Mike didn’t turn around when the door to the library opened. He put aside the paper he read and lifted his head. Still not turning around, he said flatly, “Jamie.”
“You wanted to see me?”
He finally turned around. Standing at arm’s reach, the red-headed Irishman looked straight at him, unblinking, without looking down, without looking away. They both stared at each other for what seemed to be a long time,
Mike said, “I need you to keep Scott occupied Friday.”
“What’s on Friday?”
“We take out the robot. But don’t tell Scott.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“The less you know, the better.”
Jamie studied Mike. “This isn’t a trick, is it?”
“No.”
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not jealous?”
Mike inhaled, and straightened his shoulders. “Of course I’m jealous. But I have to be somewhere else and I need to keep Scott busy.” He advanced on Jamie. “As far as I know, there should be no problem with you keeping him preoccupied.”
Jamie again looked steadily at Mike. Mike stared at Jamie’s eyes, green eyes not unlike Scott’s used to be. When Jamie blinked, Mike turned back to the paper. “Friday, starting at 10 a.m. Keep him busy until I call you.”
“Right,” Jamie said. Mike heard him trudge across the carpet and up the stairs.
