by Michael Todd
“Yeah, like I’ll let you do this on your own.” She smirked as she chewed a strip of bacon. “But I wanted it to be on the record that I actually tried to be the voice of reason around here for a change. Now that it is, let’s go find us a Pita plant or three so we can wreck this bitch’s ass.”
“Figuratively speaking,” Sal said with a grin while he made himself an egg and bacon sandwich. “I hope.”
She was about to open her mouth when Amanda entered. The woman looked like she’d worked on the security system outside all night and grease, dust, and grime covered almost every inch of her body. She was deeply engaged in a conversation, except there was nobody around to be engaged with.
“The…AI, remember?” Madigan said when she figured it out first. “Connie?”
“Yeah.” Sal said and looked dismayed. It was still an intriguing conversation, even though they only heard the one side of it.
“I know sixty-nine isn’t fucking online,” the armorer shouted and waved her hands in the air. “I did that on purpose, you useless machine. Why? Oh, you want to know why? Because I’m sick of hearing your ridiculous jokes about it, that’s why. It’s the same reason why I didn’t turn sixty-eight on either. Yeah, I’ve heard all the fucking jokes, and I’m tired of them.”
Amanda paused in her argument as she poured what might easily have been her tenth mug of coffee, all of which had given her a jittery temper. She didn’t seem to notice the others staring at her as she turned away to head out to work once more. “Oh, great, with the knock-knock jokes now, how fucking… Oh, that’s actually a good…and then you went and ruined it. God damn it, Connie, you sex-crazy bitch. Do not make me turn your voice function off again.”
“I think she needs some sleep,” Sal said finally and sipped his coffee cautiously.
“Nope. I think she needs to get laid,” Madigan contested. “Have you noticed how well she and Anja are getting along lately?”
“Don’t start playing matchmaker,” he warned. “That never ends well for anyone. If they’re interested, they’ll figure it out. In the words of my own personal hero in science, life…uh…finds a way.”
Courtney was tired of paperwork. She wasn’t sure why, but the day before, she’d found herself daydreaming blissfully of being back in the middle of the Zoo. There, she’d hunt down monsters and riches of all kinds with Madigan and Sal and whoever the new people on the team were.
The truth was that she had begun to admire her dad. The man had run this place like a machine for over a decade, and from the look of the meticulous paperwork he’d left behind, he’d had no assistant to help him keep on top of things like hers did for her.
Robinson had been almost a saint over the past couple of weeks and helped her get into the swing of things without actually pushing her into it. She was in a leadership role in a Fortune Five-Hundred company, and it was time that she acted the part. The board didn’t appreciate loafers and people who didn’t pull their weight, so if she wanted to use her influence as the majority shareholder of the company, she needed to make some appearances and shake some hands.
As it turned out, she began to do a lot more than that. She found she didn’t mind digging through all her father’s old research to find some rhyme and reason why he’d opened and maintained the research and development section of the company funded with government money. So far, he’d researched a wide variety of things but not focused on anything in particular. Even stranger, the only kind of source she could find for all the different studies was…well, her.
The man had followed her published works like he was a fan, picked them apart, examined the various theories she speculated on, and worked hard to prove them. She apparently had him to thank for keeping most of her research alive. And, unlike before, she didn’t feel like she lived off his name but rather that, even though she hadn’t known it and they were thousands of miles apart, they’d worked together as a team.
One of the most interesting things she noticed was that he’d started an investigation of a piece of metal that had been removed from the Zoo. It had been a government option that he’d picked up which required research into the various mineral aspects of a piece of metal that had been dug out of a place that had previously held no mineral value.
As she looked over his notes, it was hard to keep the tears that welled in her eyes from streaming out. He’d tried to develop a new kind of armor, lighter and more versatile, that allowed for better protection for the people who went into the Zoo on a regular basis.
He’d called it the Ceecee Project in his notes.
She smiled and wiped away the tears that escaped. The project had been put on indefinite hold, she saw, with the case file number of a litigation attached. She made a note of the number so that she could look into it later. Any enthusiasm she might have felt earlier had dissipated and she needed a drink.
Courtney pushed away from her desk and stretched luxuriously before she strode to the door of her office. When she opened it, Robinson sat at his desk, deeply engrossed in a couple of files that she didn’t doubt would be on her desk the next day.
“I’m calling it early today, Robinson,” she said with a smile. “It’s been a long day and I’m not feeling great.”
He looked up, a pen lodged in his mouth, and tried to speak around it. His effort produced nothing that could be deciphered as anything but grunts so he removed the pen and nodded. “Well, feel better, Dr. Monroe. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course,” she said and crossed leisurely toward the elevator. She couldn’t promise that she would be any use to him or anybody, but she would be there.
