Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Good morning,” Reg said to the guard at the front desk. “I’m here to meet Jeremy Jameson at K101.” When the guard furrowed his brow, Reg assumed he wasn’t giving enough information. Thankfully, he remembered the radio personalities’ names. “He’s with Tim and Tammy.”
“I know where he is.” The guard reached underneath the raised counter, and the sound of Jeremy’s voiced filled the large, open room for a second before the guard turned the radio back down.
“Perfect.” Reg pointed at the elevator bank. “So what floor should I go to?”
“The floor is locked this morning because of Mr. Jameson’s appearance.” The guard picked up a clipboard. “Are you on the list?”
From his tone, Reg gathered the guard assumed the answer was no, but he was going through the motions. His next move likely would be asking Reg to vacate the premises.
“I don’t know if I’m on there. My name’s Reggie Moore.” Reg leaned toward the clipboard.
Jerking away, the guard narrowed his eyes at Reg before raising the clipboard and making a show out of dragging his finger down the page and shaking his head. “You’re not one of the contest winners.”
“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t realize that was what you meant about a list.” He smiled, trying to get the man to relax. “I’m not one of the winners.”
“You don’t have a badge, so you don’t work for the station. If you’re not on the list of winners, I can’t let you up.”
Not wanting to cause a scene, Reg said, “I understand. I’ll wait over there”—he pointed to a group of armchairs on the other side of the elevator bank—“until Jeremy gets done. Thanks for your help.”
He turned around and got his phone out of his pocket, intending to text Jeremy to let him know where he was waiting.
“I can’t let you do that,” the guard said from behind him. Then he heard a chair rolling followed by footsteps.
“We need to keep the lobby secure. We can’t have fans here harassing Mr. Jameson.”
Being considered a security risk was new. Reg decided he’d take it as a compliment. Besides, he knew Jeremy would get a kick out of the story, which made the minor hassle worthwhile.
The guard stepped over to Reg’s side, put one hand over what looked like pepper spray attached to his belt, and pointed toward the door with his free hand. “I’m not sure how you found out they’re recording here today instead of at the normal studio, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave the building.”
After considering whether he should tell the guard he wasn’t packing a weapon and ultimately deciding that might make him sound more suspicious, Reg said, “I’m not a fan.” He paused. “Well, of course I’m a fan, but that’s not why I’m here.” He stepped away from the guard, not too far, but enough to get some personal space.
The guard looked Reg up and down, as if measuring his chances, and then tensed and reached for his radio, presumably to ask for help dealing with the Jeremy Jameson stalker in the lobby.
“Look, man, I know Jeremy’s here because he told me,” Reg explained. “I’m supposed to meet him here after his interview.”
“Jeremy Jameson told you he was here?” the guard said disbelievingly. “Why would he do that?”
“Because I’m his boyfriend, and we’re having breakfast together.” Reg took in a calming breath. Trying to neutralize the hostile situation, he added, “You know any good places around here?”
“His boyfriend?”
Reg nodded.
“Sir,” the guard sighed. “Do you have someone I can contact to come get you? A family member, maybe?”
Great. Now the man thought he was delusional. The situation was getting worse, but on the plus side, the story he’d be able to tell Jeremy was getting better.
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.” Reg shook his head and smiled at the ridiculousness of the situation. “You know what? I’ll get out of your hair and wait outside.”
“Loitering outside the building isn’t permissible either,” the guard insisted. “I’ll have to call the police.”
“I’m not loitering. I’m here to meet a person currently working in this building.” Reg rubbed the back of his head as he tried to figure out how to convince the guard he wasn’t a threat. “How about I call Jeremy’s manager, and he can tell you who I am?”
“Manager?”
“Yes.”
“How would I know who that is? You could call anyone and say he’s Jeremy Jameson’s manager.”
It was a fair point.
“All right. Next time, I’ll get a signed note from Jeremy giving me permission to see him. But for now, what are my options?”
“Like I said, you’re not on the list, and you don’t work in the building. The only option is for you to leave.”
Before Reg could argue again, his phone rang. He glanced down at his hand and saw Jeremy’s number. “Saved by the bell,” he said as he answered the call. “JJ, hey, sorry I’m not—”