The team had a few minor tweaks to make, but overall, they were impressed by my performance. It took me over an hour to get everything just right, and I knew that would have to be factored in to my daily routine. I wasn’t used to spending so much time on myself. Normally, I liked to sleep as long as possible and walk out the door looking one step above awake. But this mission called for more than that.
Owen waited for me near the entrance of the transformation room. This time, he recognized me as soon as I approached him. “Joyce,” he said. “Where shall we tell our better halves we are this time?”
I swatted him, and he laughed as we walked to David’s makeshift office, which was really his quarters, spruced up with a laptop, portable file folder, and a giant monitor hanging on the wall that the rest of us didn’t have.
I knocked quietly, not wanting to wake him up. Even though I’d been up for almost two hours, it was still before sunrise. “Come in, Mackenzie.”
“Not Mackenzie. Joyce,” I said, closing the door quietly behind me, knowing Owen would wait for me on the other side, like he always did.
David sat on his bed, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, his computer on his lap. Of course I hadn’t woken him up. That would require him to stop working long enough to actually sleep. “Ah yes. You’ve done a good job learning how to apply all this.” He gestured vaguely at my overall appearance.
“Thanks.” I wasn’t sure if it was the compliment or the attention to the new me that made me uncomfortable, but I changed the subject. “Well, I’m off. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Actually, I feel pretty good. Don’t get me wrong, I’m terrified of the interview, jittery, and I know I’m bound to mess up about half a million times, but we’ll get through this. I know it.”
“Just don’t sass him, and you’ll do fine. I’m very proud of you, Mackenzie.”
“Thanks?” I phrased it like a question, not sure how to respond to such emotion from my boss. Yes, he was my father, but we didn’t usually do the father-daughter thing.
“You were born to do this. I have every confidence in you.”
In that moment, I knew he was right. I walked over to the bed, and we shook hands. It felt more natural than a hug. He turned our hands over, putting his other hand on top of mine.
“I know you won’t disappoint me,” he said, and I tensed up at the word, even though his tone was soft. “I know that because I’ve realized nothing you could do would disappoint me.”
Smiling, I wondered about the man sitting before me, and what our lives could’ve been like if we’d spent them together.
“We’ll talk soon,” I said as I let go of his hands—only then realizing how much warmth they’d imparted.
When I got to the door, he quietly said, “Good luck.”
I turned around in the doorway. “Thanks, Da—” But I still couldn’t do it. It felt too foreign on my tongue after all those years alone. “Thanks, David.”
Acting like he hadn’t noticed, he smiled warmly at me as I walked out.
By the time I met Owen in the hall, Rebecca was waiting with him.
“Hey stranger,” she said. I hadn’t had a chance to see her the night before, so this was her first introduction to Joyce.
“What do you think?” I asked and did a little twirl in the hallway.
“It sure is different. But you wouldn’t look unusual if I didn’t know how different this is for you. In fact, she’s quite striking.”
The three of us started walking out of the building together. “Well, I hope that’s a good thing,” I said, suddenly nervous about the mission as I got closer and closer to leaving my family behind. “I mean, do I want to be that noticeable? Memorable? Don’t I want to blend in?”
“In the high-powered business world, well-put-together women are a dime a dozen. You’ll be fine. So what’s your plan of attack? You have to absolutely nail this interview. I know we’re all hoping he’ll just give you the job on the spot, but that’s unlikely. Try to be calm and patient,” Rebecca said, getting right to the heart of things.
“What if I don’t get the job?” I asked.
Rebecca hesitated as we walked, and then shrugged. “Well, you’re sort of a chameleon. I suppose we can just bring you back here and remake you, then toss you back into the ring.”
Her response made me stand up a little taller. She was right. We were more resilient than that. If he passed on me, we’d find another way in. It was what we did. It would work out either way.
Mitchell was waiting outside the main entrance, taking in the sunrise. I nodded to him, and he nodded back. “Have a sundae for me, okay?”
“I will,” he said, smiling at my mention of our code.
Owen stopped walking then, and our arms were pulled tight when I kept going.
“I’m going to stay here with Mitchell,” he said.
“I’ll just go tell the cabby you’re coming,” Rebecca said. “Mitchell?”
He nodded and walked on.
“She’s subtle, isn’t she?” Owen said, a small smile on his face. I tried to burn it into my memory since I wouldn’t get to see it again for a while if I was successful.
“You know I love you, right?” he asked.
“Impossibly.”
He smiled and lifted his hand to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “You are the worst kind of impossible.”
I leaned in to kiss him. It was soft and full of meaning. “So I’ve been told.” Taking a step back, I held on to his hand as I started to create distance between us.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” we said at the same time. We laughed, and that was how I left, with laughter. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I passed Mitchell, who gave me one last nod, and joined Rebecca at the curb. The cab had already pulled up to give me a ride to my new life.
