"Hello," I greet again, this time to a young blond gentleman sitting at a desk urgently ruffling through a stack of papers.
His eyes leisurely glide over my body before they settle on my face. Just as he is about to speak, we're interrupted by a profound voice across the room.
“I need that document now, Brandon.”
Brandon smiles a lopsided grin before his eyes shoot back down to the documents he was initially tousling through before I disturbed him. Enthusiasm beams out of him when he locates the item he is searching for. My eyes track him as he bolts to the other side of the room, where I spot a face I recognize. It is Ken from the Bureau wall.Oh, shit, I meant to say Alex.At least I didn’t call him Ken to his face. Imagine how embarrassing that would’ve been?
The room plunges into silence, amplifying my quiet giggles. I mask my laughter with an impromptu cough. My gesture doesn't fool Alex. His eyes narrow and his lips set in a hard line.
Great first impression, Isabelle, I chastise myself while making my way to the man glaring at me in disdain.
Alex's blue eyes study my body just like Brandon's did. Except when his eyes return to my face, he fails to smile brightly, making me falter in my step. Alex is just as pretty in person as his photo shows. His blond hair has every strand faultlessly placed, though it does look like he drags his fingers through it several times a day, giving it that sexed-up look. His eyes are light blue; his nose flawlessly straight. His cheeks are well-defined, and his jawline is razor sharp. He is preppy and pretty at the same time. I might have even said he was deliriously handsome if his eyes weren't narrowed into thin slits and planted on me. An angry scowl never looks good, no matter how gorgeous your face may be.
“Hi, I’m Isabelle Brahn, your new agent.” I present him my hand to shake.
“Michelle,” he screeches, making me jump in fright. “I thought I ordered a blonde?”
My bewildered eyes bounce between Alex and a middle-aged lady who has just joined our group. Apprehensively, I pull my hand away since my gesture of a handshake was not acknowledged. Michelle is also pretty, mid-forties, and has sandy blonde hair cut to sit just above her shoulders. She is wearing a pleated black pencil skirt and a pastel pink blouse.
“Does she look brunette to you?”
When Alex’s blue eyes snap to mine, I stand straighter and raise my shoulders high, remembering what my Uncle Tobias would always quote: “Don’t let them scare you. Never show your fear.”
“Umm, yes she does appear to be a brunette,” Michelle replies, shrugging.
"In the past two months have you ever seen him with a brunette?" Alex seeks Michelle's gaze, which has darted down to the floor.
“What does my hair color have to do with my placement?”
Alex's slit gaze rockets to mine. His pupils widen to the size of saucers as he gulps a ragged breath. "Isaac Holt fucks blondes; you're a brunette.”
"Excuse me," I hiss, my tone harsh.
Although I have unequivocal knowledge that what he says is untrue, my irritation outweighs my desire to dispute his allegation.
“I wasn’t brought here to sleep with Isaac Holt. I was brought here to help with your investigation.”
“You were brought here as eye candy,” Alex interjects rudely.
The room no longer bustles with activity. Instead, they keenly watch the altercation between Alex and me. I’m so astonished at his disrespect, I can’t form any words to express my outrage. I didn’t train at the academy for years to become a piece of eye candy. I trained for years to become an agent. A good agent, just like my Uncle Tobias.
“We could bleach her hair,” suggests Brandon.
“Not happening,” I disrupt sternly.
When I cross my arms in front of my chest, Brandon and Alex’s eyes dart down to my breasts. A snarl forms on my top lip. Alex’s scowl remains stagnant as his eyes once again appraise my body. This time, when his eyes lift, I don’t miss the flicker of lust he fails to conceal with his gaze.
“Once you're in a dress and a pair of stilettos, Isaac won’t care you're a brunette,” he utters, snarling.
“Once you have a personality transplant and a plastic groin inserted nobody will care you're a Ken doll.”
When chuckles erupt around the room, it dawns on me that I said my last statement louder than I'd initially planned.
Alex's lowered gaze darts around the room, forcing the diminutive office space to once again bustle with activity. Once everyone's focus is no longer on us, Alex walks over to me. He is a few inches taller than my five-foot-seven-inch height and looks down on me since my boots have no heels.
“I know who your Uncle was; I know his reputation, but you need to learn your place. You were only brought here as a distraction for Isaac. He never lets anyone in, and you’re supposed to be our way in,” he informs me, glaring into my eyes.
I swallow harshly but maintain a strong stance, not once backing down or showing my fear. I plan to make my Uncle Tobias proud, but I can’t do that and lose my morals at the same time.
