Waiting For It

by Allyson Lindt

Nope. Nuh-uh. I would not jump to conclusions. “What is it?” I looked at Chase. “Tell me straightforward-like. Don’t wrap it up pretty.”

  Chase pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “When hooked up, your name came up,” Luke said. “I’d tell you I don’t know how, but you were there in every other tangent. It came out that we both like you. Care about you. Would like more than friendship.”

  That was sweet. So why did it taste rancid? “Okay?”

  “I admitted I was holding back for the same reasons you hesitated—our shared friends.” Chase pulled on a pair of trousers over his boxer briefs.

  “Luke was hesitating because he’s my boss.” An explanation I was sick of hearing. Not because it was an invalid reason, but I didn’t see a way around it, and that obstacle nagged at me. None of this eased how much the word planned bothered me. “And?”

  Luke stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind his back. “I had another reason for waiting, but it’s related. You’re not going to be working for me much longer.”

  They couldn’t fire me, could they? “After everything I’ve done? All the hours I’ve put in? I’m on the chopping block?” I mean yeah, our game launch had been the worst in the company’s history and I was a team lead, but I’d tried. My heart hammered against my ribs, and my breath came in short gasps. This wasn’t—

  “No.” Luke was emphatic. “No one is firing you. I promise. The opposite. You’re not supposed to know this, but after the game launches, Scott wants to move you into a Design Director position. He’s just waiting.”

  The wheels in my brain spun freely, not snagging anything. Not processing anything. Promotion. Not working for Luke, but with him. Recognition for the months of long hours. Having a say in the direction of games. My dream job. “Basically, everyone’s just... waiting?” More motivation to finish the game. Like I needed another reason.

  “Exactly.” Luke’s smile was tentative.

  I should leave things as they were. This was a happy outcome. I mean, until I had to pick a guy, or things didn’t work out with either of them, but there was no reason to go into dating assuming the relationship would fail. “But that’s not what you mean by we planned.”

  Chase winced. “We agreed neither one of us would pursue you until we both could. He made a move early, and I didn’t want to miss my chance.”

  “And?” I wasn’t hearing anything bad, per se, but they radiated guilt. The backstory was nice, but it didn’t answer the original question. And why did Luke’s phrasing make them look like they’d been caught with their dicks out?

  “We may have made a bet about which one of us could win you over.” Luke grimaced with each word. “The prize is you.”

  They made a wager, and I was the reward? My jaw dropped. Apparently that was a thing that really happened. I tried to find a response, but anything I would have said would sound more like a low keening than words.

  “It’s not like what you’re thinking.” Chase reached for me.

  I stepped back until I collided with the dresser.

  “It was a stupid way to phrase things.” Luke hadn’t moved from his at-ease stance. “I care about you. Not a stupid bet.”

  “Yeah, but you agreed to it anyway. Not only that, but you meant it enough that you still think of me in those terms.” My voice came back, fueled by anger, hurt, and disbelief. “I can’t— You really— A fucking bet? Am I supposed to be flattered that you think I can be won and traded? Spoiler alert—I’m not.”

  Chase took a step toward me. “Annie.”

  “No.” I held up my hand, index finger out, as a warning. I saw two choices—curl up in a ball and sob for the next decade, or swallow this horrific feeling and go back to work. I wouldn’t pretend none of it had happened, but I would ignore the giant pit in my gut that enjoyed any part of it. “Don’t call me that. Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me. Guess what? You both lose.”

  “Please. I’m sorry.” Luke’s posture softened, but he kept his distance.

  I grabbed a change of clothes from my luggage and focused on keeping myself from shaking. From breaking. Was the room part of their plan? This trip? The seat upgrade had been. How much didn’t I know? “I’m going to shower. And when we get to work, I’m going to pretend nothing’s different. And Jamie is going to spend the day finding me a new room.”

  “All right,” Luke said.

  I stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I barely managed to get my clothes off before stepping under the shower. The water shifted from lukewarm to too hot, and I didn’t care. I needed the sound to drown out any sobs that slipped out with the tears streaming down my face.

  Chapter Fifteen

  My eyes were clear and my resolve was steel when I emerged from the bathroom, ready to confront the day. Chase was gone.

  Seeing Luke sent a wash of uncertainty through me.

  “Anne...”

  “Nope.” I couldn’t say more. