The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug

phone with more buttons than NASA control and a leather-bound book were the only occupants.
    “Sierra,” Garner addressed the woman who personified my vision of the naughty librarian. Her glasses feathered out at the sides and her tight and fuzzy ice blue sweater enhanced her boobs, which were as big as mine, but much more perky. I wished I could ask her where she purchased her underwire bras. She glanced at Garner and held up a well-manicured finger while she finished her typing.
    “How are you, Alan?” Her low, husky voice sounded too intimate for the professional setting. Sierra rose from her chair and glided around the desk. Her black pencil skirt cut off just above her knee but seemed indecent as it clung to her flesh. Garner swallowed audibly, but Richard still appeared bored. Definitely gay.
    “I wanted to introduce Ms. Sampson and her associate, Mr. Head.” Props to Garner for not choking on the name. He was obviously more mature than yours truly.
    “They’re part of the new cleaning service.”
    A light went on behind Sierra’s eyes, making her all the more resplendent. “Excellent, I’ll just go notify Mr. Valentino and we’ll check his schedule….” She hustled behind the desk and Garner and I watched, each in our own stupor, him being lust-struck and me fighting panic. I did not want an encounter with Valentino when I was so close to my goal. His inner sanctum lay just beyond the frosted paned double doors and I scrambled for an out.
    “No need to bother him, he’s a busy man, I’m sure.” I stammered. Not to mention a cold fish. Who goes into work after his wife has disappeared?
    Sierra smiled at me like I’d just won brownie points. “Oh, Mr. V insists on meeting any new team member, even the cleaning staff. We’re all like family here, you see.”
    Garner nodded as if his head was on a spring. “Family, that’s right.”
    Frigging great, family wages.
    Sierra spoke into a small device, which I presumed was an intercom. “When you have a moment Mr. Valentino—”
    “Be right out,” Came the clipped reply.
    Surreptitiously, I shuffled back so I was partially obscured behind Richard and stared at the double doors.
    “How’s your daughter, Sierra?” Garner filled the quiet.
    “Zoe’s doing well, thank you Allan. She’s been asking after you.” Sierra focused on me. “Allan volunteers as the community soccer coach, he’s wonderful with the kids.”
    Garner blushed and mumbled what I presumed to be a thank you and lapsed into silence again.
    “Now who do we have here?” Valentino boomed from the now open doors.
    “Margaret Sampson and her associate, Richard Head, our new cleaning service.” Garner said, his tone implying that he’d escort us from the building at Valentino’s command. Clearly, Valentino took great pains to approve anyone who had access to his building.
    “Pleased to meet you,” I mumbled, just as Richard sprang to life.
    “Oh, Mr. Valentino, it’s an honor, sir.” He reached his hand forward and shook with fervor.
    “Er…yes. A pleasure.” Valentino dropped Richard’s hand and glanced at me. Force of will alone let my gaze meet his. No hint of recognition lit in his eyes and he turned away almost immediately. “Well, I have something of a personal matter to attend to so if you’ll excuse me...?”
    He pivoted and said something low to Sierra and I silently prayed it wasn’t a get this woman out of my building order. Striding back through the double doors, and pulling on a wool overcoat was the work of moments and my pulse throbbed in my eardrums while mutely watching.
    “Be sure to dust the wires attached to the computers. The last service was sloppy about it.”
    I started breathing again as the elevator doors swallowed him.

    * * * *
    “Absolutely not,” Richard stared at me like I had a dust rag nestled between my ears. “How can you even suggest that?”
    “For the love of grief, Richard, what did you expect?” I snapped on my rubber scowering gloves and propped the bathroom door open with a full bucket of water. We’d been in the building for ten of the longest minutes of my life. Richard was a whiner and a complainer to the nth degree and it was all I could do not to club him with my mop. “Haven’t you ever cleaned a bathroom before?” I asked, figuring it was a rhetorical question. My jaw hung open when he glanced away. “You haven’t, have you?”
    Richard puffed up like a blowfish under siege. “Mother takes care of