Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4)(65)

Whatever the case, the two of us make a beeline for my office, where Kyle unlocks the door, flips on the light and does a quick scan before he allows me to enter. The instant I’m inside, I cross to my desk, feeling a punch in my chest at the sight of my mother’s photos. I settle my purse in my desk, unsurprised when Kyle shuts the door, sets his MacBook on the conference table, and removes his scanner from his jacket. Also unsurprising, by the time I’ve pulled my sketchpad out, flipped through my presentation for today, and looked back up, that he’s already found a recorder by the Keurig and destroyed it.

There’s a knock on the door, and he immediately returns the scanner to his jacket pocket and walks to the door, opening it, his big body blocking me from seeing my visitor. “The bodyguard is back,” a female voice I recognize as Barbara’s says. “And he even answers doors.”

“But I don’t make coffee for anyone but myself,” he says, stepping back to allow her to enter. “Don’t ask.” He delivers this with such a dry, flat tone that I’m not sure if he’s joking or serious.

And from the look on Barbara’s face when she enters the room, and her awkward reply of “I…of course not,” I am pretty sure she isn’t either, especially when Kyle actually walks to the Keurig and inserts a pod, proving he knows how to take his comment, and his cold, hard-to-read bodyguard routine to perfect extremes.

“Good morning,” I greet her, pulling her attention back to me, and noting how lovely she looks in a baby blue sheath, with her sleek gray hair piled on top of her head.

She seems to shake herself into action, walking to my desk. “What is his deal?” she whispers, as if he can’t hear her.

“Robot,” I say, as she perches on the edge of one of my visitor’s chairs. “It’s the only explanation I have for that man.”

She laughs good-naturedly. “I do believe you’re right. He’s a robot. That explains so much.”

“He,” Kyle says, “is still in the room, and not going anywhere.” He sits down at the conference table and opens his MacBook. “And I’m not programmed to refrain from commenting should this conversation continue.”

We both laugh, and then Barbara looks at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes warm with fondness that has me deciding she’s quite taken by Kyle, which can only work in our favor. I hope. “I’m not staying anyway,” Barbara replies, focusing on me. “I just wanted to give you a heads up that I’m going to have the model agencies send you spec sheets this morning and I’m hopeful you pick some models you want to see this afternoon.”

“Actually,” I say, deciding not to ask but rather tell her what’s going to happen. “I don’t want models. We don’t need them and they’re expensive and high maintenance anyway.”

She looks dumbfounded. “But the campaigns.”

“I have a solution I am quite pleased with,” I reply, showing her my sketches, to which she gives a critical inspection before her expression lights up.

“I’m blown away,” she says. “I love the concept of “We design. You make the style.” Everyone is going to love it. I’ll get with the art departments at the magazines right now, and find out what we need to do.”

“I still have a few ideas I want to elaborate on,” I say. “I need to finish these sketches.”

“I’ll have the appropriate people work through it with you,” she says, standing, “and really, this is a load off. We can focus on other things now. I’ll be in touch in a few.” She turns to leave, but Kyle stops her progress.

“Before you leave,” he says, drawing her attention and mine, since I have no idea what he’s about to say. “There’s going to be a security team coming in late this evening to install a new system and cameras,” he continues, clearly intent on giving his team full access to the building and being prepared for whatever comes our way. “I’m asking them to complete the task after hours as to not disrupt your work, but if you could make sure all appropriate people know as to not be concerned.”

“Of course,” Barbara says, her tone saying that her mind is clearly elsewhere at this point. “We appreciate the extra protection.” She’s gone by the time she’s spoken the words, leaving Kyle and I alone.

I grin and pick up my sketches, pointing to them, and feeling quite proud of myself for my morning success. No models. No more victims. Kyle winks, his eyes alight with understanding and support, and as I walk to the Keurig, I have this sense in that moment of really not being alone anymore. Unbidden though, when I reach for one of the chocolate coffee pods Michael had arranged for me, I hear his voice. Does it please you? The photo shoot comes to my mind, and I toss the pod in the trash, walk back to my desk, and reach for my sketchpad, pretending to work to hide my reaction from Kyle, who I can’t tell about this. He won’t want me to do it. I know he won’t, but if I refuse, there will be consequences none of us want to pay.





***





The day ends without a photographer or any contact to explain why, but that is not unlike Michael when he travels. His unpredictability is part of what makes him elusive to his enemies and the authorities. Kyle and Blake are determined to change that, though, planning a virtual hack party tonight, delayed by the need to keep my routine looking “normal” if anything about this life could be called such a thing. The instant we arrive in our room, Kyle and I change into workout clothes and head to the gym, even bypassing a scan of the room.