The Key to Fear - Kristin Cast Page 0,66

begging, manipulating, to get information. It was nice not being the bad guy, the fall guy.

Guy.

That was interesting. The way guy infiltrated everything. Or man. Man was the same. Repairman. Fireman. Otherman. As if women were less than, an afterthought, or simply didn’t exist at all. It was a problem that had plagued mankind—there it was again—since as far back as any historic text cared to remember. But without womankind, there would be no mankind.

What had men been good for, anyway? A whole portion of the species who couldn’t reproduce. Yes, there is something to be said for the sperm and egg meeting, and the genetic diversity that asexual reproduction can’t provide, but wouldn’t it be better not having to deal with complete dickheadedness? Perhaps she could only pose the question because she was a product of two different races, and, therefore more genetically diverse than most. None of this, however, made the male sex superior, it simply made suffering fools a part of Blair’s destiny.

Maxine’s allergy-induced sniffle drew Blair’s attention back. “I would apologize,” Maxine said, “but …”

“You don’t feel you need to.” Blair’s brow lifted. “Good. Apologies are weakness and I won’t have that kind of filth floating around my workspace.”

Maxine’s spine straightened and her chin ticked up an inch. “You’re so very right.”

Blair was never quite sure how to respond to that statement. It was like stating that the sky is up above and the ground down below. Of course they were. And of course she was right. If she’d thought there was even a chance she could be incorrect, she never would have said anything.

“I am,” she finally said.

Blair glanced under her massive desk as she stretched out her legs, admiring the way her slim calves delicately sloped before her ankles. With a sigh, she wiggled her bare toes in the fuzzy rug.

Although having Denny as a Key Corp soldier would benefit both her brother and the citizens of Westfall, Blair couldn’t be seen advocating on behalf of young Denny. That was Cath’s job as director of Career Services.

Director of Career Services. Blair chortled. Another example of a task she could perform better than her adoptive mother. Blair should really relax about the MediCenter directorial position. She was truly the best option. She might as well have been the only option.

But they could always give it to Cath …

Blair shook her head.

Denny. That’s who this was about. Her poor lost little brother. The only man who’d earned her love, her trust. The one that all men should be fashioned after. Sweet, sweet Denny …

As always, Blair would have to pick up the slack.

She drummed her fingers along the metal-studded armrest and focused on the bare wall behind Maxine. Blair had created something from nothing before. She’d created herself, hadn’t she? Sure, her parents’ titles and Cath’s titles had helped, but she’d done all the real work, all the hard work. All she needed now was that same tiny edge, just the slightest handhold …

Blair pressed her palms against her desk and pushed herself from her chair. “Maxine, did you see Major Owens in the Zone Seven video?”

Major Rhett Owens arrived at Blair’s office twenty-two minutes later. His custom-made Key Corp–red officer’s jacket accentuated the thickly coiled muscles and tapered waist that his fire-retardant Zone Seven uniform had swallowed up. Blair’s gaze slid from the towering officer to her petite blond assistant and back again. The three of them could make quite the trio, two gorgeous blonds flanking her like porcelain bookends.

Blair leaned against the side of her desk and motioned to the chair across from her. “Would you like to sit, Major? Or were you planning on leaving us?”

Rhett strode over, unbuttoned his coat, and stiffly lowered himself into the chair. “Not at all. It’s an honor. A real honor. When your girl, Maxie, reached out—”

“Maxine,” the assistant corrected as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Or should I call you Maj Owe?”

Blair’s eyebrow rose. “Ms. Wyndham,” she insisted, after a brief struggle to recall her assistant’s surname. Normally Blair wouldn’t care whether Maxine was addressed by her first or last name. It was her assistant’s name and therefore her assistant’s decision. But this wasn’t about Maxine’s name. No, this was about power. About laying a strong, unshakable foundation. If Rhett was going to work for her, he would know who was in charge.

Rhett’s temples flexed with a quick clench of his jaw. “When Ms. Wyndham called, I thought to myself, You’re finally getting the