in a practically closet-sized area, they’re really interrogation rooms.
“He’s in a meeting.” Her voice drops as she leans forward, waving me into the space behind her desk. “It’s the talk of the office. The guy who’s been coming around is incredible looking—”
“Freyja!” I’m just about to sink into the chair when I hear the voice that still haunts my nightmares. “Is that Lilibeth?”
Freyja’s eyes widen as she looks at me before standing up straight and swinging around to answer Aron. “Yes.” She points, giving me an apologetic look when she faces my direction. “She’s right here!”
“Send her over.”
I only catch a glimpse of his rotund body before he swings back into the conference room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Great! I’m off to a super start.
“They’re in three …” Freyja’s voice trails off behind me as I walk away, telling myself it’s better to just get this over with. I didn’t leave on the best terms, but it’s been a year. He always knew I’d be back since the assignment was temporary.
It wasn’t really that bad … just cold and boring. And slow. And lonely until I became friends with Kristin.
Tapping on the door lightly, I don’t wait for anyone to open it since I was invited. But when I swing the door open, Aron is right behind it, reaching for the knob. “Ah. There she is.” Sweeping his arm toward the rectangular table, I see a man and a woman sitting there. Freyja must have been talking about this man, and she wasn’t exaggerating.
Dark hair and light eyes. Striking. And the woman is just as attractive. Dark hair is layered around her face. She smiles tightly as I step forward and hold out my hand.
I know it’s silly, but I always introduce myself to the women in a group first. As far as I’m concerned, they’re the real workers. Iceland may tout itself as a true feminist leader among countries, but I beg to differ.
“Hello, I’m Lilibeth Egilsdóttir.”
“Alisha.” Her deadpan voice catches me off guard, especially when she doesn’t give me a last name, but when the man stands next to her, I’m taken aback