Ransom

MARISSA

Obviously, that approach didn’t work. The plan I was hatching now was more devious, but its chances of success were relatively high.

The one thing I knew about him for sure was that the man was the ultimate perfectionist about his work. If he started with these blueprints, which a quick peek confirmed he had, he wouldn’t start over.

What he was busy with would eventually become the perfect work for his client. Starting over wasn’t an option, because it was just right the way it was. Or it wouldn’t have been at all.

And that was where Plan B came in. Walking to his desk with as much confidence as I could muster, so I looked like I was exactly where I was supposed to be just in case someone came in to ask what I was doing in here, I carefully rolled up the blueprints and tucked them under my arm.

I carried them to my office, hid them safely away from potentially prying eyes and grabbed one of my sticky notes. After scribbling a quick message, I went back to his office and stuck