The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(42)
Size aside, something about Hillary looks familiar to me. I can’t put my finger on it, though. I wonder how old she is. Twenty-four? Twenty-five? It wouldn’t be gentlemanly to ask. She could easily be older than she looks; it’s one of the benefits of being that size. As I focus on her features, I become certain that this is the first time we’ve met, and yet there’s something nagging at my brain.
“So what was that thing Bill alluded to? The vegan thing?” I ask when I feel like I’ve shared enough of my life, and it’s only courteous to learn a bit about her.
She grins. “Oh, he’s blaming me for the rise of vegetarianism and veganism in New York. He thinks that just because I’m a vegan, I go around nudging people to follow in my footsteps.”
“Wow. I’m still not used to thinking this way. Can you actually do that? Guide a meat-eater to go vegan?” I ask, impressed by the very idea of it.
“I can, and maybe I have strategically done that with the biggest trendsetters upon occasion,” she admits. “But my humble efforts are not the sole reason why things are moving in that direction in New York—and other places, for that matter. People are just becoming more aware of the impact of their diet on the environment, of animal suffering associated with it all, and, of course, the one that matters to them most: their health. With the spread of books such as The China Study—”
“Hillary, we’re trying to make a good impression here, and your propaganda will not help in that goal. I have to borrow Darren, if you don’t mind,” Liz says, startling me by appearing right next to me seemingly out of nowhere.
Hillary opens her mouth, looking like she’s about to object. Before she can say anything, however, Liz grabs me by the elbow and drags me to the other side of the room.
Chapter 20
“I didn’t need to be saved. I was actually quite enjoying Hillary’s company,” I say to Liz as we walk away.
“Oh, good,” Liz says with relief. “That girl can be insufferable. Still, I want you to meet Thomas right now. Then you’ll be able to go back and finish your conversation.”
We approach a sharply dressed guy who’s about my height. He’s a bit broader in the shoulders than I am, which is something I don’t see often. He’s also muscular. Not steroid-big like Caleb, but he clearly works out regularly, like I try to do.
“Thomas, I want you to meet Darren,” Liz says, giving the guy a thorough kiss on the lips. The kiss part is really odd. Didn’t she say earlier he was a patient of hers, like me? I catch myself before I get more bothered by it. It’s not like I’m jealous. Okay, fine, maybe a tiny bit jealous. Thinking that a woman like Liz was interested in me had been a pleasant fantasy—and helpful for my self-esteem.
“It’s great to meet you, Darren.” Thomas shakes my hand with one of those excessively firm handshakes that I’m used to getting from men in finance.
As we shake hands, I realize that he seems to be part Asian. What makes this stand out is the fact that everyone else in this room is white. And now that I think about it, all the Readers I’ve met were also white. I guess it makes sense when you consider both of the groups’ histories. After all, they—or we—began from a cult that did that whole selective breeding thing somewhere in Europe, according to what I’ve learned from Liz. Thomas’s origins must be a bit different. It proves what Liz told me: that this group of Guides will welcome you regardless of your lineage, so long as you are somehow a Guide. I wonder if this means they would be okay with whatever I am. I’m not going to risk them finding out, of course, but their attitude does give me hope.
“Good to meet you too, Thomas,” I say, realizing I’m staring at the guy.
He doesn’t seem bothered by my staring at all. He’s just standing there, looking at me, seemingly comfortable with the silence.
“So Liz told me that somebody’s trying to kill you,” he says casually after a moment. “She said that this person is one of us, a Guide.”
“Yes, unfortunately, that’s the case,” I say, almost defensively. The way he emphasized the word Guide made it sound like he was skeptical.
“Can you tell me exactly what you told her?” he asks calmly. “Liz didn’t give me many details because of the doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Liz startles me by saying, and walks away. I was so lost in my thoughts that I’d almost forgotten she was still there. I note Thomas following the sway of her hips with a very non-doctor-patient look and file it away as curious, but unimportant for the moment.
When he turns his attention back to me, I repeat the story I told Liz.
As I go through it, Thomas asks me a bunch of pointed questions. He’s obviously familiar with the investigative process, perhaps from his Secret Service job. Had I not grown up telling lies to my mom Lucy, the detective, I might’ve been in trouble. As it is, I’m not sure if he completely believes me. My mom probably wouldn’t have. Unlike her, though, he doesn’t know my ‘tells.’ I hope.
“I find it hard to believe one of us would do such a thing,” he says when I’m done explaining about the attempted killing. “But in any case, you did the right thing, getting a hotel room. I would also suggest ditching your phone and getting another one, and maybe getting out of town for a bit while I look into this.”