Cruce’s gaze comes to me as he asks, “How’s the peanut? Growing like a weed?”
“Yes,” I exclaim, promptly pulling my phone out of my shoulder clutch to show him pictures.
“You need to send these to Barrett,” he says with a laugh. “She has baby fever.”
“Really?” I drawl, my eyebrows raised. “You two are trying?”
“When we’re on the same side of this continent,” he replies with bitter exaggeration.
Malik looks a little lost, so I fill him in. “Barrett travels back and forth to California. She’s helping a private research consortium out there develop a reactor to generate fusion energy.”
Malik looks slightly confused as he blinks his eyes. “Sounds like a smart woman.”
“Double PhDs in electrical engineering and physics,” Cruce replies proudly, his chest puffing out a little. Then he leans in toward Malik, gives a sly look around to ensure no one else is listening, and murmurs, “But don’t let that fool you. She’s hot as hell, too.”
I snort as Malik bursts out laughing. “Duly noted.”
We load our plates up with slices of carved beef tenderloin with spicy horseradish, Cajun boiled shrimp, glazed carrots, pasta salad, pork dumplings, and samplings from a charcuterie board. My plate has little piles neatly arranged while Malik’s is weighed down by a mountain of food.
Cruce joins us at a table already occupied by two other Jameson agents, Ladd McDermott and Jackson Gale. They were both hired after Malik got captured, so I make introductions.
Both men are easygoing and make Malik instantly feel welcomed. Ladd is one of our older agents at forty-one. He has premature salt-and-pepper hair he wears cropped short and brushed forward. His piercing blue eyes can look frosty at first glance, but he’s a pretty nice guy from what little interaction I’ve had with him. Kynan told me that he’s former CIA, which means he has some really good stories to tell I bet.
Jackson is about Malik’s age and a former Navy SEAL. Cage brought him into Jameson a few months ago. Despite being in his mid-twenties, Jackson has an old man’s vibe about him. Not physically, of course, but more in spirit. It’s like he’s seen things he shouldn’t have and, from that, he’s developed a wisdom most people his age don’t have.
“Where’s Cage?” Jackson asks.
“San Francisco,” I reply, cutting into my tenderloin. “He and Rachel are speaking at a security conference all week.”
Rachel is Kynan’s second in command at Jameson, and she runs the Vegas office. I haven’t met her yet, but I have talked to her many times via phone and Skype. She’s super cool. It’s one of the things I love most about working at Jameson and having Kynan as a boss. He puts women in power positions, and he doesn’t believe their gender is a limiting factor at all.
It often makes me wonder if I could be “more” one day. I have military training, after all. I’m daring and adventurous, not afraid of a challenge. While I’m good at my job of helping Kynan run this company, I know I have more to offer.
“I was thinking of hitting The Basement tonight,” Jackson says, turning to Malik. “Want to come out?”
To my surprise, Malik’s gaze moves to me. While his face remains motionless, I can read the question within his eyes.
Should I?
He’s not asking me from any type of proprietary standpoint. He’s asking if I believe he’s ready to put himself out there with his new teammates and into mainstream life.
“I better put a warning out to all the single ladies,” I say with a wink.
Malik takes that as my acknowledgment that… yes, I do think it would be good for him. Plus, he needs to bond with more members of Jameson.
“What about you?” Jackson asks Ladd.
He shakes his head. “Sorry… got plans tonight, but maybe some other time. They have that new ax-throwing thing there, which sounds right up my alley.”
“You’ll come, too, Anna?” Malik asks, and I swivel his way. Again, there’s nothing on his face and his tone is neutral, leaning toward just being inclusive, but it seems to me it’s important to him that I come, too.
Jackson jumps in to correct his invitation oversight. “Of course, Anna. You come, too. I wasn’t excluding you at all. I just assumed you’d need to get home to Avery.”
“My mom has her all night,” I reply with an understanding smile. But I also know part of that was exclusionary, and not because Jackson is a bad guy. It’s just… I’m not really part of that team.
I’m Kynan’s administrative assistant, which is not comparable to the bond the agents who are continually putting their lives at risk in some of the missions they go on share.
Maybe I should talk to Kynan about moving me up in the ranks. I’m sure I could be of better service here, although Jimmy is probably rolling in his grave right now at the direction of my thoughts.