“I didn’t,” I lied and felt my face burn.
“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, clearly not believing me. He looked at me with more intention and then slid his chair sideways so we could fully see each other. He looked about Bray’s age, a few years older than me, and wore a lanyard around his neck with his photo and name on it.
“Hi, Agent Singh,” I said once I read it.
He studied me for a silent moment before his face split into a grin. “Call me Ramesh. You’re her, aren’t you? The CI who Agent Bray keeps talking about?”
I blinked several times, trying to keep up. He’d gone from scolding me to smiling at me to gossiping like we were besties.
“Um, yes?” I said as my face warmed at the thought that Bray was talking about me. With the way Ramesh had said it, I got the sense Bray wastalkingabout me, not that he was sharing updates on the case with his cubicle mate.
Thoughts of my dream crashed into me again, sending a flurry of nerves and heat loose in my belly.
“Nice to meet you,” Ramesh said. “I’ve heard good things.”
“Oh?” I said, truly curious. “Like what?”
“Like you’re smart and a badass. I think Bray is a little bit afraid of you.” He whispered the last part like we were in on a secret.
I flushed again. “I expected you to say he says I’m a pain in the ass.”
“Well, yes. That too.” He smiled like it was a compliment.
I smiled back. “What do you do here?”
He lifted his hands as if to put his desk on display. “I’m the guy in the chair.”
“The what?”
“You know, when the field agents are out on jobs and they need to know something ASAP, like how to get out of a building or the best traffic route to escape or if someone is allergic to peanuts and might have been poisoned, they call me.” He proudly grinned.
“I see,” I said with a nod. “So, you’re basically the brains of any operation.”
“Correct. Although the guys and girls out there dodging bullets and punching bad guys don’t always see it that way. Bray is one to give credit where it’s due though,” he said and nodded at where I sat. “He’s always been a good guy, but after his recovery and the months he spent in the chair, he knows the job from both sides now.”
I thought back to what Bray had said in the stairwell: He’d been at a desk for six months. He must have been aguy in the chair, like Ramesh.
“Guy like him doesn’t belong at a desk though,” Ramesh went on. “It’s taking some time to get his legs back, but he’s a Goddamn hero, if you ask me.”
I casually pinched one of the succulent’s thick spears, having a feeling I’d get more information out of a chatty cubicle mate than I ever would from Bray. “He mentioned this is his first case back in the field. What happened?”
Ramesh leaned in and lowered his voice. “He almost died on a job, from multiple gunshot wounds. The doctors were lucky to save him. Had the whole office in a panic, especially his mom—I mean, the director.”
Guilt washed over me anew for giving Bray a hard time as Ramesh blushed at his slip. “Was there anyone else, um … particularly worried about him?” I asked and pinched the succulent again.
“I mean, we all were,” Ramesh said. “But if you’re asking if there was a girlfriend, no. No one like that.”
A relieved breath whooshed out of me before I could stop it. I flamed in embarrassment again as Ramesh tried to hide a knowing grin. I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “What’s the deal with that? Is it weird to have the director’s son working here?”
Ramesh shrugged. “Not really. He doesn’t take advantage. If anything, she’s harder on him.” He leaned in again and nearly whispered. “The truth is, I don’t know if he ever even wanted this job. I think he’d be in a band somewhere if it paid the bills and he wasn’t built for climbing walls and taking bullets.”
“Band? What instrument does he play?”
“I guess I shouldn’t sayband.More like an ensemble or an orchestra, or wherever cellos go.”
“I knew it!” I blurted. My impression of his elegant hands playing a classy instrument was spot-on.
Ramesh jerked back at my outburst.
