ask a bit more about him. “So you are obviously a very successful musician.”
He laughed and took another sip of his coffee. Minky sat straighter in her chair and the expression on her face ran through about five different options before she finally settled on what he thought was cautiously curious. She was getting easier and easier to read.
“Well, aren’t you a successful musician?” she pushed at him with just a slight impatient edge to her voice. He could tell she was mentally hopping between feet, hoping she hadn’t made a massive faux pas.
“I guess you could say I am a successful musician, from time to time.” With that remark, she opened her palms face up in a half exasperated, half encouraging gesture. “I was only filling in for the band last night. I do write or co-write a lot of their music but I don’t often perform.”
“Why not? You were so good last night. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t perform.”
It was an obvious question given the circumstances, but the answer wasn’t as clear-cut and he wasn’t quite sure yet just how much he should divulge.
“I have other talents and business interests that keep me pretty occupied so it becomes difficult to spend any real amount of time with the guys.” He took another sip of coffee and went on. “So we decided years ago that they would do the band thing and I would help out when I could. I’ve known all the guys since high school. I love music and writing it. This arrangement allows me to do both.”
Ah ha, she thought. That explained the easy rapport between them backstage. Rihanna’s curious nature took over and she pressed on. “So what does other talents and business interests mean?”
He looked her directly in the eye and paused, contemplating the options. He could either give her a bit more of the picture or he could keep skirting around with evasion and gross half-truths. Instinct told him Minky was a lady who liked to take her medicine straight up, screw up her nose, take a gulp of water and then get on with it. He hoped she felt the same about what he was about to tell her, otherwise he might just blow the whole assignment.
He must have contemplated too long because she pushed harder. “So are you going to tell me or not?” He could easily pick up from her body language and tone that the “not” part was something she wouldn’t tolerate.
“Rihanna, what I’m going to tell you could be a bit out there.” Her beautifully curved eyebrows shot skywards at his remarks. “So I would appreciate it if you would give me the chance to fully explain.”
Right now she was very curious and a healthy dose of caution had been shovelled on top for good measure. What sort of profession had a guy so worried about telling her? Oh God, it must be bad. Her mind whizzed through a dozen shady career options and couldn’t quite find one that she thought fitted.
Rihanna watched Brayden suck in a deep breath and continue.
“I work for a very exclusive and highly confidential agency that tackles particularly unpleasant issues. The agency calls itself the Centre.”
Well, that told her a lot, she thought. In her mind, he had just described the taxation department.
So far so good, he thought. “I have specialist training and talents that make me unique in my field, which is mainly assignments regarding the investigation and apprehension of drug, biological, environmental, chemical, and quarantine felons.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. You’re sort of like a policeman?” she qualified.
“Not quite. The work I do is so confidential and classified that only a handful of people in this country even know that the agency exists.” He was letting her process the additional information.
“So if the work you do is so secret, why are you telling me?”
He was watching her clever mind line up the pieces when he joined the dots for her. “You’re my current assignment.” There, he’d looked her straight in the eye and said it.
A
He laughed and took another sip of his coffee. Minky sat straighter in her chair and the expression on her face ran through about five different options before she finally settled on what he thought was cautiously curious. She was getting easier and easier to read.
“Well, aren’t you a successful musician?” she pushed at him with just a slight impatient edge to her voice. He could tell she was mentally hopping between feet, hoping she hadn’t made a massive faux pas.
“I guess you could say I am a successful musician, from time to time.” With that remark, she opened her palms face up in a half exasperated, half encouraging gesture. “I was only filling in for the band last night. I do write or co-write a lot of their music but I don’t often perform.”
“Why not? You were so good last night. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t perform.”
It was an obvious question given the circumstances, but the answer wasn’t as clear-cut and he wasn’t quite sure yet just how much he should divulge.
“I have other talents and business interests that keep me pretty occupied so it becomes difficult to spend any real amount of time with the guys.” He took another sip of coffee and went on. “So we decided years ago that they would do the band thing and I would help out when I could. I’ve known all the guys since high school. I love music and writing it. This arrangement allows me to do both.”
Ah ha, she thought. That explained the easy rapport between them backstage. Rihanna’s curious nature took over and she pressed on. “So what does other talents and business interests mean?”
He looked her directly in the eye and paused, contemplating the options. He could either give her a bit more of the picture or he could keep skirting around with evasion and gross half-truths. Instinct told him Minky was a lady who liked to take her medicine straight up, screw up her nose, take a gulp of water and then get on with it. He hoped she felt the same about what he was about to tell her, otherwise he might just blow the whole assignment.
He must have contemplated too long because she pushed harder. “So are you going to tell me or not?” He could easily pick up from her body language and tone that the “not” part was something she wouldn’t tolerate.
“Rihanna, what I’m going to tell you could be a bit out there.” Her beautifully curved eyebrows shot skywards at his remarks. “So I would appreciate it if you would give me the chance to fully explain.”
Right now she was very curious and a healthy dose of caution had been shovelled on top for good measure. What sort of profession had a guy so worried about telling her? Oh God, it must be bad. Her mind whizzed through a dozen shady career options and couldn’t quite find one that she thought fitted.
Rihanna watched Brayden suck in a deep breath and continue.
“I work for a very exclusive and highly confidential agency that tackles particularly unpleasant issues. The agency calls itself the Centre.”
Well, that told her a lot, she thought. In her mind, he had just described the taxation department.
So far so good, he thought. “I have specialist training and talents that make me unique in my field, which is mainly assignments regarding the investigation and apprehension of drug, biological, environmental, chemical, and quarantine felons.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. You’re sort of like a policeman?” she qualified.
“Not quite. The work I do is so confidential and classified that only a handful of people in this country even know that the agency exists.” He was letting her process the additional information.
“So if the work you do is so secret, why are you telling me?”
He was watching her clever mind line up the pieces when he joined the dots for her. “You’re my current assignment.” There, he’d looked her straight in the eye and said it.
A
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