Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4)(24)

“Alvarez Clothing now has offices with a warehouse, business office, and a retail location, inside a high end shopping area. From tomorrow forward, that will be where I work, but we don’t open to the public for a month.”

“Located where?”

“About a mile away,” I say, and then recite the address.

“I know that area,” he confirms, “but I’m going to want to go check it out in advance. Is there a set time that you need to be there?”

“Nine for sure. I have meetings with the design manager and then models coming for interviews at ten.”

He removes his phone from his pocket and punches in a number before I hear, “I need access to the facility where Myla will be working tomorrow.” A pause. “Tonight.” Another pause. “I really don’t give a shit. I’m protecting her. I also need an emailed list of every staff member who works for the place.” A beat and then, “Just use the email we’ve communicated on in the past.” A pause, and then, “I’ll be waiting.” He ends the call and immediately focuses on me. “Do you know any of the staff you are working with?”

“I’ve been dealing with a handful of them by phone for a few months.”

“I need you to write down their names and everything you know about them.”

“Of course,” I say, grabbing my sketch pad from where it’s resting on the coffee table and flipping it open to one of my favorite formal dress designs. The idea of seeing it come to life tomorrow comes with mixed emotions. I start to flip the page when Kyle reaches over and stops me, his gaze surveying the pencil sketch of a beautiful woman with long, striking hair, wearing my dress, before he looks at me again.

“Did you draw this?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say. “I need to envision a person wearing the garment I’m designing.”

“Your artistic skill is incredible. You’re gifted.”

“Oh I…thank you. Actually, a big thank you. Compliments are welcome tonight. The people I’m working with tomorrow have worked with some powerful people in the fashion industry, and I have done nothing before this.”

“Surely if they didn’t believe in your work, they wouldn’t be working for you.”

“They work for Michael,” I correct, “and we both know he makes things financially advantageous for people to take a job.”

“But anyone as experienced as you say these people are would have a reputation to maintain,” he argues. “They must like your work.”

“I’d like to think they do,” I say, appreciating the vote of confidence, which he doesn’t have to give me, more than he can know.

“Will your name be on the labels at all?”

“No, but that’s okay,” I say, and before I can explain why, he’s already rejected my answer.

“It’s not okay.”

“It is,” I assure him, and not because this is Michael’s decision. “Designing someone else’s brand is how a lot of people get started and honestly, they get credit. For instance, Marc Jacobs is renowned for his work at Louis Vuitton.”

“Louis Vuitton is not even close to the same as a Michael Alvarez label, for reasons we’ll leave unspoken, and I’ll leave it at that for the moment.”

“For the moment? If you have something to say, then say it.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you on my first night here.”

“I don’t get overwhelmed easily,” I assure him, “and frankly, I’d rather have you speak just as freely.”

He does one of those several second, intense stares, and then asks, “Your sister’s FBI. Your father was FBI.”

“And you want to know how I ended up with Michael Alvarez?”

“Yes, but we both know your frank conversation isn’t going to be frank on that topic, and you’ve already given me an answer.”

“That you don’t like.”

“That I don’t accept, but like I said, we’ll leave it alone tonight. I want to know about you and your design work. How did it become your passion?”

My gaze narrows on him. “Do you really still know nothing about me or are you just trying to see what I will tell you?”

“What you tell me is what I’m interested in.”

“So you do know things about me now?”

“Yes. I know many things about you, Myla, but what I don’t know is the person beyond the statistics and history.”

“You don’t need to know those things to protect me,” I argue.

“You’d be surprised how knowing you helps me protect you.”

“Aren’t you supposed to keep a professional distance?”

“What I’m supposed to do is keep you safe,” he says, “and you’re about to be working in the fashion world, where I’m going to be shadowing you and protecting you. That means every single person around you influences you, and your actions, in some way. Knowing your history helps me predict your actions and reactions to situations around you.”

Predicting my actions and reactions isn’t exactly what I want anyone doing right now, but it’s clear he’s going to keep pushing for an answer. “I don’t talk about me,” I say. “I don’t talk about my past.”