Chance received a text message from Lola later that morning, at exactly eight o'clock, stating that he would be waiting for him in front of the building at nine.
Even though he had gone to bed late, Chance was up and ready to go by six. He had spent the bulk of the last two hours going through his closet and rearranging everything in it. He was about halfway done sorting his suit jackets when he got Lola's message.
After sending a short reply, Chance fixed himself a quick breakfast, grabbed the envelope with the information for his car, and then headed down to the lobby to meet Lola.
It was just past eighty thirty when he made it to the ground floor. Lola was already there. He was leaning against the car and watching for Chance. As soon as he saw Chance step off the elevator, Lola opened the rear passenger door so he could get in.
As he passed by the older man, wasn't sure how to greet him. "Good morning, um, what should I call you?"
"Good morning to you as well Mr. Addison. You can call me whatever you please. Miss Foster calls me Lola and Mr. Griffin calls me Jack."
"Do you have a preference? What did Mack use to address you?"
"I do not have any preference concerning my name. Both Jack and Lola are my given names, neither is wrong to use. Mr. Lovewell usually called me Lola. Occasionally he would call me Jack."
"I'll stick with Lola then." Lola nodded and Chance proceeded to slide into the car.
A short while later, Chance was once again behind his desk at Lovewell Publishing. Standing on the opposite side of the desk and glaring at him was an extremely unhappy little woman.
"Addison, what did we talk about last night?" She asked coldly.
"I believe we talked about locating my stolen car." He decided to play dumb.
"After that." She tapped her foot impatiently.
"Hmmm," He pretended to think really hard about their conversation. "You told me that you live on the other side of town... Oh, and you told me Lola would pick me up this morning."
"Safety, Addison. We talked about safety. Your safety." She was practically growling at him.
"And here I am, safe and sound." Her reactions were increasingly entertaining. He started to wonder how far he could push her.
"Then where did you get this?" She pointed at the vehicle title he had placed in front of her.
"Internet?" He offered with a shrug.
"You're telling me you got an authentic government issued title, complete with embossed seal and security ink, overnight, from the internet?"
"Not buying it, huh?"
"Not even for a second." Fait crossed her arms and increased the pressure behind her stare. She refused to back down until he admitted that he went out, on his own, last night.
He knew telling the whole truth was not an option. He also knew that he took a huge risk by going out alone. It was possible he was putting Nev in danger too. But, he wanted that car back, his car. While a drink wasn't worth his life, that old Camaro... maybe.
It could also be said that going to a secretive facility that was almost always deserted was, in his opinion, much safer than going somewhere like a bar.
Of course, there was no way he could tell her any of this. The only remaining options were to lie, which he kind of sucked at, or to just sit there and listen until she gave up. He chose the latter.
Chance had to admit, it was nice to be scolded. It proved that, no matter what her motives were, she cared about what happened to him. It gave him a kind of warm fuzzy feeling.
He rested his chin in his hand and smiled softly as she continued to rant.
"... are you even listening to me? What are you smiling at?" She scowled at him.
"Thanks."
"For what?" She asked the question before she could stop herself.
"The lecture. It was very... enlightening."
Her eyes widened and her ears turned red in an instant. Fait let out a "hmph," picked up the title, and left.
She leaned against the door after she closed it and stared at the title. "Foolish." She shook her head in disbelief and went back to her desk.
Meanwhile, still smiling, Chance picked up the information for the anniversary celebration and continued reading from where he left off yesterday.
Instead of just hosting a fancy gala or networking style party for the rich, Mack had wanted it to be more like a convention. This way they could show off their authors, sell some books and other merchandise, and invite the public. There would still be networking opportunities and side events, but that wouldn't be the main focus.
It was an ingenious way to promote Lovewell Publishing and it would set them up to continue to run an event annually.