Code Name: Genesis (Jameson Force Security #1)(9)
The room itself is barren other than the table and chairs, the only warmth coming from the three large arched windows that run floor to ceiling. The outside is so coated with dust and dirt I can’t see what’s on the other side, but they’re beautiful, nonetheless.
“If these are your offices, how come you’ve only restored this floor and by the looks of it, the ones above?” I ask Kynan curiously.
“Have a seat,” Kynan says, pointing specifically to a chair. I take it, and he sits two down from me at the end of the table, a position of authority. I get the distinct impression he wants to talk now. But thankfully, he appeases my inquisitiveness first. “These offices are sort of ‘off the books’. It’s where our more covert type of operations will be based from, which includes top-secret government work. It’s not open to the general public or even potential visiting customers. Only employees of Jameson. I’d like to keep up the appearance this is just an abandoned old building.”
“What’s above us?” I ask, since he’s in a sharing mood.
“Third floor is all tech and weapons support, including a soundproof shooting range. Fourth floor is going to be communal space… kitchen, gym, living room, theater, and dining room.”
“Communal space?”
“For any agents who want to live here. We’re also upfitting five personal apartments on the fourth floor. Call it a perk of the job.”
“Will you be living here?”
“Yeah,” he says, then shakes his head with exasperation. “As soon as they’re ready to move in.”
I have many more questions, mostly dealing with what type of operations he could possibly be doing that would require such a set up and secrecy on top of that. It fascinates me wondering what this man has made for himself. But I also know it’s none of my business, and I doubt he’s willing to indulge me.
So I merely fold my hands in my lap, letting my silence indicate he now has the floor for whatever we need to discuss.
“You and I are going to head out tomorrow morning for your house in California. We’ve got a stop to make along the way, but I need you to arrange to have your mom and whatever publicist you use—or whoever else is on your team these days—ready to meet with us early the day after.”
My chin lifts. “My mom isn’t managing me anymore.”
Kynan blinks in surprise. “Since when?”
“For a long time,” I murmur. “She’s actually back in Cunningham Falls, married to a rancher.”
Kynan just stares as he digests this, and I get why it’s surprising to him. My mom, Madeline Meyers, was my manager when Kynan and I first met years ago. She’s actually my stepmom but having raised me since I was six meant she was always just my mom. The woman who gave birth to me died in childbirth, so I don’t remember her.
Why it’s probably surprising was Madeline Meyers sole purpose in life was to make her daughter rich and famous. She was like a pit bull with my career, using a heavy hand to direct and control me at all times. Only after I’d met Kynan was I able to get a little of that control back, but that was rather short-lived. My mom never liked Kynan. She felt he was a distraction, which was why she’d had a tough time hiding her gloating smile when I found out he cheated on me. She so enjoyed showing me the picture of Kynan and another woman.
It was crushing being shown the man I had fallen in love with was seeing another woman behind my back. I couldn’t defend against the physical evidence she showed me, and it made it extremely easy to run from Kynan. I cleanly broke things off, choosing not to confront him on his treachery. After a simple phone call to him, I merely ran off with my mom to Hollywood where I could start my career in earnest, without the distraction of young love.
“Do you have a manager? Publicist?” Kynan asks, and I jolt back to the present, ignoring the nauseated feeling produced by thinking about the comprehensive investigative report my mom gave me about Kynan. She’d hired someone to check him out. To tail him and make sure he was good enough for her daughter.
Turns out… he wasn’t.
Strangely, twelve years later, I find myself without anger because I don’t have room for it. I guess the passage of time makes it so I just don’t care anymore about why Kynan would do that to me. Besides… I chose to leave without asking him those questions. It would serve no purpose now. On top of that, I’m terrified I’ll be killed by some stalker and Kynan is my sole means of hope I’ll get through this. I can’t waste my energies on wondering about my past with him. I have to worry about my future and staying alive now.
I finally respond to his original question. “I have a manager and a publicist. You want them both there?”
“Yes,” he replies, drumming his fingers on the table. “I want to discuss the best way to reveal us as a couple to the media. I’m thinking an engagement will do the most to piss your stalker off, but we’ll have to massage a cover story since this is coming out of the blue. I suggest we stick as close to the truth as possible… that we’ve known each other for years and have reconnected. Sound okay?”
The thickness in my throat prevents me from answering right away. It got clogged with emotion when he said “engagement” since I’d once dreamed about having that with Kynan. I thought we’d be together forever, which meant getting married and having babies one day.