A moment later, Jase hurried over and shook the other man’s hand. When Dracule’s guest offered Jase cash, Jase refused the money and whispered a reply. The guest shoved the money back into his pocket and the three men walked in the direction of the unmarked suite. As Alex had predicted, Jase tapped his card over the sensor, pushed open the door, and gestured for them to step inside. He followed and closed the door behindhim.
Crockett wasn’t sure what was considerednormalbehavior at an erotic club, but he had to agree with Alex. He couldn’t think of a legitimate reason for Jase to join them. If those two men were going to be intimate, they didn’t need the GM tucking them intobed.
Several moments later, Jase rounded the corner, coming from the opposite direction, and disappeared into his office.She’s right. He’s up tosomething.
Exhaustion settled on him. He needed sleep, preferably with a leggy brunette wrapped around him. He punched the elevator button, the doors slid open and he got in. As they closed, a thin, masked woman, with her arm in a sling, appeared. Assuming she wanted to get in, he stabbed the open button, but too late. “Sorry,” he said to noone.
As he drove out of the parking garage, he blurted, “Oh, Jesus, that wasSage.”
19
The Interview
Crockett could not geta damned break. Decker’s analysis of Maverick’s rogue Eagle concluded a non-specific one-time anomaly. AKA: Inconclusive findings. Crockett didn’t buy that load of crap. On a resounding grunt, he smacked his laptopshut.
Decker startled, but kept staring out the window of Crockett’s seventh floor corner office. “Pretty much everyone is staring at their phones. It’s a wonder they all don’t get hit by abus.”
Crockett joined him at the window. Snarled traffic moved in tight bundles from light to light while throngs of bundled pedestrians skittered beneath a graysky.
Things didn’t come easily for Crockett, but that never slowed him down. He’d dig deeper, concentrate harder, revisit and reexamine problems until he got to the root of the issue. He’d burn the midnight oil and work weekends. And he believed the pulse of his success came from collaboration. That was how Crockett Wilde rolled and nothing would change that; not even the recent equipmentfailures.
But now wasn’t the time to get into the details of the report with Decker. That conversation would result in a heated stalemate. Alexandra was interviewing members of his team for her tech story and he wanted to ensure his most valued employee had a good attitude. No need to piss Decker off, especially since he was against the interview in the firstplace.
“Alexandra Reed is due here any minute,” Crockettsaid.
“Yeah, I saw your email,” Decker replied. “Not loving yourdecision.”
“We won a contest. Time to put on our game faces and show the viewers a few gadgets they’ll think are cool. Ten minutes after the program airs, people will forget about it. If we refuse, the media will hound us because they’ll think we’re hidingsomething.”
“Wearehiding things,” Deckersaid.
“Right, but we don’t want to draw attention to that,especiallynow. If a reporter—and that includes Alexandra Reed—finds out about our device failures, we’ve got a whole new set of problems. Maverick is loyal. Charlie Bowen from DHS is staying quiet for now. If word gets out, we aren’t the only ones the media will hound. Let’s do the feel-good interview and moveon.”
“Got it,” Decker said, but his curt tone belied his answer. “What tables do you wantcovered?”
“All but the NVGs. Take out two of the original mini-drones and set those on the same table. Can you stay in the lab withthem?”
“Noproblem.”
Crockett’s intercom buzzed. “Yes.”
“Are you in there?” Ellen asked. “Never mind. You answered. Sorry, I’m a little out ofsorts.”
“What’swrong?”
“I’m not comfortable in front of the camera. Ms. Reed is here. Do you want meto—”
“I’ll handleit.”
“Yes, sir.” The line wentdead.
“I’ll cover the tables.” Decker trottedout.
While Ellen could have escorted Alexandra and her team into the lab, he needed to see her, even if just for amoment.
When he’d gotten home the previous evening, she’d already crashed on his sofa. This morning she’d left for work before he had a chance to tell her about Dracule and Sage. He needed her in his bed, his arms, and his life. Not on his damnedsofa.
As Crockett powered down the hall, his heartbeat kicked up. As he entered reception, she turned to greet him. Her beauty and confidence sent energy pinging through him. Though she’d stepped onto his turf, she commanded the space. She might be his Goth Girl, but the journalist standing tall before him carried herself with confidence and grace.A classact.
