by Emma Shortt
Meg didn’t see what she could do about it, though. She liked spending time with Chance. She liked kissing him. She liked the way he sighed her name. She wanted to do all those things with him again and again. It was just a week to the day since they’d met, and Meg was well on her way to an intense infatuation. She couldn’t begin to imagine what she might feel like in a month’s time.
He was waiting for her opposite the coffee shop where their meeting was taking place. He wore loose jeans and a moss-green sweater. They looked good on him. Meg was not the only person to think so. A group of passing women all gave him the eye. Chance did not seem to notice. Meg grinned and hurried across to him. Her legs ached. She tried her best to ignore them.
“Chance.”
“Blue.”
He pulled her into his arms and, and just as there had been over the weekend, there was a hesitancy to his actions that made Meg’s chest tighten. Chance was such a contradiction. Looking the way he did, having the job that he did, she’d assumed that he would be confident with women. Only, he wasn’t. There was almost an element of awkwardness about the way that he kissed and touched her. Meg liked it.
“You look very pretty, Blue,” he said once they pulled apart.
Meg had put quite a bit of thought into her outfit. She wore tight jeans, a chunky cream sweater, and a pair of bright yellow DMs. They were a Christmas present from Kate, and she was now thinking of them as her post-exercise shoes, because there was no way in hell she could have worn heels with her legs aching so bad. “You saw this outfit this morning. And pretty? Why always pretty? Why not beautiful?”
He reached out and stroked a finger along her cheekbone. “Beauty is for mathematics.”
Meg shivered. “Chance…”
Did he say these things just for her? Did he look them up? Or was there more to it than that? Something nudged at the edges of Meg’s consciousness again. It was on the very tip of her tongue.
He gestured to the coffee shop. “Shall we?”
It disappeared. Meg sighed. It would come. She knew it would. It was just like a math problem. It teased and teased before revealing itself. “Yes. I need a latte. I can’t make them at home.”
Chance laughed at that. “Blue, you can’t make any kind of coffee at home.”
She shot him a look. “You didn’t like my coffee?”
“That’s a rhetorical question, right?”
“I need to get one of those machines.”
“I have a spare one at home. I’ll bring it over.”
“So you can have your morning coffee?” she asked, even as his words delighted her. “You’re assuming you’re going to be spending time at my place?”
“Hoping, not assuming.”
He reached out and he took her hand. Their fingers entwined. Meg’s entire body seemed to melt like she was in a fucking movie or something. It was such a simple thing. Holding hands as they walked down the street, but Meg had never wanted to do that with anyone else in the way that she did with Chance.
“Staking your claim?” she asked, more in an effort to lighten the situation than anything else.
“Absolutely,” Chance said as he shot her a smile. “I’ve never walked down the street holding a woman’s hand. Never really wanted to before you.”
“Seriously?”
He stopped, right there in the middle of the street. A group of people had to walk around them. Chance didn’t seem to notice. He tugged her to him. Meg went willingly. The moment their bodies pressed against each other Meg understood all over again why she had let so much slide with him. This. It was as if her body recognized his. Like it had been waiting.
“There are lots of things I need to explain to you,” he said softly. “Things that I haven’t been totally honest about. Too many things.” He reached out with his free hand and placed it against her cheek. “But I have never lied to you about the way you make me feel, Blue. Never.”
“Chance…”
“You make me…happy. Being with you makes me happy.”
Such simple words but they made Meg melt once more. Happiness was not something to be taken lightly. It was such a tricky thing, especially when there was another person involved. She leaned in to his touch. She wanted to say something equally as heart-melting back to him, but she couldn’t seem to find the words. Instead, she squeezed his hand. “Jinx.”
The coffee shop was busier than usual. A Magic: The Gathering meet was being held inside. It was, of course, full of nerds. The one they were looking for, Jared, was talking to a cute barista with multiple piercings and a shock of silver hair. Meg approved.
“Meg!” he said as they approached. “You look even cuter than you did on competition day.”
The barista arched his brow at that. Meg gave him a helpless shrug. Jared was an equal opportunities flirt.
“How are you, Jared?”
“Good, good,” he said before reaching out to—Meg presumed—finger a strand of her hair; he’d done so multiple times at the competition. “It’s the hair,” he said. “I swear it’s the hair.”
Meg gave him a grin even as she took a step back. “This is Chance.”
Chance gave the other man a sharp nod. “Her boyfriend.”
If Meg’s stomach had flipped when Chance had taken her hand, it practically tumbled with those words. Boyfriend? Boyfriend? Were they there already? Surely, they’d had several more dates and several more sessions between the sheets to go before they could use those terms.
Jared dropped his hand. “Oh. Shit, man, didn’t mean to step on any toes.”
“You didn’t step on any toes,” Meg said.
Chance didn’t look like he agreed with that. Meg quickly gestured to one of the only free tables in the corner. “Shall we grab a seat?”
“I’ll bring drinks,” Jared said.
Chance moved over to the other man. “I’ll give you a hand.”
