“Doubtful,” Cal says, scooping up my phone and scrolling back to the last reply I got from Shaw. It was around noon yesterday, and she had just confirmed Selene’s arrival at another high school for one of her AJ’s Promise forums. After that, it’s been nothing but radio silence. “Maybe she had a family emergency?”
I take the phone from his outstretched hand and flip it closed. “Or maybe something’s wrong.”
“Beck.” He folds his paper and sets it aside. “You can’t go to the worst-case scenario every time Shaw goes quiet. We knew she wouldn’t be able to be in constant contact.”
We decided months ago that any and all contact related to or for Selene would go through Shaw. When we were still employed through the Service, we sent coded messages using our work phones because we couldn’t risk being caught with burners. Even on the busiest days, she was good about keeping us in Selene’s loop. Going this long without hearing from her is completely out of the ordinary.
“I don’t need constant contact, Cal, but I do needsomething.”
“And you’ll get it,” he says, certainty I even laced in the words. “You just have to be patient.”
“Patience is the one thing I don’t have.”
“What’s it going to take for you to acquire some?”
My jaw clenches. It’s a subconscious attempt to stop the request I know Cal won’t grant from hitting the air. It doesn’t work. “I want to see her.”
Now that I’ve lent my voice to the desire, I’m powerless to stop it from taking over my mind, from stoking a restless fire in my veins that makes my muscles twitch with the need to move. I’m on my feet before I’ve actually decided to stand, grabbing my keys from the hook beside the front door and pausing just long enough to pose a question to Cal.
“You coming?”
It might have turned into an argument if he wasn’t as desperate to see Selene as I am. Since he is, the drive to Culture Code is tense but brimming with an excitement that makes me wonder why we hadn’t thought of coming to her office before. I guess we’ve just been playing it safe, keeping our distance because the last time we took it upon ourselves to get close it fucked everything up.
“There aren’t any agents covering the door,” Cal observes as I maneuver into one of the spots on the street across from the building.
“Shaw’s vehicle isn’t here.”
The blacked-out, bulletproof tank of an SUV wasn’t on any of the side streets or at the back either. I made sure to look for it when we did a reconnaissance lap to make sure there weren’t any paparazzi camped out in the area. Thankfully, the press has lost interest in the mundanity of the First Lady’s participation in the corporate world. They’ve moved on to much moreinteresting things like her husband opting to return to the table with the leader of Qatar to discuss the military base they want to build on US soil. Apparently, things are going much better than expected, and everyone wants to know what led to Aubrey’s sudden change of heart.
I kill the engine, conducting a visual sweep of the area and finding nothing out of the ordinary. There are people moving in and out of the building, computer bags on their backs or slung over their shoulders and headphones in their ears. Everything looks normal, except it’s not because today is one of Selene’s scheduled office days, and she’s not here.
I’ve completely dismissed the possibility of her being anywhere her detail is not because we agreed before she left the house the other night that she would stick close to Shaw and her team. Cal’s fingers drum lightly on the arm of the door, and I don’t have to ask to know what he’s thinking.
“Two possibilities,” I say, unhooking my seat belt. “They’re all taking a sick day or something’s wrong.”
Cal scrubs a hand over his face, a dark resignation rippling in puddles of brass and copper as he pops open the passenger door. “Maybe it’s a stomach bug,” he offers as we cross the street.
“What like some virus they all happen to have at the same time?”
“Or a case of food poisoning,” he suggests, following me through the automatic doors. It’s been months since I’ve stepped inside this building, and everything looks pretty much the same. Outside of the youthful members of the Junior Coding Academy, there aren’t really any new faces either, and because everyone knows us they make it annoyingly easy to get to Selene. Even Nichelle, her assistant, just smiles and waves us through the doors, not even bothering to leave her desk to announce our arrival.
I’m vibrating with anger by the time we make it to her, so my tone is sharp and close to cutting when I ask, “Where the fuck is your security?”
Selene is standing near the conference table with her back to us and all of her focus on the white board before her. She’s not writing on it, just staring at it with her hands on her hips and a black marker clutched in her left hand. The TV, which she usually keeps on to provide ambient noise, is off, so the sudden sound of my voice interrupting her silence scares the fuck out of her.
“JESUS!” she screams, almost jumping out of her skin.
The marker flies out of her hand, landing near her feet as she turns to face us with a palm pressed over her heart. When she sees that it’s Cal and me, the fear fades, transforming into joy laced annoyance that, thankfully, doesn’t stop her from letting us both take her in our arms and steal a few kisses.
“What are you two doing here?”
Cal passes a soothing hand over her back. “We came to check on you.”
I move over to the whiteboard, curious about what exactly she’s mapping out. “And it’s a good thing we did since you’re here with no protection.”
“The building has a dedicated security team,” she protests, the edge in her voice reminding me of the first time I came to this office and we argued about the deficiencies of her security set up.
“The team that let Cal and I through without asking for identification or making us get visitor’s badges?”
