The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(155)

The man directly across from me at the far end of the conference table looks remarkably like someone you'd find on the Abercrombie and Fitch shopping bag that holds your most recent in-store purchase. At six-foot-one and two hundred pounds, his purpose in this office varies with each given assignment, but more often than not requires the sporting of some type of uniform... military or otherwise.

Directly to his left sits a tall and strikingly exquisite Asian woman whose stone-cold exterior is nothing short of impenetrable. Not surprisingly, it is that very same enchanting indifference that helplessly seduces the people chosen to make her acquaintance.

And finally, to my right is an elegant and breathtakingly sexy young brunette who, with the just the right wardrobe selection, can effortlessly catch the eye of almost any man in any room. Although little of her free time is spent researching these wardrobe selections and more of it is spent rewiring portable computers and various electronic devices like the one she holds in her hand right now. She and I both know, however, that it is this specific skill, and not her fashion sense, that is most applicable to the conversations she has on a weekly basis.

And although every single one of my associates is important to this organization, the woman on my right is the only one in the room with whom I share a more personal connection.

Because not only did she have a direct influence on my decision to start this organization in the first place, she also conducted a very personal favor on my behalf.

Six months ago this woman walked into a crowded Chicago bar full of drunk male doctors celebrating their last day of a three-year residency and struck up a conversation with one of particular interest. After a short exchange, however, and to the blatant disapproval of his drinking companions, the man kindly excused himself from the conversation, stating that he was, in fact, engaged to someone else.

In other words, this woman is the reason my best friend is getting married to a doctor named Eric in six months.

And for that she will always be more than just an employee.

As I sit down in my chair, she takes the small silver-and-black device in her hands and slides it over to me. "I configured your new iPhone. You shouldn't have any problem accessing your e-mail. If you want me to show you how to use it later, I will."

I thank her, taking special care to address her by her code name, as no one uses their real name while in this room or while working in association with this room.

Lauren Ireland selected her own alias upon joining my staff, as did everyone else.

I open the glossy crimson folders in front of me, one by one, and begin to review their contents: an overly flirtatious real-estate agent in San Diego; a bored housewife in Dallas; a suspicious bachelor party celebration in Las Vegas. And countless more arriving every week. Almost too many to accommodate.

While unique in their origins, each of these folders contains a very familiar request for something universally acknowledged to be invaluable: the truth.

I distribute each of these fidelity files to the staff member most capable of handling the request inside.

Although I have experienced several changes in my life over the past six months, the most significant change came in the form of a discovery. A realization. That peace of mind can come in many forms. And more important, with the help of many different people.

And so now, with my conference room full of willing and capable associates, each in possession of at least one unique and distinguishing "power," one highly classified, secret identity, and a closet full of appropriate costume selections, I have finally discovered what it takes to change the world – without ever having to personally step foot in another strange hotel room.

Well... almost never.





Acknowledgments


Last night while I was watching the Academy Awards and listening to all the Gucci-and Versace-clad winners thank their moms, dads, spouses, agents, makeup artists, and one-eyed cats, I was suddenly reminded (because of all the gratitude expressed, not because I also have a one-eyed cat) that I hadn't yet written the acknowledgments page for The Fidelity Files.

And yes, writing a novel is not exactly the same thing as winning an Academy Award. For one, I don't own a dress that wasn't made by H&M. And Ryan Seacrest has yet to show any interest in interviewing me. But as you'll see from the next few pages, there are still just as many people to thank. The only difference is I get to do it in my pajamas without the threat of the annoying music that plays when my time is up. Of course, you can always just close the book to shut me up, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. And since this is my first book, I pretty much have to thank everyone I know, because, honestly, there's a good chance that the people I leave out this time won't go out and buy the second book.

So this is the moment when those of you who don't know me and, frankly, don't care who I express my gratitude to can respectfully bow out, turn the page, and continue on with your lives.

First and foremost, I want to thank Laura and Michael Brody. My inspirations, my living heroes, my biggest supporters...oh, and they're also my parents. Without whom I wouldn't be here today... literally.

Thank you, Mom, for raising me with that "Free to Be You and Me" mentality and for letting me pour the milk into my cereal all by myself. I think we both know that little ounce of freedom is eventually what gave me the courage to become a writer.

And thank you, Dad, for bestowing upon me the "writer's bug" and for being my very first editor, for reading and rereading every single three-hundred-page draft (and we both know there were quite a few). I know how tired of this story you must be by now, and for that reason, I'm not going to let you read this page until the book comes out. How excited you'll be to have something new to read! The only downside is I won't be able to incorporate any of your one-liners.