"So, are you going to blindfold me or something? If this compound is as secret as you say, I imagine you wouldn't want me looking out the windows," I said as I climbed into the car. Roger climbed in after me and shut the door, obviously in no rush to answer my question.
"Back to the compound, please," he said, and the car began to drive. "As you have probably noticed, the windows are blacked out, and there's a partition between us and the driver's seat, so glancing at the windows shouldn't be an issue."
The next few minutes of silence were unbearable. I was nearly desperate enough to ask about the weather when Roger's phone rang, piercing the quiet atmosphere. "Hello. Yes, she's in the car. Add three points to her score for being clever and careful." I gave him a quizzical look, and he winked.
"Why? Because she was smart enough to not get into a stranger's car. Unlike the rest of them." I listened carefully to their conversation, trying to catch whatever bits of information I could.
"Well, she got into the car eventually. No, I didn't force her, of course not. I assume we will continue as planned?" He waited for a reply, and I looked around the interior of the car, pretending to be oblivious. "Excellent. See you soon." Roger ended the call and sighed.
"Three points?"
"We base our interviews off a point system. Believe it or not, very few of our potential trainees thought that there was a problem with getting into a stranger's car headed to God-knows-where," he replied, and I laughed.
"They probably fell for it because of the fancy car and suit. People tend to place their trust in that sort of thing—wealth, credentials—without any forethought whatsoever."
"I imagine you are correct," he mused, and we both fell silent.
"Trainees?" I asked, and Roger nodded.
"You won't be an intern, and the term 'employee' doesn't fit quite yet either. Besides, that's only assuming you get the job. We have a very competitive program here, Ms. Roberts."
I could tell Roger was getting tired of my questions, so I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the car ride. After what seemed like an eternity he car slowed to a halt, and a sudden, troubling thought occurred to me.
"Roger?"
"Yes, Ms. Roberts?"
"I never told you my name," I said, and he smirked.
"I know a lot more about you than just your name, Grace Amelia Roberts," he said, and I raised my eyebrows. "Off the top of my head I can recount your date of birth, age, the names of your siblings and your mother, your blood type, and your GPA. Not to mention the rest of your file that I only saw a glimpse of—"
"My file?"
"Oh yes. We have files on all our potential trainees," he said as he checked his watch. "We should be good to go by now."
Roger got out of the car, and I followed him. I blinked rapidly to adjust my eyes and found myself in a small, one car garage with white walls, no windows, and bright ceiling lights. A single white door stood protected by two men in dark suits, each equipped with a fully loaded hand gun. I felt bubbles of panic rising in my chest—what kind of interview requires fancy guards? Roger began to walk towards the door, but suddenly spun around, causing me to come to a sudden stop behind him.
"Ah yes, I nearly forgot. Before we proceed, I'm going to need to search you for any weapons or electronics," he said.
"Um... I assume it's mandatory?" I said, and Roger looked at me blankly.
YOU ARE READING
How to Keep a Secret
Romance"I know your type," he said, piercing me with his unwavering gaze, as if daring me to contradict him. "My type?" "You don't know where you're going, or what you want to do with your life. And yet you have such potential," he said, suddenly leaning f...
