government over the years, but not as much as bigger corporations. Most companies similar to Cyberdyne in this area were located a couple of hours away in the Raleigh-Durham Research Triangle. But the original owner of Cyberdyne had loved the Blue Ridge Mountains so much he had built the Cyberdyne offices and labs just outside Asheville rather than Raleigh.
There wasn’t a lot of information on Dr. Zane M. Fuller, the head of Research & Development at Cyberdyne—the person who had helped develop Ghost Shell and then turned it over to the FBI. Sawyer glanced at the file. Looked as if Dr. Fuller held two doctoral degrees from MIT—barrels of fun.
What the file didn’t hold was any useful information about Dr. Fuller to help Sawyer plan out his protection detail. Was he married? Did he work fourteen hours a day? Did he have any bad habits that might get him into trouble?
Sawyer pictured a balding, cranky older guy with thick glasses and probably a bow tie. If that really was the case, Sawyer was going to take a selfie with Dr. Fuller and send it to Burgamy. His boss would probably cry tears of delight.
Sawyer might cry tears also, but they definitely wouldn’t be of delight.
Sawyer made his way inside Cyberdyne, taking a few minutes to chat with the attractive and attentive receptionist at the front desk. Far be it for Sawyer to miss an opportunity to talk to a pretty lady, especially in a situation like this.
The receptionist called a security guard—not nearly as friendly or attractive—to escort Sawyer to the R & D wing. Sawyer gave the woman a wink as he walked away. Maybe a couple of months here wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
The security guard led Sawyer down a series of hallways to a set of double doors. Sawyer watched as the man swiped a key-card through a scanner to unlock the door—adequate security, but not excellent and certainly not unbreakable—and opened it.
The Research & Development area was a much more open space than the hallway they had come through. It buzzed with activity, at least two dozen people working and talking at different stations and tables around the large room.
Another reception-type desk was near the door. The woman working here was not nearly as put-together as the graceful blonde at the Cyberdyne entrance. Here was a sort of mousy brunette with hair piled up in a messy bun at the top of her head and glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She didn’t even acknowledge Sawyer and the guard as they entered the room—she was too busy rooting through a drawer.
Evidently she didn’t find what she was looking for because she got up and walked over to a nearby filing cabinet and began searching through there.
Her gray pencil skirt and high-heeled black pumps with little bows made it difficult for Sawyer to stop staring at her legs. Wow. She might be mousy librarian on the top, but those legs... Sawyer noticed the security guard was also taking in the view.
When it became obvious the receptionist wasn’t going to notice them, the security guard cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am—”
The woman turned and took a few steps toward them. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, Mark. You know me.”
“It’s no problem, ma’am.” The guard’s Southern accent was noticeable. He gestured toward Sawyer. “This is Agent Branson.”
The receptionist glanced over at Sawyer, looking away before he could even smile at her. She turned back to the guard. “Thanks, Mark. We were expecting him. I’ll take it from here.”
The security guard smiled and nodded as he turned to leave—the man obviously had a little crush on the receptionist. Sawyer stepped forward to shake her hand and talk to her further, but she moved back.
“Can you give me a second? I’ll be right with you.” She didn’t quite look him in the eye as she said it; her gaze never seemed to move past his chest.
Sawyer watched as the woman reopened the drawer in the filing cabinet and began rooting through it again. When the search proved fruitless, she moved to another drawer. She seemed to have forgotten Sawyer was even there. Sawyer just enjoyed the view of her legs until it seemed as if she might never come out.
“Did you lose something in there?” When the woman glanced up over her glasses, blinking at him with big round eyes, Sawyer offered her his most engaging smile.
She just continued to blink at him for a few moments, then shoved her head back into the search without saying a word.
Okay. Sawyer crossed his arms while watching her. He wasn’t used to being ignored outright by women—especially cute little librarian ones with glasses, even though cute-librarian wasn’t generally his type.
Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t still appreciate her. Sawyer could appreciate all women.
Eventually Cute Glasses found whatever it was she was looking for in the cavernous drawer—some sort of stain-remover stick or something. She gave a small sound of triumph and turned around. And seemed authentically surprised to see Sawyer standing there.
More blinks. “Um, yes. Agent Branson, right?”
Sawyer’s eyebrows rose. “Forget I was here?” Sawyer shook his head with a half smile. She might be cute, but she was definitely the worst receptionist ever.
“I’m sorry, my mind tends to only focus on one thing at a time.” She looked back up at him, again more at his general chest area than in the eyes. Meanwhile still blinking those big brown eyes of hers.
Maybe she was shy. Sawyer didn’t mind shy and scatterbrained. Although the sophisticated beauty he met when he first entered the building was generally more his type, Sawyer certainly didn’t mind spending a few minutes with shy, either. So he winked at her, when she finally peeked up at his eyes for a second, trying to put her at ease.
But that just seemed to throw her into more of a tizzy—she began reorganizing all the items on the desk—so Sawyer decided to just try to talk to her.
“So, I’m Sawyer Branson, the law-enforcement agent you were expecting. What’s your name?”
“Megan.” She was still clutching that stain-remover stick in one hand, moving office-supply products on the desk with the other.
“Have you worked here long?”
She looked at him oddly, then nodded. “About eight years.”
Eight years? Wow, she must be somebody’s relative or something if she was still this bad at her job after eight years. Sawyer smiled at her again—when he could catch her eye for a second—and leaned up against the desk. “That’s great. Maybe if I have some questions about how things operate around here I can ask you about them.”
Cute librarian Megan just nodded.
Sawyer looked around the open R & D area. People were still working, although Sawyer noticed he and Megan had drawn some attention.
“I’m sure you know Dr. Fuller, right?” Sawyer asked in a conspiratorial tone. He might as well try to get as much information as he could before meeting the man.
That question certainly got Megan’s attention—she finally looked him fully in the eye. “Oh.” She said it with wonder as if some puzzle had just become clear to her. “You don’t know who Dr. Fuller is.” It wasn’t
