Read Online Color Me Grey: Book One of the Alexis Stanton Chronicles by J.C. Phelps - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J.C. Phelps
Tags: Chick lit, adventure, Contemporary, Action & Adventure, Action, ChickLit, Shades of Grey, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Women's Fiction, contemporary thriller, Womens, womens fiction chicklit, womens commercial fiction, Women spies, womens lit, womens literature, color me grey, contemporary fiction adventure, isbn 9780981769004, jc phelps, reflections of grey, women love, women snipers, women stories, women writers, womens stories
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pores. He
looked to be in his mid-thirties. I would have guessed him right at
6’ tall and about 180 pounds. He was wearing a black suede jacket
over a tight t-shirt and I could clearly see that he worked out. I
hadn’t seen so many buff men in my life as I had seen in the past
couple days. Still, Mr. Blue didn’t get under my skin like Rick
Malone did.
He popped a rap CD into the stereo and jacked
the volume. This ended all chance of conversation but that was fine
by me. I was busy worrying about who it was on the other side of
the camera lens watching my every move. I hope it wasn’t Mr. Blue.
I hoped it was Malone.
I didn’t know if I should let Mr. White know
that I knew his real name yet because I didn’t know why they used
aliases in the first place. My training had taught me not to
divulge information unless it was necessary. I decided to be polite
and wait it out.
We pulled up to the attendant at the parking
garage and he just waved us through. Mr. Blue parked in an open
spot with the letters BLUE spray-painted with blue spray paint on
the cement in front of the spot. I looked down the row and saw
WHITE, BLACK, GREEN, BROWN and RED all spray-painted in their
corresponding colors. The spots were filled with all types of
vehicles. The black Mustang was in front of WHITE. In BLACK was a
large black SUV. GREEN drove a little yellow Miata. BROWN had a
dark gray pickup in his spot. RED drove a red Camero.
I followed Mr. Blue through the lobby with
the shiny black marble and happened to notice he was carrying a gun
in a shoulder holster by way of the marble. He nodded to Mr.
Rent-a-Cop at the front desk.
“ Mr. Blue, Ms. Stanton,” desk security
said by way of greeting. This shocked me a bit. I had been here
once and the guy already knew my name and I hadn’t given it out. I
smiled a greeting back.
I got on the elevator with Mr. Blue and I was
glad he didn’t seem to be the talkative type. He stood in the
elevator in an “at ease/parade rest” position. His arms were
clasped behind him, his feet were perfectly in line with his
shoulders and he was looking straight ahead. He had no expression
on his face whatsoever. He would have made a great poker player. I
had always wanted to play poker professionally but I usually had a
cocky half grin on my face or I just looked mad. I could never get
my face to go void of all expression.
I felt butterflies flitting around in my
stomach now. I really want this job, I think. Actually, I’m not
sure if I want this job as much as I want to know what the job
is.
The elevator came to a stop and we walked
down the hall to Suite 73. I expected to see Gabriella sitting at
her desk, but it was empty.
“ She doesn’t come in until 8:00,” Mr.
Blue said. He walked straight for Mr. White’s door, opened it and
went in. My feet wanted to falter, but I made myself stay right on
his heels.
The office was dark and empty of people. I
had expected to see Mr. White and the rest of the colors when I
walked in.
Mr. Blue gestured to the desk, where Mr.
White had been sitting during my interview. “Sit here. You will
find everything you need on the desk. Someone will be back for you
later.” And he left.
The first thing I noticed on the desk was a
computer. I better leave that alone for now, I thought. There was a
stack of papers on the corner of the desk with a pencil on top.
I flipped through them and they were more
questionnaires like the ones I had already taken. I got to work on
them. There were a few questions that had me stumped. One that I
didn’t answer fully had to do with military ranking, of course. All
in all I think I did a good job. Filling it all out took me about
and hour and a half and still no activity other than me.
I sat for about five minutes thinking about
turning on the computer. I imagine Mr. White had cameras in his
office. What the hell, I thought.
I reached around back and switched it on and
prepared to snoop. No luck, it was password protected.
looked to be in his mid-thirties. I would have guessed him right at
6’ tall and about 180 pounds. He was wearing a black suede jacket
over a tight t-shirt and I could clearly see that he worked out. I
hadn’t seen so many buff men in my life as I had seen in the past
couple days. Still, Mr. Blue didn’t get under my skin like Rick
Malone did.
He popped a rap CD into the stereo and jacked
the volume. This ended all chance of conversation but that was fine
by me. I was busy worrying about who it was on the other side of
the camera lens watching my every move. I hope it wasn’t Mr. Blue.
I hoped it was Malone.
I didn’t know if I should let Mr. White know
that I knew his real name yet because I didn’t know why they used
aliases in the first place. My training had taught me not to
divulge information unless it was necessary. I decided to be polite
and wait it out.
We pulled up to the attendant at the parking
garage and he just waved us through. Mr. Blue parked in an open
spot with the letters BLUE spray-painted with blue spray paint on
the cement in front of the spot. I looked down the row and saw
WHITE, BLACK, GREEN, BROWN and RED all spray-painted in their
corresponding colors. The spots were filled with all types of
vehicles. The black Mustang was in front of WHITE. In BLACK was a
large black SUV. GREEN drove a little yellow Miata. BROWN had a
dark gray pickup in his spot. RED drove a red Camero.
I followed Mr. Blue through the lobby with
the shiny black marble and happened to notice he was carrying a gun
in a shoulder holster by way of the marble. He nodded to Mr.
Rent-a-Cop at the front desk.
“ Mr. Blue, Ms. Stanton,” desk security
said by way of greeting. This shocked me a bit. I had been here
once and the guy already knew my name and I hadn’t given it out. I
smiled a greeting back.
I got on the elevator with Mr. Blue and I was
glad he didn’t seem to be the talkative type. He stood in the
elevator in an “at ease/parade rest” position. His arms were
clasped behind him, his feet were perfectly in line with his
shoulders and he was looking straight ahead. He had no expression
on his face whatsoever. He would have made a great poker player. I
had always wanted to play poker professionally but I usually had a
cocky half grin on my face or I just looked mad. I could never get
my face to go void of all expression.
I felt butterflies flitting around in my
stomach now. I really want this job, I think. Actually, I’m not
sure if I want this job as much as I want to know what the job
is.
The elevator came to a stop and we walked
down the hall to Suite 73. I expected to see Gabriella sitting at
her desk, but it was empty.
“ She doesn’t come in until 8:00,” Mr.
Blue said. He walked straight for Mr. White’s door, opened it and
went in. My feet wanted to falter, but I made myself stay right on
his heels.
The office was dark and empty of people. I
had expected to see Mr. White and the rest of the colors when I
walked in.
Mr. Blue gestured to the desk, where Mr.
White had been sitting during my interview. “Sit here. You will
find everything you need on the desk. Someone will be back for you
later.” And he left.
The first thing I noticed on the desk was a
computer. I better leave that alone for now, I thought. There was a
stack of papers on the corner of the desk with a pencil on top.
I flipped through them and they were more
questionnaires like the ones I had already taken. I got to work on
them. There were a few questions that had me stumped. One that I
didn’t answer fully had to do with military ranking, of course. All
in all I think I did a good job. Filling it all out took me about
and hour and a half and still no activity other than me.
I sat for about five minutes thinking about
turning on the computer. I imagine Mr. White had cameras in his
office. What the hell, I thought.
I reached around back and switched it on and
prepared to snoop. No luck, it was password protected.
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