Meg nodded and lopped her way over to the table. She took the middle seat, leaving room for one man on either side of her. She watched them as they collected the drinks from the barista. Chance was saying something. Whatever it was, it made Jared smile. Jared gestured to the barista. The other man passed a card across the counter. Given what was happening here this evening, Meg thought it was probably a Magic: The Gathering card. Why would Chance be interested in that? She watched him as he turned the card around in his hand. He said something else to Jared. The three of them laughed. Meg couldn’t help but smile. She’d wondered over the last few days how Chance would do with the sort of people she spent most of her time with. If this was anything to go by, he’d do just fine.
She was still smiling as the drinks were placed on the table. Meg’s latte had a chocolate heart sprinkled atop it. She wondered if Chance had asked for that. She wrapped her hands around the mug, a warm feeling bubbling in her stomach.
“This is about X-Tech?” Jared asked as he took the seat on her right.
“We have a few questions about the competition,” Chance replied.
They were the same ones that Chance had asked the other attendees. Meg let him get on with it, content enough to sip her drink and listen to Jared’s answers. Like Meg, he had never heard from X-Tech after the competition or seen anything to suggest that they had any further interest in his work. He wasn’t particularly annoyed about it, though.
“I didn’t think it was a waste of my time,” he eventually said. “I met a few interesting people.” He gave Meg a wink.
Chance shook his head. Meg was pleased to see that he was smiling. “Thanks for talking with us, anyway.”
“My pleasure.” Jared turned to Meg. “I would appreciate your help with something, though, seeing as you’re here. I had something strange happen a couple of weeks ago. I wonder what your take on it is.”
Meg was intrigued. “Go ahead.”
Jared pushed his drink aside. “Someone got into my files.”
“Into your files?”
“God knows how,” Jared said. “No one’s s
een what’s on my hard drive, or my browser history for that matter, since I was thirteen, and my mom figured out my password. She’s never admitted how she managed it.” He shook his head. “Since then, my computer, my files, my cloud storage, it’s all been locked tighter than Rory’s pants.”
“Rory?”
Jared hiked a thumb behind him at the barista.
“Do you know when it happened?” Chance asked.
“Sure, sure. I have an alert. Built it myself. It was actually what I pitched to X-Tech. It’s a hell of a security feature. I’d never have known that anyone had been in there without it. Alerted me the moment someone entered my file store by flashing a message on here.”
He held up his wrist. His fitness tracker was a much better model than hers. He had over twenty-eight thousand steps. Meg wondered what version it was even as her mind raced over what Jared was saying. Had someone gotten into her system in the same way? But then, she’d checked and she’d checked, Kate had too, and they hadn’t seen a damn thing to suggest anyone had pilfered her data.
“You have the date and time?” Chance asked. He leaned forward on the table. He was frowning. Meg shot him a look, realizing then that he seemed…concerned.
“To the second.”
“Did you trace them?”
Jared shook his head. “Impossible, man. I got the alert the moment they were in, but they were gone in a flash. I tried to follow their trail, but it’s not really my skill set. My work is around keeping people out, not following them after the fact.”
“Do you know what they took?” Chance continued.
“They could have copied every file on my system for all I know. There was no way to tell. They left nothing behind.” He frowned. “Well, actually, that’s not true. There was one thing left behind. A calling card, I guess. A hidden calling card. I had to dig really deep to find it.”
Chance’s voice was sharp. “What was it?”
“The strangest thing,” Jared said. “A pixelated stop sign.”
Chance’s hands were on his lap. Because of that, Meg saw them clench once and then again. There was a sudden tension in the air. Meg felt it. She looked at Jared, wondering if he’d picked up on it. He was casting glances at Rory, a slight smile playing around his lips. She shifted slightly to look at Chance. He was pale. Unease shot down Meg’s spine. Automatically, she reached out and took one of his clenched hands.
“Wasn’t there a dude dropping those all over the Net about a decade ago?” Meg said slowly, her eyes on Chance as she said it.
“There was,” Jared said. “He, she, whoever they were, they disappeared years ago. They never found an identity. Thing is, my computer doesn’t have any of the creepy stuff the stop sign was taking down.”
“That’s weird,” Meg said. Chance still looked pale.
“Damn right, it is,” Jared replied. “What’s even weirder is that they were able to get into my shit in the first place. Not to brag but my security is the best.”
“Perhaps we could take a look at your computer,” Chance suggested, and there was something in his voice…something…
Jared laughed. “I’m good. I just wanted Meg’s opinion. You’ve never heard of anything like this before? Seen any posts anywhere? I’ve looked around. Nada.” He paused. “If someone did steal my shit, they haven’t leaked a word anywhere about it. The moment they do I’ll be on them with a lawsuit. Already spoken to my lawyer about it.”
“Copyright is difficult to prove in our world,” Meg said.
“Sure, sure,” Jared said. “But I’ll be waiting, watching. You’ll let me know if you hear anything?”
“Of course.”
“We’ll do that,” Chance said.
But he wouldn’t, in that moment, Meg knew that he wouldn’t, because Chance knew who it was. Whoever had found their way into Jared’s system, and maybe hers too, Chance recognized them…and maybe even how they were connected to X-Tech.