She smiled knowingly at me, clearly understanding how hard it was to say goodbye. “Just make sure you remember to let out stray thoughts while you’re undercover. Just because you have that fancy cloak in place doesn’t mean you can be careless. He’s probably high ranking and highly skilled. Stay focused on what he wants you to do, and do it right, so he doesn’t notice anything odd about you. And don’t get frustrated if it takes some time. Learn to do the job he wants you to do first so you can gain his trust and confidence. Then start digging. Don’t worry about any of this until you’re past the interview, but I assume you’ll knock that out of the park. I mean, who wouldn’t love you?”
As she rattled off my responsibilities, I nodded along, laughing all the while. “Okay, Mom.”
She leaned in and hugged me. “Above all, don’t do anything stupid.”
I pulled away and gave her a mock hurt look. “Why do people keep saying that to me?”
Her expression turned serious. “Because you have a habit of doing dumb things.”
I chuckled and leaned in for one last hug. “Take care of Mitchell. I’m pretty fond of him.”
“I’m getting pretty attached to him myself.”
Reluctantly, I pulled away and got into the cab. Mitchell and Owen had joined Rebecca at the edge of the curb. Mitchell had his arm around her, and she leaned into him as they watched my cab pull away. Owen waved, and the sight of him retreating into the distance made my heart give a funny throb.
The drive wasn’t that far, maybe ten minutes or so. I flipped through Joyce’s file one last time on the ride, refreshing myself on the details of her life. Before I knew it, the cab stopped at my new apartment and the driver took my luggage upstairs. I followed him, the shoes digging into my heels with each stair we climbed. He set my suitcases down just inside the door, and after I thanked him and tossed the file on a nearby table, we both left. I didn’t have time to explore my new digs, but I registered that the place was both furnished and small.
Agusto’s office was only a few blocks from the new apartment, and I spent the walk trying to clear my head, get my defenses i
n order, and well…get my mind ready for the long road ahead.
Just before I went inside, I touched base with David one last time. I’m not sure if I should risk talking to you inside. I’m just about to go in. Will advise when I can.
I didn’t wait for an answer before crossing the threshold into enemy territory.
Twelve
The building Agusto owned was sprawling, and I wondered how I’d ever learn my way around. Just beyond the glass doors separating safety from the enemy’s lair, a receptionist sat at a tall desk against the back wall. Chairs lined the front wall, with plants scattered around. A fountain dominated one of the short walls, and a huge saltwater fish tank helped balance the water feature on the other. It made the room feel rather serene.
“My name is Joyce Nye. I’m here to see Mr. Masterson,” I said to the receptionist, standing up as straight as possible to try to exude confidence.
“Of course, Ms. Nye.” The woman didn’t look familiar. She had straight, brown hair that cropped into a bob, giving her a severe look. But her huge, brown eyes softened her face. I had no way of knowing whether or not this was my ally. All I knew was that the mole was a woman. She could be anyone, and with those kinds of odds, no one could be trusted or confided in.
She picked up the phone and called a mystery person. “Joyce Nye is here.” Hanging up without saying goodbye, she pointed me toward one of the chairs in the lobby area. “Someone will be right out to take you to Mr. Masterson.”
“Thank you,” I said, giving her my friendliest smile. Instead of sitting down, I went to look at the fish tank. In my downtime, watching the colorful fish swim by, I was tempted to reach out to Owen to tell him about the building and my suspicions about the receptionist. But this was the first time we were using our new long-distance communication method in a real mission. If the line wasn’t airtight, and she heard me, I’d be dead in the water before I even got to meet Agusto Masterson.
To be fair, I was letting through some mundane thoughts, and I had a fair amount of impressive defenses in place, including the cloak, so the likelihood that she would hear me was slim. Was it worth the risk? A blue tang stopped right in front of my face. “Nope,” I told it, reaching my finger up to the glass. It tried to nip at it, making me smile.
But the moment was shattered when a man behind me startled us both. “Joyce Nye?” His voice was too loud for how close he was to me. It echoed.
Taking a calming breath to expel my flash of irritation over being startled, I turned and offered him my hand, but he didn’t take it. He looked at it and turned around. “This way.”
He was tall, bald, and dressed in a black suit. Even his shirt and tie were black. The only thing that didn’t fit into the color scheme was the clear earpiece and the wire that trailed from it, down the back of his neck, and into the back of his suit coat. Security.
Once we were alone in the elevator together, I felt the telltale push against my mind, and I knew he was probing me. I held my breath, hoping my time spent creating Joyce, and then throwing her to the wolves outside the cloak, were enough to throw this dog off my scent.
At least I didn’t have to probe him to know he was a reader.
He didn’t bother to look back at me at all as we made our way down a long corridor, up a few floors in an elevator, and down another hall that was more nicely decorated than the one downstairs.
It was adorned with plush carpet that looked like it was cleaned and plumped on a daily basis. It also had upgraded light fixtures that cast a soft yellow light on the space, and small fountains coming out of the walls on either side at regular intervals. It created a very Zen, spa-like atmosphere.
Silently, the guard and I walked down the hallway as I wallowed in my disappointment over the guard’s abilities. Of course Agusto had surrounded himself with readers. Why wouldn’t he, if he was really a high-ranking member of the Potestas? One thing was for sure—this was bound to make my job more difficult.