Covington hated these little parties. It was supposed to be for some charity or another but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember which one. She looked around at all the pink ribbons included in the decor. It was, she thought, probably something about breast cancer. But the reality was that it was simply people begging for money in the best way possible, by stroking the ego—and anything else—of the richest people in town until they coughed up for the ten thousand dollars a plate setting. Their so-called charitable contributions allowed the who’s who to show all the other socialites in town how socially active they were.
But she had to be there. One of the few downsides of having a title in name only in her company was that she had to make appearances for little events such as these. They were a pitiful bore that required her to clap politely as speech after speech interrupted the arrival of sub-par food and ludicrous amounts of alcohol.
Well, it wasn’t quite as torturous as all that, she mused and forced a smile on her face as one more speech came to an end. This one had thanked the year-long contributions of some benefactor who had their name put on a clinic somewhere in Florida.
“Andressa,” a familiar voice said. She turned to the man beside her. The suit itself should have been all she really needed to see—no bright colors, only a dull gray that served to emphasize the salt-and-pepper good looks of the man who wore it. She wasn’t sure who the man’s tailors were, but she had to compliment them on their work.
“Carlson,” she said and extended her hand. “I had no idea you’d be here tonight.”
“I make a point to help out where I can,” Carlson replied with a gleaming smile. “My…second wife had a problem with breast cancer, so she reduces my alimony payments for each contribution I make here. It’s not fair, but at least this way, I get a free dinner out of it, right?”
“Free?” Andressa asked, tilting her head. “I had to drop ten thousand for my plate here.”
“Your company will cover that cost, I expect.” Carlson took her offered hand and raised it smoothly to his lips.
In any other life, she would have been one of possibly hundreds of women who would lay everything on the table to have a night out with a man as rich and good-looking as him. He was stunning, but there was a side to him that made those good looks seem cloying. It reminded her of the way her mouth felt when she had too much honey and the taste turn
ed bland.
She kept her smile in place, however. “What’s the point of being an inactive vice president of butt-fucking nothing if you can’t toss those motherfuckers some bills to pay for me, right?” Andressa asked and noted with a small amount of pleasure how some of the more conservative characters present seemed shocked by her foul language. Let them be shocked and clutch their pearls. See if she gave a damn.
“I couldn’t have voiced it better myself,” he responded and his voice dropped to a whisper as yet another speaker took to the podium and droned into the microphone.
“I take it that my last delivery was acceptable?” she said, her voice hushed to match his. She still needed to make nice with her real boss, and using the cover of a disgruntled, foul-mouthed employee did wonders to make sure that the wagging tongues only stuck to how she’d used the f-word in an inappropriate manner. Twice!
“More than acceptable.” He leaned in closer. “It almost makes up for you fucking up the Monroe situation.”
Andressa looked at him and kept her smile intact while she pictured slashing his throat with the expensive silverware.
“You told me to only use local talent,” she replied easily but her smile began to feel brittle and strained. “Are you really surprised that they ended up losing their ground against someone who’s been trained and gained experience in one of the most dangerous places on the planet?”
“A good craftsman never blames his tools,” he retorted.
“That’s some primo fortune cookie wisdom, Carlson. Have you considered using it for yourself?”
“Point taken,” he conceded like some magnanimous overlord condescending to acknowledge a peasant. “Rodrigo tells me you made some demands of him.”
“And he’ll be paid very well for his efforts,” Andressa muttered. “And it seems, from what he told me, that I’m doing your work for you. Apparently, you tried to eliminate these very same people not that long ago.”
“Great minds think alike, Andressa.” He pushed from his seat as the speech came to an end and everyone clapped. “Let’s see if you can succeed where I’ve failed. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“I will,” Andressa said. “Asshole,” she added as he moved out of earshot. She slumped a little in her seat and gestured for one of the waiters with a wine bottle to refill her glass.
Chapter Twelve
Courtney rubbed her eyes as she leaned back in her seat. She’d left the office with alcohol on her mind but she wasn’t in the mood to go to a bar to be hit on by the lamest hopefuls Los Angeles had to offer. Instead, she chose a classier establishment, a smaller but very elegant cigar room that provided all kinds of drinks and even had a modest menu for the discerning customer. It had the feel of a family-owned restaurant while it was classy enough for someone with a hefty checkbook to not feel like they were slumming it.
She ordered the cod that they’d added to the menu paired with some white wine and a chocolate lava cake for dessert.
Even she had to admit that being rich had its perks. She would probably get bored and find something to complain about before too long. Inevitably, she would wish for the Zoo later tonight, but for now, as she enjoyed the light yet satisfying meal, she felt… Well, not quite happy, but at least content.
It was easy to understand why her father frequented the place. She’d found business-related receipts charged to the company, which showed that he came often to wine and dine his business partners. It was logical that he came in his off hours too and she could see why. The pleasant, roomy atmosphere paired well with smooth jazz that played through the smaller speakers hidden around the room. That, added to the excellent, if limited, stock of food and drink, made it a great place to relax if you had the money for it and nobody waiting for you at home.
