Undercover (Hot Off The Press) Book 1 Read Free

up and running in twelve days. And the pipeline should be done before the winter,” one of the senior execs explains. “That should allow us to complete the project six weeks ahead of deadline.”
     
    “Who is that?” a deep-voiced man asks. The voice sounds so big and so booming that I just know it belongs to Mr. Rex himself. I see someone tap my leg. I look at the person tapping my leg, it is the short-haired woman. Her face is nearly white. I look over at the center of the room and see this tall, imposing man staring right at me. His deep brown eyes penetrate right through my body. It is him. It is Mr. Rex. The T-Rex is staring right at me.
     
    What should I do? I am not to speak unless spoken to. But Mr. Rex is not talking to me. He is talking about me. No one is answering and Mr. Rex is staring directly at me expecting an answer. I clear my throat and say, “My name is uh,” I mumble before realizing that I was going to mention my real name. “My name is Vanessa London. I am one of your new assistants,” I say in a voice that makes me sound more like a scared little girl.
     
    Mr. Rex’s massive build, thick arms and huge chest moves towards me. The T. Rex extends his hand towards me. I quickly stand up. I extend my hand. He shakes it. “My name is Trent Rex. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he says in a polite yet firm manner. The very act of physical contact nearly stops my heart. My legs feel like they are about to come out from under me. I stumble back into my chair and continue to take notes.
     
    Mr. Rex works his way around the room interrogating his managing directors about all aspects of Rex Industries’ major projects. Everyone is on their toes. My hand works overtime as I take about six pages worth of short-hand. Right before noon, the meeting breaks up. “I want an update on the Asia operations at 8:00 p.m.,” Mr. Rex barks before everyone leaves the office.
    The short-haired woman looks at me and asks me, “You don’t mind covering the 8:00 p.m. meeting?”
     
    “Not at all!” I say excitedly.
     
    “Good,” she says with a smile. We head back into the elevator. “You handled yourself well,” she adds.
     
    “I wasn’t expecting him to even notice me.”
     
    “Mr. Rex notices everything,” the short-haired woman says as we make it back to the 81st floor.
     
    I return to my desk excited that I’m going to meet Mr. Rex again. As I look over my shorthand chicken scratches, I try my best to transcribe the meeting notes into a comprehensive memo. After working through lunch, the meeting notes are done at around 2:30. The short-haired woman comes over to my desk. After looking over my desk, she compliments my through note-taking.
     
    “You are really good at this,” she says.
     
    “Thanks,” I say. I was about to mention my experience as a college journalist before I stop myself.
     
    “By the way, my name is Amy,” she says as she takes my notes. “Make sure you destroy your handwritten notes in the ‘dead room.’”
     
    “What’s the ‘dead room?’” I ask with a perplexed and intrigued look on my face.
     
    “Oh that’s right. You’re new up here. Come on,” Amy says as she walks me away from the assistants’ area. We head to a closed door. Amy pulls out her “gold card” and presses it against a scanner. “You use your Restricted Access card to get inside,” Amy explains as a green light indicates an unlocked door. Amy opens the door. We walk inside a small room lit only by ambient lighting. We walk up to a strange looking shredder. “You place all of your meeting notes inside this shredder. A laser scanner will burn all the ink off of the paper before shredding and destroying all contents. This is very important. No meeting notes are to ever leave this building.”
     
    “Understood,” I say as I place the handwritten notes into the machine. I listen to the laser burning the ink off of the paper. Then I hear the shredder’s blades do their handiwork.