The guard stopped in front of a set of cherry-wood double doors. He opened them, revealing a grand, circular room. Windows lined the back wall, displaying a glorious view of DC’s monuments.
To my amazement, I realized a small river was running through the floor, dividing the room in half. A stone stood in the middle, and the guard stepped easily across it, obviously well practiced. Putting way too much faith in my ability to walk in my torturous shoes, I followed suit, and by some miracle, I made it across without getting my legs wet. I’d always thought the rich had more money than sense, and here was the proof.
Peeking around the guard, I saw Agusto sitting at a huge, cherry desk that faced the windows. His head was down, and he appeared to be writing something.
“Mr. Masterson, the assistant candidate is here.”
“Wonderful,” he said, rather flatly. He continued writing, and the guard walked away, leaving me alone with a man who didn’t seem to want to give me the time of day.
As I watched him take his station near the door, I took a better look at the office and its décor. Huge paintings of men I didn’t recognize hung on the walls, and guards stood between them, making me tense. I hadn’t originally noticed them because of how still they stood, but it was bad news; I was more outnumbered than I’d originally thought.
Glancing at Agusto to make sure he was still preoccupied, I took care to keep releasing benign thoughts about the gorgeous room and my excitement about potentially working for him.
Carefully, I inspected the guards. Oddly, three of the five who were quietly lining the walls weren’t readers. Their unguarded thoughts bombarded me the moment I reached out. Why would Agusto have non-readers so close to him? Why wouldn’t he surround himself with only allies, particularly if he was so important to the Potestas’ cause? I was so busy scrutinizing the guards, I didn’t notice Agusto had turned his attention toward me.
“I hope the guards don’t make you uncomfortable. I find their presence…” He trailed off, as if searching for the right word. “Necessary.”
I turned back to him and smiled, hoping it would be enough to convince him I wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead of smiling back, he held out his hand without standing up, and I stepped forward and took it. His shake was firm and abrupt. A single pump was all he needed before he let me go.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Nye. I’m Agusto Masterson. Please call me Agusto.”
Nodding, I said, “Then you must call me Joyce.”
“Fine. Deal struck.” Even his causal talk was all business. “You have a very impressive resume, Joyce. Graduated top of your class with an MBA from Stanford. Your first position after graduating was with Apple. Tell me a little bit about what you did for them. I’m not sure how your experience at a technology company would translate here.” He sat forward in his chair as I stood uncomfortably in front of him. Although his tone was soft, almost friendly, I definitely felt like I was being interrogated, and I got the impression that was exactly how he wanted it.
“The positions are probably more similar than you would expect. I assisted many of the upper-level managers within the company. I helped them put presentations together, fielded phone calls and errands so they could focus on their teams, tracked deadlines, and helped in any way I could. I was a jack-of-all-trades, so to speak. If something needed to be done, I did it.”
“And as a Stanford graduate, you found that work satisfying?”
He was baiting me, but it didn’t bother me. I had a response. “For now, yes. I left Apple because I wanted a change of scenery. Nothing more, nothing less. It takes time to climb within a company. I understand that. I’m willing to do the work.”
He leaned back in his chair, appraising me. “And what if I hire you and you decide you want another change of scenery?”
“And what if you kick me to the curb after I spend years here, giving it my all? I’m going to be honest with you, Agusto—I’m in this for me, not you. If this job becomes more negative than positive for me at any point, I’ll leave with no regrets. But w
hile I’m here, you have me one hundred and ten percent.”
He smiled at me, and although I knew I’d taken a risk in saying that, I sensed he would respond to an appeal to his selfish side. After all, he did think his most productive workers were selfishly motivated. As he stood, he held out his hand, and I took it.
“I think you’ll be an excellent fit here, Joyce.”
I smiled confidently back at him, taking care to hide the gamut of emotions running through my mind. I’d deal with them later.
Abruptly, he released me and went back to his desk, opening a drawer and flipping through some papers. “As my personal assistant, you will do what I ask, when I ask it, without question,” he said as he pulled out a form. “With that comes a certain amount of confidentiality. I need to know I can trust you before you will really be useful to me.”
“Agreed,” I said, not knowing if I should speak or not.
“This is a very detailed confidentiality agreement. I recommend you take it home, read it carefully, and sign it. You will start work once it’s been signed. If you would like, have it looked at by a lawyer. It’s important for you understand what you’re signing away.”
What I’m signing away? I thought as I glanced over the document in my hands. He had a way of providing you with just enough honesty to make you almost want to trust him. It made me nervous about what he was hiding.
He eyed me and then said, “Trust takes time to build. However, know this. You have my respect until you give me a reason to take it away. Don’t abuse that.”
“Understood.”
Succinctly, he nodded once. “Fine. Come back to me when you’re ready to work. And don’t take too much time, Joyce. There’s a lot to do.” With that, he turned his back to me, not even watching as I stood to leave, the confidentiality agreement in hand.
I guess that’s that. I turned on my heels and walked out as calmly as I could, taking care to make sure my steps were even and unhurried all the way out of his office, downstairs, and out of the building to safety.
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