Ghost Writer (Our Cyber World Book 6) by Eduardo Suastegui

Author:Eduardo Suastegui [Suastegui, Eduardo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-05-12T04:00:00+00:00

21 » Gone Viral

While Bridget Suarez’s crew set up lights, reflectors and cameras, I head upstairs to make myself presentable. No time for a shower, Andre impressed on me. I wash up quickly, change into clean clothes, opting for black slacks and a solid top whose color falls somewhere between magenta and red. I look at myself in the mirror. Too much color on that blouse? Yeah, it will glow through the camera, max out the reds, as a producer once warned me. Should I trade it for something more subdued? No. I sense subtlety might not serve me best. Let me come out as fire hot as I can manage it.

Before I head downstairs, I peek through my bedroom window. In addition to Bridget’s, I count at least three more news vans. Two of them have already raised their antennas. The circus has arrived. Lucia’s doing, no doubt. Part of making this whole thing go viral, and maybe a way to dissuade the black suits from descending on me.

And sure enough, they’ve come, too.

Farther down the street, a black sedan and two black suits stand there. One of the men is talking into his cellphone, looking in my direction. I scan down to the other end of the street, and find a black SUV there. No suits stand by it, and I guess they sit inside, taking in the show through their tinted windows.

“Ready?” Andre whispers, holding up a thumb to coax the right answer.

“They’re here,” I whisper back. “And I don’t mean the news buzzards.”

He shrugs. “Being their predictable selves. They can’t help it.”

I stare into is calm hazel eyes. Totally predictable. Another day in the information transformation biz.

“They’re just monitoring,” Andre adds.

I eye Bridget, who’s frowning at her phone. She taps something on it, looks up at me, and gestures for me to approach.

I face Andre again. “When do they go from monitoring to something more?”

He grins. “It’ll take a lot.”

“Like the wrong question? The wrong answer? And they get the call to blitz the place?”

“Like I said. It’ll take a lot.” He winks.

Yeah, that confirms it. That’s the plan, another reason for Lucia to clue in the rest of the news media. To raise the threshold of what it will take for the black suits to storm the house and cart me away. No one wants to do that with cameras rolling, especially not with beautiful, once adored Vivian Matisse.

“Besides,” Andre adds, nudging his head toward Bridget. “She knows how to dance this pasodoble.”

I frown until I get his meaning. Pasodoble, the dance of the bull and the bullfighter. How poetic of Andre, gracing me with a touch of his heritage. I wonder which one he takes me for, the bull who will likely run out of the arena stabbed a million ways and bleeding, or the graceful bullfighter that, for all her evasions, might get gored nonetheless.

The image shakes me. But his eyes soothe me as well. He meant nothing more than a clever, ice-breaking witticism.

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