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Lexi
Idon’t want any reminders about why I’ve ended up in this profession, and I’m certainly not unburdening myself to him. A man so cold the air freezes before him as he walks. It’s like minus 20 in here just by him being here and I wonder about the man who has nothing in his life except work.
He eats in silence and I expect that’s normal for him because I did my research and know he prefers to be alone. There are no past girlfriends, wives even. His family consists of two parents and two siblings who seem normal enough, which makes me wonder if he’s adopted or something because he looks nothing like his family. Nothing points to that and I’ve even seen his birth certificate but there’s something odd about him, mysterious even and he keeps his personality behind a closely guarded door.
I can feel him watching me and if anything, it makes me curious. He’s not interested in me in the usual sense, he told me as much and I respect that about him. But the guarded looks and interest in his expression betrays his words, and I expect it’s because of my chosen profession. I know it’s strange and yet it’s so natural to me I should worry about my sanity. I don’t live in the real world and I never have, so I kind of understand this man in his own choices and respect them as I hope he respects mine.
“So, what happens next?”
He says little, but I know his mind is working continuously and I shrug. “We try to figure out if there’s a hit on you. Head it off at the pass and see if the person responsible can shed any light on what’s been happening.”
“So, the person who targeted Lucas, what’s the story there?”
“The trail ran cold, and Lucas is trying to unravel any holes in his operation. It’s keeping him busy enough and you should do the same. Find out why the markets are turning against him. Who is whispering bad words in the investor’s ears? Is there anyone in your organization with an ax to grind, or is the cancer spreading through a different source? I suppose it will be like looking for a speck of dust in this whole apartment. You do have a problem, by the way.”
“In what way?”
He settles back and smirks slightly, and the arrogance of this man brings out the worst in me.
“It’s too clean, too impersonal and too sterile. You like everything in place revealing an OCD nature, then again, having met you that doesn’t surprise me.” I turn and wave at the mess in his kitchen. “You are probably freaking out right now because the sink is full of dirty dishes and I’m guessing if I spilled wine on the floor, you would have a panic attack.”
I dangle my glass precariously over the edge of the table and love how I’m right when he winces a little.
“You think?”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve been through every inch of this show palace while you were at work. The bottles in the bathroom have matching labels and are facing outward. The minimal number of groceries in the cupboard are stacked in order of size and guess what, the labels facing outward. The clothes in your closet are pressed and everything hangs in color and style and look brand new. Your bedding also looks new without a crease in sight and your towels the same. I tried to find a speck of dust but guess what, nothing, so I’m thinking either your cleaner is a psycho, or you are.”
“Guilty as charged.”
He raises his eyes and stares at me intensely, and for some reason it unnerves me a little. I can’t work Hunter Blake out. He’s emotionless, like a painting, a silent movie, an enigma. His personality is hidden somewhere deep inside, and he reveals only what he wants you to see. But why?
“So, tell me about your family.” I switch to a subject that may tell me a little more about him, and he shrugs.
“Nothing to tell.”
“I understand you go there once a month for lunch on a Sunday. Your mom wants to marry you off and your father works all the time. Your siblings seem normal enough but look nothing like you. Why is that?”
“You tell me, you appear to have all the answers and forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but none of this is necessary for the job you’re here to do.”
He pushes away his plate and says evenly. “So, Miss. Mackenzie—darling.” He raises his eyes. “Thanks for the meal, but I have work to do. I’m sure you can amuse yourself with more evaluations on my character while stalking me online, not forgetting the ammunition I have loaded onto the memory stick.”
He stands and I shrug. “Fine, but because I cooked, you clean. It’s only fair and unless you want to face this lot over breakfast, I’d get to it if I were you.”
“Nice try, Miss. Mackenzie but I couldn’t give a fuck about the dishes. You see, you think you have me all figured out. You congratulate yourself on knowing my weakness and are using against me. Well, newsflash, darling, I have a housekeeper for all that, so nice try but I really should be getting back to what I love the most, my own company. Have a nice night, call me if anything comes up.”
He turns to leave and I stand and say quickly, “I’ll come with you.”
“To my den, I think not.”
“No, to your office, in the city. I need to check it out when no one’s around.”
“Why?”
I roll my eyes. “Because I want to check out your laugh a minute assistant and it’s best I don’t start rifling through her drawers and tapping on her computer while she’s there. You get your wish to work a little harder and I get to do what I’m paid for - protecting your sorry ass.”
