JC exited OKTO with a feeling of foreboding. As if she had left safety behind her, inside the bubble of the three nights she'd spent under Kepler's roof, while the rest of her life—her real life up until now—was full of dangers she couldn't completely comprehend. Darn Kepler and his precautious nature! She stole a glance at his window and thought she caught a glimpse of his mask.
The "Bond Girl" had sounded a bit weird today. She had found her at the elevator, 'ambushed' her might have been a better word, whereupon she started an awkward conversation/lecture about how important Kepler's job was and how OKTO and all its employees were counting on him at least till Spencer was back. JC patiently listened to her while inwardly a whole different conversation took place. In that "parallel universe" JC was not the brunette with the backpack and the unruly hair sticking out all over her head who was silently nodding her agreement and understanding. On the contrary, she was the talkative one. She was the one informing Rebecca that she had heard Spencer 28 hours ago—maybe less—and she had serious doubts about his state of mind. If her professional opinion was requested, OKTO would need Kepler far after Spencer was back in the picture again. As a conclusion, she'd casually ask Rebecca her secret for her long, unbelievably straight and glossy, midnight black hair.
In the real world, JC said and asked nothing of the kind. She just kept nodding until Rebecca had had her say and escorted her to the car parked outside. The SUV's dark windows didn't allow her to see inside. Rebecca mumbled something and turned to leave. Deep down, JC understood the woman. Her employer was about to risk his life in six weeks' time, scraping his face off, and his partner was who-knows-where while all kind of unknown villains possibly watched them. In her shoes, in Rebecca's super expensive designer shoes, JC would have started sending out her CV long ago.
All thoughts of Rebecca instantly disappeared when the driver's door opened and a tall man with hollow cheeks strode round to open the back door for her. So much for the "caring boyfriend" story. Radek Alionin was acting like a freshly-hired chauffeur even though he wasn't dressed like one. JC took a good look at his loose jeans and the short-sleeved heavy-metal band T-shirt. The man surely came from Poland! Here was one guy who really enjoyed London weather.
"You must be Radek. I'm JC."
She smiled at him, raising her hand for a handshake. It was awkward. Radek looked at it for a while, probably wondering about etiquette, gripped it and gave her a quick, strong shake while taking the backpack from her other hand at the same time. His attempt to smile ended in a weird grimace.
"No, I'll keep this, thank you." She grabbed her bag back from his grasp, turning her eyes to Kepler's window again. He was looking at them. She sent him an accusing glance, narrowing her eyes—he was responsible for all this—and sat in the back seat. Radek closed her door, stealing a peek at his boss himself.
The ride was silent and JC found that a relief. She needed time to adjust from OKTO to BDS rhythms. She smiled at herself. It was as if JC's whole life was sandwiched between abbreviations.
She winced when Radek exited the car. They were at BDS and the last thing she needed was for someone to treat her like royalty. She quickly opened her door and met him on the pavement.
"I will open the door myself." She tried to pick easy words for him to understand. "Always." She wanted to be clear. JC expected him to nod but he only blinked. Talk about a pride overdose….
"I will send you a message." She didn't risk explaining more. Michael from the first floor was stalling at the entrance talking to a guard. Who said only women loved to gossip? They hadn't met Michael. "Around eight?" JC showed him the eight on her watch. She took a step back and watched him make the round to his seat. Red streaks glinted in his brown, wavy hair and JC made a mental note to check whether it was dyed.
"Lean as a knife." The same Virginia Woolf phrase came to mind as it did the very first moment she saw him. JC didn't remember who Woolf was describing but the phrase had struck her. It wasn't that Radek was unearthly thin or anything. He seemed strong and sturdy. It mostly had to do with his posture, the way he carried himself. There was an aggressive aura around him, very evident in the way he kept his body straight, his shoulders straightened. At first, she had thought it was because Kepler was watching him, but now? It was as if he were on edge. Was it a bodyguard's trait?
JC easily pushed the thought away as Michael smiled at her and entered the building. He knew he'd catch her at the elevator. She knew it, too.
"I must have underestimated how uncomfortable that couch was. This is a joke, isn't it?" JC twirled round to get a whole view of the parqueted living room. The dizzying feeling was not caused by the sudden movement. Her eyes searched for Kepler, who was meticulously reading the piece of paper he'd retrieved from the file he carried. The apartment keys were still in his hand.
"Okay, I got it," he was talking more to himself. "This is one of the two options we have. It's not easy on such short notice—" He moved around turning on lights with JC following his every step. "It's supposed to have a 'spacious, fully-equipped kitchen'—" It had. As a matter of fact, the kitchen was larger than her apartment. He left the keys and the file on the worktop and opened a couple of drawers. "I like these better than mine." He turned to her casually. "Glossy and chrome cabinets are a nightmare." JC could understand why he disliked reflections and mirror-like surfaces in his apartment. At any other moment, she'd have cherished the fact that he was open enough about it, but now….
