CORBIN
I waited. The quiet sounds of the building made it possible for me to hear the ding of the elevator. Once Hazel and her peach-smelling shampoo were out of my vicinity, I shot a quick text to Drake.
CORBIN: Follow her.
I didn’t trust anyone from All American Bank, and I especially didn’t trust Hazel Webb. Not in this scenario. How convenient for her to show up now. It was as if someone plucked her from the sky and dropped her on my doorstep as the perfect distraction. She checked every single box on my list of what I wanted in a woman appearance wise. Someone at All American Bank did their homework.
Too convenient.
So convenient that if someone wanted to take me down—say in retaliation for turning away a huge contract for her employer—Hazel Webb was the perfect person to guarantee my demise.
She had to go.