Which he hadn’t, she mused and rubbed gently at her cheek.
“Hey.” She looked up, a little startled, as Robinson sat opposite her at her table.
“What are you doing here?” Courtney asked and tried to keep her voice pleasant. “And how did you find me?”
“All the corporate phones have GPS tracking turned on,” he said in an off-hand manner and shook his head. “And you’re still carrying yours around, even if you refuse to use it.”
“That’s not creepy at all.” She tugged the damn thing from her purse and scowled at it.
“Sorry.” He looked chagrined. “You seemed like you could use some company when you left early. I still had some work to finish up, but when I did, I came to see if I could find you. Do you feel like talking about it?”
She sighed and leaned back in her seat. “Don’t take this as an invitation to invade on my privacy anytime, but yeah, I think I could use someone to talk to tonight.”
Robinson nodded and smiled.
“Do you want something to drink?” Courtney asked as a way to delay actually talking about what had made her feel down all evening.
“Some coffee,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t drink that much anymore.”
She waved one of the waiters over and in a minute, he returned with a cup of rich, dark coffee and various small porcelain containers with milk and sugar to be added to taste.
Robinson took neither and smiled as he sipped the beverage.
“That’s some good Joe,” he said and looked impressed.
“It should be.” She laughed. “It doesn’t have a price on the menu.”
“My guess is that doesn’t mean it’s free,” he said. “So…why did you take an early day? I don’t mean to pry or anything, but…well, if you need to talk about something, I’m your guy.”
She smiled sadly. “I…saw how much my dad actually cared about me. He was never that great at being a dad in the traditional sense. All my life, he was a scientist who always put his work first and family life second, but my mother didn’t give a rat’s ass, so he… Well, he did his best, even if it wasn’t that great. But as I look over what he did with the research, I see that while he wasn’t great at showing how much he cared for me the way most dads do, he…still found a way to show it in a way that I can appreciate now, as a scientist.”
Her companion smiled, leaned back in his seat, and placed his cup down on the saucer. “It must be nice to know that he cared that much about you.”
“I only wish I could have figured it out while he was still alive,” Courtney said and shook her head. “I mean, all the time that I was in the Zoo, all I could think about was how I’d been given the job there because of who my father was. Everything I did was a way to get out of his shadow. I realize it now, but while he might not have been the best father, I wasn’t exactly daughter of the year either, you know?”
Robinson leaned over and squeezed her arm gently.
“I know, I know.” She tried to control the waterworks she’d fought all evening. “Poor little rich girl with her rich girl problems.”
“If it helps, I’m a poor little rich boy with some rich boy problems.”
She laughed and used her napkin to dab the tears away so they wouldn’t ruin her makeup. “Yeah, well… If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that you don’t get mad or sad about something. You get even.”
“That sounds like terrible advice,” he said but his amusement was genuine. “Your father’s?”
“Hell no.” She waved to catch the waiter’s eye and gestured for the check. “A woman by the name of Madigan Kennedy taught me that, and I happen to think that it’s great advice. You don’t get anything when you simply lie around and wish things would get better. You make them better by kicking their ass and making them do your bidding.”
“Well, remember how nice I’ve been to you when you decide to take over the world,” he said as the check arrived. She paid it with a generous tip and smiled in response to the waiter’s gentle nod of thanks as she stood and they both started to the door.
They slipped outside and Courtney’s gaze immediately settled on a black SUV that had been parked around the corner. The windows were ti
nted, so she couldn’t see who was inside, but she did note how the engine turned over and the headlights came on the moment that she stepped out of the door. It crept forward slowly as they made their way to the edge of the sidewalk.
Clearly not professionals, she thought as she slowed her pace.
“What’s the matter?” Robinson asked when he noticed her suddenly go tense.
“Nothing,” she lied and noted how the SUV slowed to keep pace with her. He obviously didn’t believe her and his gaze followed hers to the vehicle.
“Should we go back inside?” He looked around. “Call the police?”
“Definitely call the police.” Courtney chuckled grimly. “It’s not like they’ll get here in time, but they always do appreciate a heads-up when they’ll have to process some idiots for attempted assault.”
He tensed, startled by the change that had come over her. Inside, she had looked vulnerable while she struggled to come to terms with her family issues. Now, she talked like she knew a thing or two about violence and the serving of it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know where that came from. Like everyone else in the company, he’d heard how she’d handled some home invaders a couple of days before she took her place in the office, but there was a difference between hearing about it and seeing it in action.
“And go inside?” he asked and gestured with his head to the other restaurants along the street.
“What would be the point?” She gripped his arm and dragged him along, away from the SUV. “They would merely follow us inside, and I’d rather keep the collateral damage to a minimum.”
“What about me?” he asked as they turned into a small alley behind the restaurant that they’d exited from. “Wouldn’t I be collateral damage too?” He quickly dialed nine-one-one and requested that the police come at their earliest convenience.