Monsters, Matt Rogers [ereader for android .txt] 📗

‘You know what’s in my best interests, do you?’

‘Yes, pal,’ Booth said, holding eye contact. ‘I think I do.’

‘Okay. When’s closing time?’

‘Last class finishes at nine.’

‘That’s when you want me here?’

A pause. ‘Make it nine-thirty.’

Booth had braced for a retort but Slater said, ‘Nine-thirty it is. Both of us, right?’

Booth nodded.

He was still expecting questions. What are we discussing? Why so late? Why the half-hour buffer? Is this about a permanent contract?

Slater didn’t ask. He gave a nod that he hoped seemed conspiratorial enough, and Booth walked away.

King came off the mats a few minutes later. Slater immediately noticed the clouding in his eyes, the unspoken thoughts that claimed his attention.

Slater said, ‘You were speaking to that young guy the whole time?’

King nodded. ‘Whole lotta lost kids out there. Makes you realise we’re detached from it in Winthrop. Don’t see it up close, all day, everyday.’

Slater tried to analyse King’s mood as they both stepped out into the sun-soaked parking lot. The clouds and drizzle had receded, but the air was still thick, steamy in the warmth. Ancient sedans and hatchbacks with dents and scratches and copious amounts of rust sat lined up in front of the gym. Budding fighters weren’t the wealthiest lot. It took a certain level of mental instability to do this profession if you had enough money in the bank to support yourself. It’s easier to push hard when it’s the only option for survival. Slater had never forgotten the boxer Marvin Hagler’s quote, not even when black operations started earning him millions: It’s tough to get out of bed to do roadwork at 5 a.m. when you’ve been sleeping in silk pyjamas.

King, on the other hand, seemed disturbed by the blight of the strugglers.

Slater said, ‘You’re not thinking about opening a gym, are you?’

King glanced over. ‘What? No.’

‘I mean…down the line.’

‘No,’ King said. Then, after a beat, he said, ‘I don’t think so.’

They got back in the rental car.

Almost immediately, Slater’s phone rang. He checked the contact information before he answered and grimaced. ‘She can’t be calling this soon to give us good news.’

King said, ‘Alexis?’

Slater nodded and answered. ‘Hey. What happened?’

‘I screwed up,’ Alexis said, her voice low with frustration. ‘I thought it’d be a walk in the park, but I think I started a war.’

31

Heidi Waters wiped her schedule for the hour after the Mary Böhm lookalike left.

Considering the state of her company, and the importance of the next few weeks as they geared up for the product launch, she may as well have announced to the whole office that there was a major crisis. She should’ve thought it through before cancelling the back-to-back meetings, because almost as soon as she told her PA in the outer office to pass the message along, John Rhames was back in her doorway.

She looked up from the surface of her desk, which she’d been vacantly staring at for the last ten minutes, spellbound by recent developments. Lost in dark thoughts that she only wished John could see, because then he might think twice about pressing her.

But he couldn’t read her mind, so he just said, ‘Heidi.’

His tone would’ve struck fear into the hearts of far more experienced executives.

She barely paid attention to him, certainly didn’t feel anything close to nerves. The game had changed now. What the board thought about the way she ran Vitality+ was so low on her new list of priorities that she could barely find the motivation to pretend she was interested.

John fixed her with that piercing gaze. ‘Heidi.’

She sighed and met his stare. ‘What, John? I cancelled your follow-up. Didn’t Raya tell you?’

‘I don’t care what you or your assistant tell me.’ He stepped inside and closed the door. ‘We need to talk about your hampering of communication between employees. It can’t wait. It’s my responsibility to ensure this company has a competent leader.’

She sighed, decided she’d give him thirty seconds before she put down the hammer. ‘We already covered this. I took your opinion on board.’

‘It’s not an opinion.’ He dumped himself in the same chair as before, the one the mystery woman had taken after he’d left. Without Frank Bolton beside him to keep the peace, he could let all his frustration out. It was just them, alone in her office, the door sealed tight. ‘It’s draconian, is what it is.’

She affixed him with a pointed stare. ‘Don’t talk to me like that.’

He made a face. ‘Let’s dispense with the bullshit political correctness, shall we, Heidi?’

‘No,’ Heidi snapped. ‘If you’re not happy with the way I’m running things around here, and you feel the need to share that with me, you do it in a way that’s amicable. Anything else and I won’t listen to a word you say.’

‘We’re past that,’ John said. ‘We’re past common decency.’

The last two words left his lips with a sinister connotation.

Heidi picked up on it. ‘You got something on your mind, John?’

‘You read about Sundström?’

‘I’ve seen the news, yes. I hope to God he’s okay.’

‘Do you?’

Her stare nearly burned a hole through him. ‘You’re way out of line. I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and you’re going to go have a long think about what sort of accusations you’re comfortable making.’

‘I’m comfortable. And I’m not going anywhere to have a think. I’ve already had one. So I’m here. Telling you what I think.’

‘And what’s that?’

He actually hesitated, which she imagined was rare for someone as cutthroat as he was. But he pressed on. ‘I think you’re stifling communication between employees for a reason. The board’s been hearing whispers of confusion about it for months, now, but the complaints are ramping up. It seems, as far as I can tell, that the only person who has a full picture of the technology is you. I’ve asked around, and I can’t get a straight answer from anyone about whether the brain scans actually work.’

‘Of course they work,’ Heidi said. ‘You think we’d be here if they didn’t?’

‘Every time?’

‘We’re ironing out