Read Online Agents of the Glass by Michael D. Beil - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael D. Beil
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the story that she’s—I mean,
we’re
—working on.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Winter said. “She is
such
a bully. What’s the story? Is it interesting, at least?”
Remembering Jensen’s parting words, Andy played dumb. “About the changes in the library.”
“Yeah, she
is
in a tizzy about that, isn’t she? Well, she probably won’t let you do anything, anyway; she’s such a control freak. Do you want me to talk to Ms. Albemarle for you? I can’t promise, but I can probably get you assigned to somebody—
anybody—
else.”
But Andy was already too intrigued by Jensen and the library story to let it go. “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll stick it out. She’s not that bad.” When Winter eyed him skeptically, he added, “Okay, she’s a little intense.”
“A
little
? That’s like saying Einstein was a little bit intelligent. You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well, if I don’t see you, have a great weekend. If you have any questions, call me.” She handed him a business card that read
Winter Isabella Neale, Wellbourne Academy Broadcast Club,
followed by two phone numbers, an email address, her personal website, and her Twitter handle. The girl was connected.
“Wow, this is
nice,
” said Andy. “Does everybody get these?”
“No, I had them made up special.”
“Oh, right! I almost forgot—you’re the new anchor. Congratulations! I was in the control room for your audition, and as soon as you started, everyone was like, ‘Well, we can stop looking for an anchor right now.’ Even the janitor stopped working to watch. You looked like a real newsperson, and sounded like one, too. Where did you learn how to do that?”
“I guess I’m just lucky,” said Winter. “I was born with it.”
When the van pulled up in front of the Twenty-First Street Mission, the driver, who had remained silent during the trip, looked in the rearview mirror at Andy.
“This is the place, my man. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, does it? It ain’t exactly the Ritz. They’ll have coffee and bagels inside, if you’re hungry. Bagels are a little stale, but they’re free, you know what I mean?” He turned around and held out an enormous hand. “I’m Billy, by the way. Billy Newcomb. Pleasure.”
Andy gaped as his hand disappeared in Billy’s. “Hi, I’m Andy. I guess I’ll be seeing you around. Thanks for the ride.” He climbed out of the van and stood on the sidewalk for a moment before turning back to look at Billy. “Hey, I know you. You were a football player, right?”
“Guilty as charged. Seven years with the Browns, two with the Steelers. But I was nobody till I met these folks,” said Billy, getting out of the van. “But I hear you’ve had quite a couple of weeks yourself.”
Andy touched the remains of the scab on his forehead. “Yeah, I guess it’s been a little crazy.”
“Right on time,” said Silas, appearing, it seemed to Andy, from a crack in the sidewalk.
“Man! Where did you come from? Seriously, you have to stop doing that. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“I was standing here the whole time,” Silas teased. “Wasn’t I, Billy? Come on inside. We have a busy day ahead of us. I hope you got a good night’s sleep, Andy.”
“It was okay,” said Andy, still recovering from the shock.
Billy moved toward Silas as if to hug him but changed his mind when he saw the look on Silas’s face. “Oh, right. Sorry, my man.”
Silas motioned for Andy to follow him. “It’s time you learned a little about who you’re working for. The others are already here, so we can get started right away. Follow me.” He led Andy and Billy into a small room in the back, where he lifted the cover of a fake thermostat on the wall and punched a code into the keypad hidden inside. As Andy watched in wide-eyed wonder, Silas then tugged firmly on a bookcase, which swung open like a door to reveal a flight of stairs.
“Just like in those spy movies, huh?” said
we’re
—working on.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Winter said. “She is
such
a bully. What’s the story? Is it interesting, at least?”
Remembering Jensen’s parting words, Andy played dumb. “About the changes in the library.”
“Yeah, she
is
in a tizzy about that, isn’t she? Well, she probably won’t let you do anything, anyway; she’s such a control freak. Do you want me to talk to Ms. Albemarle for you? I can’t promise, but I can probably get you assigned to somebody—
anybody—
else.”
But Andy was already too intrigued by Jensen and the library story to let it go. “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll stick it out. She’s not that bad.” When Winter eyed him skeptically, he added, “Okay, she’s a little intense.”
“A
little
? That’s like saying Einstein was a little bit intelligent. You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well, if I don’t see you, have a great weekend. If you have any questions, call me.” She handed him a business card that read
Winter Isabella Neale, Wellbourne Academy Broadcast Club,
followed by two phone numbers, an email address, her personal website, and her Twitter handle. The girl was connected.
“Wow, this is
nice,
” said Andy. “Does everybody get these?”
“No, I had them made up special.”
“Oh, right! I almost forgot—you’re the new anchor. Congratulations! I was in the control room for your audition, and as soon as you started, everyone was like, ‘Well, we can stop looking for an anchor right now.’ Even the janitor stopped working to watch. You looked like a real newsperson, and sounded like one, too. Where did you learn how to do that?”
“I guess I’m just lucky,” said Winter. “I was born with it.”
When the van pulled up in front of the Twenty-First Street Mission, the driver, who had remained silent during the trip, looked in the rearview mirror at Andy.
“This is the place, my man. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, does it? It ain’t exactly the Ritz. They’ll have coffee and bagels inside, if you’re hungry. Bagels are a little stale, but they’re free, you know what I mean?” He turned around and held out an enormous hand. “I’m Billy, by the way. Billy Newcomb. Pleasure.”
Andy gaped as his hand disappeared in Billy’s. “Hi, I’m Andy. I guess I’ll be seeing you around. Thanks for the ride.” He climbed out of the van and stood on the sidewalk for a moment before turning back to look at Billy. “Hey, I know you. You were a football player, right?”
“Guilty as charged. Seven years with the Browns, two with the Steelers. But I was nobody till I met these folks,” said Billy, getting out of the van. “But I hear you’ve had quite a couple of weeks yourself.”
Andy touched the remains of the scab on his forehead. “Yeah, I guess it’s been a little crazy.”
“Right on time,” said Silas, appearing, it seemed to Andy, from a crack in the sidewalk.
“Man! Where did you come from? Seriously, you have to stop doing that. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“I was standing here the whole time,” Silas teased. “Wasn’t I, Billy? Come on inside. We have a busy day ahead of us. I hope you got a good night’s sleep, Andy.”
“It was okay,” said Andy, still recovering from the shock.
Billy moved toward Silas as if to hug him but changed his mind when he saw the look on Silas’s face. “Oh, right. Sorry, my man.”
Silas motioned for Andy to follow him. “It’s time you learned a little about who you’re working for. The others are already here, so we can get started right away. Follow me.” He led Andy and Billy into a small room in the back, where he lifted the cover of a fake thermostat on the wall and punched a code into the keypad hidden inside. As Andy watched in wide-eyed wonder, Silas then tugged firmly on a bookcase, which swung open like a door to reveal a flight of stairs.
“Just like in those spy movies, huh?” said
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