Overwhelmed. That was the word she was looking for. She let him guide her to the upper floor and the master bedroom with the corniced ceiling, the en suite bathroom and the hand-painted tiles. She didn't comment on the king size four poster bed or the small roof terrace balcony. She didn't utter a word upon seeing the other two bedrooms with their bathrooms—one bathroom each. Or the marble fireplaces, or the small kitchenette with the dumbwaiter connecting it to the main kitchen. It made sense. If you want breakfast in bed, why should you have to carry it?
JC followed him like a zombie, her previous good mood totally ruined. When he had first suggested a ride she was delighted. The ride had lasted less than three minutes—it took them more to go to OKTO's underground parking and park again at the off-street parking of this "named" house. JC growled. The house had its own name for God's sake!
She understood that he preferred to drive instead of just walk the distance, she comprehended his need for privacy and…a bed to sleep in at nights, she even realized the reasons she shouldn't stay at OKTO more than was absolutely necessary. But this house, this two-storey apartment was incomprehensible.
"Don't be like this." His order had a hint of pleading or JC chose to hear it that way.
"Like what?" she growled again.
"You seem ready to storm out of here."
It wasn't that the thought hadn't crossed her mind. The only thing that kept her from it was good manners. She knew he'd have followed her down the street and he wouldn't enjoy a second of it.
"It's too much for me. The tennis court in Wales was less surreal than this." She wasn't making any sense but she didn't care. She descended the stairs, almost running, and moved to the kitchen, opening one cabinet after the other trying to find a glass. A gloved palm on her hand stopped her.
"Let me." He moved away and JC sank into a chair, studying her uplifted palms on the wood plank dining table. She'd never noticed how large his palms were. Her hand had disappeared under his. Soon, a glass of water was placed before her. She drank, embarrassed by her trembling hand.
"This is way out of my league."
"That's pure nonsense. You should never talk about yourself…. Never think like that. There is nothing 'out of your league'." He sat in the chair beside her.
"You don't understand. I can't live in this house! Did you see that bed?"
"I can't deny it, it's a heavy piece of furniture." He stretched to grab the papers he'd left on the countertop and JC found herself unsurprisingly distracted. It wasn't the muscles that caused this sudden lack of concentration, even though she appreciated every one of them. It wasn't a matter of physicality even, though Kepler had a powerful physical presence. She had thought about it thoroughly during dinner—the dinner she had eaten alone while he was watching her—and came to the only logical conclusion: she was fascinated. "Enthralled" might be a better word to describe it. She found everything about Kepler captivating and his mask, his black outfit, his gloves only enhanced the mystery. The fact that there wasn't any mystery didn't elude her. She had seen photos of his face, she knew what he looked like but the mere fact that he still didn't want her to see him meant only trouble for her. She regarded it as a kind of unspoken promise between them: to see him she had to give him a new face.
Was it pride, vanity, a sense of control over himself that made him act like that? She didn't know. What JC knew after three days under Kepler's roof was that moving away from his apartment was crucial for her sanity. She looked at the "spacious" kitchen—if only she cooked! —and it still looked humongous.
"It's supposed to be a hand-carved mahogany bed." Kepler was still reading the papers. "Did you notice any 'claw feet'?"
JC growled and let her head fall on the table. At least that was a nice piece. It felt cold under her flushed cheek. Inviting. She closed her eyes and stroked the planks with her fingers. They seemed rough but they were surprisingly smooth to touch.
"I guess the table stays—" His husky voice forced her eyes to open. He had turned to the next page.
"For God's sake, who lived here?" she exclaimed. "What kind of people bought all this? Did you see the bathtub upstairs?"
"The one in the master bedroom?"
"That one."
"While at first I found the idea of a glass tub unexpectedly arousing, then, like you, I thought of the owners. I wouldn't welcome the sight of just anyone in that tub. I think the landlord is a bit of an exhibitionist." JC couldn't restrain a smile at the hint of disgust in his voice. She wondered whether there were photos of the owners in that file. "Let's think of the bed as a decorating inconsistency—"
"That's hardly my problem, Kepler," she interrupted him. "No matter the taste, all this stuff is very expensive. I couldn't live here!"
"It's a matter of habit." He was adamant.
"I'd be anxious all day not to spill anything on that rug or that sofa."
