Page 9 of Nothing to You (Nothing to… #7)

“THIS IS INCREDIBLE!”

Driving past the raised barrier to enter the private complex immediately signaled they weren’t in Kansas anymore.

What a picture-perfect scene. Gleaming security boxes flanked three lanes of flawless tarmac that cut through greenery so lush it had to be artificial.

The three lanes blended into one road that went no more than a hundred meters when it came to a fork.

Two options: Mosaic to the right, Dyce Tech to the left.

They went right.

So many questions. She hadn’t been on Huddle or talked to Rourke since their morning conversation the previous day. Life had been manic. And she was making a point. What point? That he wasn’t as powerful or important in her life as he probably thought.

She’d survived without him before. He had to learn he was part of her life through choice, their individual choices, not necessity. It was not obligation or reliance.

The seamless asphalt sliced through the verdant grass as they drove toward the spherical building up ahead.

Yep, it was a reflective glass sphere, gorgeous, large, and completely wrong.

How did it support its weight? How did they keep it from tumbling one way or the other?

It shouldn’t be possible, yet there it was.

Rolling by another guarded entrance, they stopped right in front of the magnificent building.

Damnit, did it have to be so impressive?

Thank God Rourke was still in LA. She shouldn’t have to think about him that weekend. It would be easier to settle in if she didn’t have to worry about him popping up here, there, and everywhere.

A guy opened the car door. A broad, hunky guy. Mmm, hello. As her mouth was about to introduce herself, another female voice roused the air.

“Hi, yeah, okay,” the woman said, clutching a tablet, a stack of files, and a cellphone.

“I’m sorry, I’m not totally organized. This happened fast.” The laugh was little more than awkward, and their confusion didn’t ease the little brunette’s contrition.

She swallowed. “So I’m Mieux, Penrose. Pronounced Mew, but not spelled that way.

Mieux Penrose and… I’m here for whatever you need. ”

“Whatever we need,” Franco said and nudged Myles, his grin bursting. “This place is amazing.”

“It is, it really is amazing,” Mieux said, passing the files from her tablet hand to the forearm of her cellphone hand, cradling them against her chest. “I’m not exactly qualified to give you a full history of Mosaic, but I can say you will not find Mosaic HQ lacking.”

“If you’re not qualified, why are you here?” Helena asked. “Don’t you work here?”

“I’m on contract from the Brooker Agency,” Mieux said. “I go wherever they need me. I’ve worked with Mosaic a few times. It’s one of my favorite places to be.”

“You’re a temp,” Helena said.

She didn’t have to be so snide, did she? Why was Helena sneering at the woman there to support them?

“Something like that,” Mieux said with half a shrug.

Walking backward, she tried to gesture for them to follow.

“As you were all, are all, Mosaic employees, your security credentials are on the system. You’ve been upgraded…

” Even as she walked backward, the smooth glass doors inset from the exterior wall slid open.

“So you’re already authorized to go where you can and can’t go. ”

“Where can we go?” Myles asked.

“Where can’t we go?” was Franco’s question.

“As you can see…” Mieux did her best to open her arms, “there are food and drink establishments, convenience and clothes stores. Anything you could need is available here at Mosaic. Everything on this floor is accessible to everyone. You need office supplies? Coffee at two a.m.? You can get both here.” She kept on going backwards.

“Gym and pool facilities are available to all. Spa and other recreational facilities too.” She read the top file. “Who’s Franco?”

Oops, yeah, maybe they should’ve introduced themselves.

Franco held up a hand to receive a file. As Mieux said each of their names, they got their own documents. Security logins, policies and procedures, employee handbook, maps of the building, the campus, the village… and a lease, hmm, interesting.

“I’ll show you around down here, the different facilities we have, and then upstairs, where you’ll be working. It seems overwhelming now, I know, but you have the weekend to settle in.”

“Are the other team here?” Helena asked. “I’d like to meet them.”

“Not yet, they are on their way though,” Mieux said. “You should be able to meet them before your flight.”

Helena had elected to go home and arrange her things for the move to California. She wasn’t as particular. The movers could pack her essentials. She’d brought her laptop and could get a new vibrator. What else was there to worry about?

“Have you met him?” Franco asked, stalling Mieux after one step.

“Him? Mr. Rourke?”

“Yeah,” Franco said. “We haven’t been introduced. We’ve been in the same room as him but Roux—”

“Okay, she doesn’t need to hear about that,” Helena said. “We have a fresh start here.”

Somehow, she didn’t think that was Helena’s way of protecting her. No, she probably wanted everyone to forget about her fit at the pitch.

“I have met him,” Mieux said. “But he meets fifty new people a day, don’t be surprised if he forgets a name or sends others in his stead. Mosaic prides itself on collaborative working. It’s part of their schtick, I guess you could say.”

“Dyce Technologies shares the campus.”

“It does,” Mieux said, smile growing. “Mr. Rourke and Mr. Dyce have known each other since they were children. They share many of the same resources and often meet to brainstorm or help each other through dilemmas.”

That felt a little like the brochure spiel.

“Have you met Mr. Dyce?”

“What is your obsession with who’s met who?” she asked Franco. “What does it matter?”

“I want to meet them,” Franco said. “Everyone wants to meet their heroes.”

“Oh, God,” she groaned, turning her head away.

Suck their cocks why don’t you?

“They live here, right? Mr. Rourke and Mr. Dyce. Somewhere on campus?”

“Mr. Rourke’s house is a half mile away from here. It’s private. Accessible by invitation only.”

Internally, she scoffed, how often did that happen? Models weren’t exactly lining the halls.

“Right there,” Franco said, excited. “Bet we have the same zip code.”

The guy was crazy. Had he always been crazy? Why was she only noticing now?

“Does everyone agree with the plan?” Mieux asked, sticking to the itinerary. Good. At least someone was doing their job. “There will be time for food and refreshments when the other team arrives.”

“Let’s get to it,” Helena said. “We want to know this place backwards, so we can hit the ground running on Monday.”

“Excellent attitude,” Mieux said, turning her back to march on. “Please follow me.”

Follow her. Follow the new team. Suck up Rourke’s ass. Hmm. Why did it feel like she was failing already?