“Would you like something to eat while we complete the forms?”
Fionnella’s question jerks me back to the present. Her hand rests on the handle of a wide door at the far end of the hallway, and she stares up at me from a diminutive height.
For a second, I wonder what a woman who seems to vibrate motherliness is doing in a place like this. Then I catch myself. I’m pretty certain she’s not here out of the goodness of her heart. She’s being paid, same as I hope to be. And money can pretty much buy you anything. Even temporary absolution from death. I should know. It’s what I’m attempting to do.
“I have a menu if you’d like to see it?” she presses. “It’s not very extensive but there’s a good selection to choose from.”
The timely gnawing in my stomach reminds me I haven’t eaten since a rushed half burrito at lunchtime. “If it’s no trouble, thanks.”
Her smile widens as she throws the door open. “It’s no trouble, honey. Besides, putting a little more meat on your bones is part of my brief.”
Brief. I swear I’ve heard that word more times in the last week than any other time in my entire life. True, I’ve also thought about it, specifically the part where it involves my brief interaction with Quinn Blackwood.
I haven’t been able to get him out of my head, although the actual reliving of our meeting has been kept to a minimum, simply because it messes with my head and body in a way that scares the shit out of me.
Even more alarming was the gutting disappointment not to have been summoned into Sully’s office today and sent to help upstairs. A lingering look from a cop on the way here reminded me why risking exposure in any way could shatter the thin layer of protection I’ve managed to buy myself.
I enter the room and stumble to a halt. I hadn’t quite understood that a team would mean more than Fionnella. Three more people from sectioned off corners of the room turn to stare at me, and I can’t help the visceral chill of fear that rises.
“Let me introduce you. This is Wendy, my assistant,” Fionnella says, pointing to the woman seated at a table draped with lingerie. Beside her are three railed rows of clothes. Wendy nods, and returns to her sorting.
Obviously not as bubbly as her boss.
“The camera-wielding fiend over there is Todd.” She smiles at a tall, skinny guy with dirty blond hair at the far side of room. He sends me a two-fingered wave, but his attention returns to the expensive looking camera in his hand. Scattered around his workspace are all types of lighting equipment, back lights and three large floor lamps. “He’s just setting up. You won’t work with him or Wendy until your grooming gets underway.”
I drag my gaze from Todd to a woman in a skirt suit who approaches with a serious face and an outstretched hand. “And this is Dr. Allen. She’ll be in charge of your blood work, and a couple of other things. I’ll let her explain, after we get you something to eat.” I shake hands with the woman who then disappears behind a screen. Fionnella smiles encouragingly. “Do you have the menu, Wendy?”
Wendy rises without responding and presents me with a heavy folded menu, the kind you find in posh restaurants, only in miniature. She retreats just as silently, but not before I catch a look I’ve been familiar with for most of my life.#p#分页标题#e#
Contempt.
I choose to let her keep the stick up her ass. One less person who takes an interest in me is one less person to worry about exposing myself to.
Fionnella indicates a desk with two chairs on her side of the room. As I walk to it, I wonder again about the man behind the camera.
The man without a name.
I look around what was probably a great room or a small ballroom in the original design. The walls, like the rest of the apartment, are beautifully lined and there are elaborate ceiling designs that I’m sure didn’t come from some production line in Taiwan.
On the far side nearest Todd, a set of French doors looks out onto a softly lit terrace. I don’t have to be money savvy to know that terraced penthouses in Manhattan cost millions of dollars.
Right now, the room is divided into four spaces. The last space is unoccupied, but I see what looks like a portable massage table and several baskets of grooming products. There’s also a makeup table and chair set up. “You’ll meet Angela later. She’ll go through makeup with you.”
I nod and take a seat in front of Fionnella’s desk. When she gesutres encouragingly at the menu, I open it. My mouth waters immediately, and I want to point to the first thing I see, which happens to be a triple cheese burger and fries. I swallow the surge of saliva and force my gaze down the list.