"There's insurance for damages. You'll get used to—"
"I can't get used to this!" He said nothing but his stare was challenging her. "I know there are worse things in life than having to get used to such luxury," she tried not to sound like a spoiled brat, "Who on earth is so filthy rich as to spend so much money on a house?"
"Don't think of them as the people who own this house. Think of them as people who were forced to rent it out." JC pursed her lips to withhold a snarky comment. "Have you ever dreamed of marrying a filthy rich man and having a couple of kids with him? This could very well be your house."
"No. I'll never have kids and I don't dwell in silly fantasies." She was adamant now and to his credit he didn't pursue this more. He wouldn't get an answer anyway.
"Okay, let's review the pros and cons. I'm afraid the other place is larger than this," he checked his papers, "four bedrooms, marble floors—"
"I don't dare to see the other place. I don't even know how I am going to keep this one clean."
"The cleaners visit once a week on Wednesday afternoons," he read, pointing at a paragraph. "I'm sure you can change the day if you want to. I won't lie to you, Christine. This one suits me fine. The location is perfect—" His voice trailed off.
JC couldn't contradict him. She doubted there were any cheap apartments anywhere near OKTO and since OKTO was paying…. The last thing she needed at the moment was another declaration of her independence smashed against Kepler's wall of arguments about safety.
"And if this may count for something," he walked to the living room, "I took the liberty of having that little thing installed." He uncovered a ceiling contraption she hadn't noticed before and just like that, with a few moves, there was a swing in the middle of the living room.
"I noticed you had one at your apartment." "Noticed" was certainly a euphemism but his choice of words or his hacking into her computer were the last things on her mind at the moment. Her eyes watered up and JC approached the varnished wooden seat. She grabbed the thick chain, testing its strength.
"I hope it's not something kinky." He used her teasing words from last night and his humour to defuse the awkwardness of the moment. JC could only be grateful.
She shook her head in denial, not trusting her voice yet. Sitting on the seat, she took a few steps backwards. JC set her foot on the floor and stopped herself just before she reached him when the swing was allowed to move forwards. In her apartment, despite the lack of furniture, actual swinging was limited.
"The swinging helps me think," she muttered. "I know it sounds crazy." She looked at him towering over her.
"It doesn't."
"I like it. I think I can live here…for a while—" Her restless feet were ready for one more swing but his gloved hand on the chain was holding her in place. "Not that I have a clue how I am supposed to justify all this—"
"You'll find something. How about house-sitting for a friend?"
"My life is full of surprises lately. A jealous boyfriend not allowing me to go to work alone, a billionaire's house to house-sit." Many jaws would drop at work if she cared to explain. Thankfully, she didn't care.
"You don't have a car. If your boyfriend could afford it wouldn't it be nice of him to provide a driver?"
"A new scenario then: a new, super-nice, caring boyfriend and a filthy-rich friend. At least, I know how that story ends." She regretted the bitter tone in her voice. Now, he did wait for her to say more. "The same way all relationships end regardless of money: with cheating and plenty of lying." She sounded cynical but she only meant to be honest. She was a big girl with a solid relationship with reality. "I've been cheated and lied to, Kepler. Believe me, that's not the worst thing one can face in a relationship."
Kepler had just sat on his bed when the phone rang. He was still smiling at the somewhat feminine way Christine had made the bed this morning—she had folded the duvet on the top to provide a tiny view of the pillows underneath. He checked the caller ID and didn't bother to restrain a yawn as he answered his cell phone. If Dylan was in the mood to talk he was unlucky. He could hardly keep his eyes open and all he could see was that he was inches away from his pillow.
"JC Goodman's father is dead. They just called me from the clinic."
"Shit." He wasn't sure he said this out loud. "Give me ten minutes and let them notify Miss Goodman."
This is the last part of Chapter 7 in the book.
Yesterday, I got an email informing me that "in October Barnes & Noble was forced to shut down its systems to defend against a cyber-attack. Though B&N has been successfully bringing all of its systems back online, the process is taking quite a bit of time".
My first question was "Kepler, was that one of your friends?" I got no reply. ;-)
Seriously now, I want to thank all of you who purchased a copy of Kepler's Web on Amazon or the other platforms.
I love to hear your thoughts and read your reviews wherever you can add them.
Don't forget to check on FB the photos from my research about this apartment (alexandra Rivers 3760) The kitchen, the bathtub... ;-)
(And no, in case you wondered I did not describe my apartment. :-P)
Last but certainly not least: STAY SAFE(!) and take care of yourselves! My heart and thoughts go to all COVID patients-stay strong, have patience and fight the darn virus. The rest of you, stay away from it! Let's protect each other.
Thank you all for your support and especially TOWDNWTBN and Vale... for everything!