They shared a few more words with Jared before he wandered back to Rory. The moment he was gone, Meg turned to Chance.
“Chance, are you okay?”
He gave her a shaky sort of smile. “I’m fine.”
“You look pale,” she said.
“It’s been a long day.” He paused. “Blue, I need to head off.”
Meg started. “Head off? Now? To where? We need to discuss what Jared just told us. If someone got into his system, that someone might have gotten into mine, too. This could be our first break in the case. If they left a hidden stop sign on my computer…” She shook her head. “It must be buried deep, but if we can find it, if we can trace it…”
“I know,” he said. “But there’s something I need to take care of first.”
“Something?” Meg gritted her teeth. “Is that something tracking down the stop sign guy?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Chance—”
He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her open lips. He tasted of coffee.
“I’ll never get sick of kissing you,” he said as he pulled away.
Meg was confused. She was annoyed. She was frustrated. What the hell was going on here and why couldn’t Chance just tell her the truth! All the secrets he was keeping to himself. All the information he was hiding away. Why was it necessary? What was so important that he couldn’t be honest?
“Chance…”
He pulled his hand out of hers and leaned back so that he could look right into her eyes. “Have you heard of the Promise Problem?” he asked.
“Of course,” Meg said. It had applications in her world. Computational applications.
“Think of it like that,” Chance said. “I promise that my desire for you will always fall into every possible category. Yes, no, and everything in between.”
“Chance…” she began, because he was confusing her all over again, but he waved her words away.
“Not something a PI would say?”
“Computational complexity theory?” Meg shook her head. “You know it isn’t.”
“I know.”
“You constantly surprise me, Chance,” she added. “Constantly frustrate me.” She rubbed her head. “You know who Jared is talking about. You know who got into his system. You have the answer to this entire fucking puzzle. I know you do.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t lie to me, Chance,” Meg snapped. “Not again. Not after this weekend. Be honest with me. Tell me what’s really happening here.”
“I will,” he said. “As soon as I figure it out.”
“We can figure it out together,” Meg said, and there was the thing, teasing her all over again. What the hell was it?
He smiled even as he stood up and away from his chair, even as he began to leave. There was something in that smile that made Meg uneasy in a way that she hadn’t been before now.
“I wish we could,” he said. “Believe me I do. But we both need answers, Blue. I’m going to get them for us.”
“Chance—” she began, but he cut her off.
“Trust me, Blue,” he said. “Please, trust me.”
And with that, he was gone. Meg watched him leave, watched him go to wherever it was he thought he should go. Did she think about going after him? No, she did not, because one thing was clear to Meg then. Clear in a way that made absolute sense. Even if she did trust Chance, or at least trusted the feelings that she had for him, he wasn’t going to give her the answers she needed. For whatever reason, he just wasn’t.
So, where did that leave her? Right back at the beginning. She was going to have to do what she’d planned from the first. She needed to go straight to the top. She needed to speak to Jack Richards.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chance left Meg in the coffee shop without another word. Did he feel like a complete asshole? Yes. Did he have any other choice? No. As he practically sprinted across the parking lot to his Prius he realized, with dawning horror, that he had never had a choice. It was always going to come down to this.
His mind was racing as he drove the busy road home, and more than once he wished the car was driverless so he could start his research immediately. He’d put a stop to the driverless car department in X-Tech years ago, mostly because he worried about the huge numbers of people the tech would put out of a job. Change was coming there, though. Chance could not stop it. What else had he been unable to stop?
His stomach was rolling as he pulled into his parking space at the bottom of his apartment building. One of his neighbors waved as he passed by. Chance barely managed a wave back. He raced up the stairs to his apartment, threw the door open, and practically skidded into his office.
He clicked his fingers. The tech woke up. Chance dropped into his chair and immediately began pulling up the files he needed. He’d never been great at filing. Over the years, Chance wrote things down, stored them away where he thought he’d remember, forgot, and then found them months later. It had never bothered him before because he often found things that jogged a thought that jogged another, and before he knew it he was discovering something new.
It bothered him now. As he frantically flipped through file after file he couldn’t fucking remember where he had stored the program. How long ago had he created it? Half a decade ago? Maybe even more than that?
He scrolled to some of the older folders. The one labeled “The Golden Group” he ignored. He’d created that one after he returned from Japan. Hadn’t he written bits of the program toward the end of his stay in Tokyo?
He scrolled down some more and began to open folder after folder that had been created around that date. His fingers were shaking as they moved, but worse was the way his stomach felt. Clenched tight and rolling at the same time. It was panic. Chance had never felt this way before.
He skipped past a folder containing photos of his time in Tokyo. He did not want to see them now. Hell, he didn’t want to see them ever. Why had he even kept them? Those months had been some of the worst of his life. How old had he been? In his late-twenties? Chance had felt like he’d been a lot older back then. It was the exhaustion. A decade’s worth of exhaustion. Every program he’d written, every new equation, every discovery he’d made, every dollar he’d added to his oversized bank account.
