heard he doesn’t do much, outside of work.”
“Doesn’t seem to.”
Rand had called this meeting to give her the final sale papers on the house, in case she should need them. It never ceased to amaze her how fast the Redstone name and horsepower got things done, even government paperwork.
They were at the restaurant where she’d met Josh when she’d started this assignment. She had grabbed the chance at a decent meal; this job was making her rethink the wisdom of never having learned to cook. Rand, as usual, was drinking a soda, while she sipped at a surprisingly good lemonade.
“Is he as odd a duck as they say?” Rand asked.
Sam felt strangely defensive. “I haven’t seen him do anything particularly odd. Yes, he thinks differently, but that’s good, not odd.”
Rand raised a brow at her.
“Like this morning,” she said, “we heard a story on the car radio about some firefighters who were killed in a forest fire. The report said they made it into their fire shelters, that it was breathing the superheated air as the fire burned over them that killed them. So Ian immediately began thinking about developing some device small enough to carry that would give them just enough breathable air to survive a burn over.”
“I see what you mean,” Rand conceded. “And if Josh is right about him, he’ll probably do it, eventually. Although St. John says the Safe Transit Project is his only focus right now.”
She nodded.
He paused before saying, “It’s Ian, now, is it?”
She grimaced at him. “Well I can hardly call him Gamble to his face, now can I?”
“Sorry,” Rand said, with a grin that belied the words. “Didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”
“So what’s up back home?” she asked, not caring if her subject change was obvious. “I feel like I’m totally out of the loop.”
“You heard Draven got McClaren out?”
“Josh told me,” she confirmed.
“So his record is still perfect.”
“Was there any doubt?”
Rand shrugged. “You never know.”
That was a truth anyone on the Redstone security team soon learned, Sam thought later as she drove out of the restaurant parking lot. In an empire as varied as the one Josh had built, anything could happen. It was their job, impressed upon them from the moment they were accepted on the team, to see that no matter what happened, no Redstone people were hurt. Property, both physical and intellectual, came second.
She was waiting at what had to be the longest traffic light in the city when her cell phone rang.
“Beckett,” she answered.
“He’s leaving.” There was no word of identification, but she recognized St. John’s deep voice.
She glanced at her watch. “This early?”
“I believe there was some tension in the lab today.”
“Tension? Ian?”
“Ian is rarely tense.”
And that was all the answer she was going to get, it seemed. She had no doubt Josh’s omnipresent assistant knew exactly what had happened, but she didn’t press for details. No one pressed St. John except Josh, and she’d bet even he picked his battles carefully.
“All right.”
She disconnected and pondered a moment, still waiting for that blessed light to change. She and Ian had come to the agreement that she would come by when she got off, wait no longer than fifteen minutes, and if he wasn’t out by then she was to leave and he’d find his own way home. So far there had been only one day when she’d waited longer, nearly an hour, but he’d seemed to accept her story of heavy traffic. She knew from St. John that this regularity in itself was unusual; Ian had a tendency, St. John told her, to lose track of time.
She could go to Redstone now, but Ian might wonder why she conveniently happened to get off this early on this particular day. He had her cell number. She’d given it to him and told him to call if his schedule changed, but she doubted he would, not when as far as he knew she was working a regular job and got off at six.
Instead, she decided to swing by the Chinese takeout, grab some food, and then go get him. With luck the food would be distraction enough that her apparently flexible hours wouldn’t become a topic.
It worked. The moment he got into the car and smelled the luscious aromas, talk of mere time was forgotten.
“I was starved,” she explained. “I hope you don’t mind, I got enough for two, as long as I was there, anyway.”
“Mind? I could kiss you.”
Well, now that was a visual, Sam thought, shocked at the tiny jolt the idea gave her. He was digging around in the bags, seemingly unaware of what he’d said.
Of course, there was no reason to think he meant it as anything more than a joking remark. Something people just said. In fact, if the growl his stomach had just sent up was any indication, he was hungry enough to have meant it no matter who had provided the food.
It’s you who’s out of whack here, she told herself. Get your mind in the game, Beckett.
“How long have you worked for Redstone?” she asked.
“Four years.” He opened a bag and peered in.
“You like it?”
His head came up. “Yes. Yes, I do. Josh Redstone is one of a kind. He gave me a chance when no one else would, and I owe him everything.”
“It’s nice to have a boss like that,” she said, meaning it in the exact way he did, although he didn’t know it.
“Yes. He’s the best. It’s why everybody who works there stays, and he’s got hundreds of applicants to chose from for any job that opens up.” He dived back into the bag before he said casually, “How did you know I’d be leaving this early on a Friday?”
She made a note to herself never again to assume she could distract this particular mind. At least not for long.
“Actually, I’ve been off since four-thirty. My boss went out of town,” she improvised. “So I figured I had time to grab food.”
He looked up from the bag of small white boxes. “You really don’t have to be my taxi service every day.”
“I know, it’s a sacrifice,” she said with mock melodrama. “I have to drive an entire one hundred yards out of my way to cruise the Redstone driveway.”
“Yeah. Well.” He sounded rather embarrassed. “I got a call today that they have to order a part for my car. And they don’t know how long it will be.” He sounded disgusted,
