I follow Cruce across the floor to the opposite side of the building where there’s a freight elevator. Another eye scan has the scrolled gate unlocking, and we step inside. It creaks and groans its way up one floor. As it comes into view, I’m absolutely astounded by what I’m now seeing.
Sleek hardwood floors, refurbished red brick walls, and high-end furniture. I get a glimpse of desks and computers before we continue up. There’s not much to see on the third floor except more gleaming hardwood floors and a long hallway that has several closed doors.
We go up one more floor, which by my account is the 4th if you count the parking garage as a basement level. The elevator comes to a shuddering stop. The grate opens, and we step into what looks like a huge living room.
Large couches, plush recliners, and a huge wall-mounted TV make up a cozy sitting area. To the right is a massive industrial kitchen. Beyond that, a short hallway ends in a T-intersection.
“There you are,” a woman’s voice says, and I turn in that direction.
My jaw drops as I take in the blonde walking my way, her arms outstretched and an empathetic expression on her face.
Before she reaches me, I mutter to Cruce, “Holy shit… that’s Joslyn Meyers.”
I may mostly lock myself away in a world of energy and physics, but one of my pleasures is music and Joslyn Meyers is a favorite of mine. She’s an A-lister who can both act and sing, and I have every one of her albums.
The petite woman wraps me in a big bear hug, then she pulls away to scan me with almost motherly concern.
“Clearly, you know Joslyn,” Cruce says dryly. “She’s Kynan’s fiancée and the mother hen of the group.”
That’s right. I remember seeing something online about her taking a break from show business, but I never would have thought she’d be camped out in Pittsburgh as the den mother for Jameson Force Security.
“Kynan’s waiting for you downstairs in the large conference room,” Joslyn tells Cruce as she wraps her arm around my waist. “I was just starting dinner, so maybe Barrett can stay up here with me and help.”
Cruce nods gratefully, which means he doesn’t want me involved in whatever conversation they might have. Somehow, I think it might have to do with the man they took prisoner. I imagine they think it might be too much for my delicate sensibilities, and I’m pretty sure I agree.
“I’ll have her luggage sent up,” Cruce tells Joslyn. “She’ll be staying in my apartment.”
Joslyn blinks at this news, as do I. He lives here?
Cruce turns to me. Once again, he steps in and puts his hand behind my neck. I take that as his signal he wants my full and undivided attention. My eyes lock onto his blue ones.
“Have Joslyn make you an ice pack and get it on those ribs again, okay?”
“Okay,” I murmur, feeling as if maybe I’m more than a job to him.
“Good girl,” he replies, then his hand falls away and he walks to the elevator.
I glance at Joslyn, whose gaze follows Cruce. She has a pensive look on her face, and I can tell his behavior around me perplexes her for some reason.
“Cruce seems like a nice guy,” I say to get her attention as the elevator descends.
“He is,” she replies brightly, but she doesn’t take my bait to talk about him further. Instead, she starts toward the kitchen and motions for me to follow. “I was going to make a lasagna for dinner. It’s a good go-to to feed a crowd.”
“Crowd?” I ask.
“Me, you, Kynan, Bebe, Cruce, and Saint. Not a huge crowd, but those men can eat.”
“Where’s Dozer?” I ask. Based on his chicken marsala, he should be up here cooking for us.
Joslyn walks over to the freezer, then pulls out a gelled ice pack. “He’s in Vegas helping them put a plan together to nab the arms dealers who mentioned your name.”
“Should that still be done now since we have one of the guys who actually tried to kidnap me?” I ask as she wraps a tea towel around the ice pack and hands it to me.
Joslyn shrugs. “It would seem that might be a waste now, but I bet that’s on their discussion agenda. I’m sure they’ll fill us in at supper. Now, have a seat. Would you like a glass of wine?”
I manage to get on one of the high barstools at the oversized counter separating the kitchen and living area, then place the pack against my ribs, which don’t even ache that much. “Wine would be great.”
While Joslyn pours us each a glass, I look around curiously. “So… what is this place?”
“This is the communal living area. This floor has five apartments. Each one has its own living area and small kitchen, but Kynan wanted something where everyone could gather as a team to cook or hang out if we wanted to.”