The sudden insertion of his fifty-dollar word almost threw her off. It didn’t suit him. Max made a quick recovery with a knowing smile. “You catch my drift.”
“I like your style.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hackett.”
“Please, call me Remy. This isn’t a formal workplace.” He smiled.
She wasn’t charmed. Max moved to her main interview objective. “I have to admit the circumstances are...unusual.”
“You probably feel awkward.” Remy stopped, sniffed the air like a dog on the hunt. “You don’t smoke, do you?”
“No.” Cameron. She should have known he wouldn’t allow her to do this alone.
“We don’t smoke inside Hackett’s.” Remy made it sound like it was a rule of his instead of the law.
Which was, of course, why she’d seen five guys smoking outside the roll-up door in back when she’d driven around the building. Max wondered how much more she’d learn if she took up smoking.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Max smiled, nodding agreement.
“Back to Wendy’s story. It’s tragic. We knew something was wrong the minute she was late. She often got here at five in the morning to stay on top of the job. But she was never late.”
Five in the morning? Now that was weird. “She might have been sick.”
“If she was ill, she always called before seven in the morning.”
“A good employee.”
“Exemplary.” There he went, popping a word in that didn’t fit the rest of his speech. “And I knew she was upset about something when she left the night before, really upset.”
“But you didn’t know what?”
Watch it, baby, don’t sound like a cop. Don’t make it seem that important to you.
But Remy didn’t seem to find the question too probing. “Wendy was a quiet person.”
Cameron was right, in asking too much, she might lose everything. Max backed off, saving the rest of her questions for another, more opportune time. Besides, at this point, she’d learn the most by listening. “I’m very sorry.”
“Thank you. I’ll miss that girl. She was my right-hand man around here. She did everything. You might even say Hackett’s would have fallen apart without Wendy. I don’t quite know how we’ll replace her.”
Oddly, Max believed every word Remy Hackett said. He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, fingers laced, index finger tapping his lips. He seemed to have forgotten she was in the room.
Then he sat back abruptly, resuming the original position, hands folded over his paunch. “You’ll have to forgive me.” He was all business again. “About the job. I still haven’t found out who called your agency. But I will.” His lips tightened, whitened, then relaxed. “But it was...” He circled his hand in the air as if searching for a word. “Fortuitous,” he finally found. An appropriate word, but again, somehow out of place for him. “You’ve impressed me. Sunny Wright faxed me the rate sheet along with your resume, and I’d like to try it out if you’re willing. But first I need to know if you’d consider making this permanent?”
“Permanent?” The word sent a trickle of fear skipping down her spine. She didn’t do permanent. Max took a deep breath. She was okay, just playing a role. “Well...if everything worked out, if we all got along...”
“We?”
“You. Me. The rest of your staff.”
His folded hands tensed on his stomach. “I make the decisions around here.”
Yes, he would. She had a feeling he’d crush anyone who thought too much on their own.
“So, what do you say, Max? If you and I like each other, we’ll do temp-to-perm?” He beamed. Boy, that man could beam. It was a sight to behold. A display of his salesman personality. His mustache lifted, his teeth gleamed, even his brown eyes sort of smiled.
Now that the initial rush of permanency fear was over, Max didn’t hesitate. “Okay, Remy.”
“Wendy had a set of keys. Unfortunately, they haven’t been...returned to me.” With just the right amount of discomfort, he looked down, around the room, anywhere but at Max. The man was concerned, upset. Or putting on a darn good act. “We’ll get another set. Now, we do have a few rules around here I’d like to go over.”
“Should I get out a notepad?”’
He laughed. Max laughed with him. “They’re easy,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll remember, and if you don’t, I’m always here to remind you.”
“Shoot.” Don’t give him any invitations. Max smiled and let Remy Hackett think she smiled at him instead of Cameron’s not so subtle reminder of why she was in Remy’s office.
Remy held up the index finger of his right hand, and she felt it like a jab to her nose. Deep on the inside, Max cringed. Remy had done an awful lot of finger-jabbing at Wendy.
“First,” he enunciated with a harsh bite. “Lunches are half an hour. That’s the law. I’m not about to get reamed by the state again. If you come back early, don’t bother clocking in until the half hour’s up.”
She felt her jaw drop. “You want me to clock?”
“Everybody clocks.”
Max blinked. She’d never had a job ruled by the time clock. “I can handle that.”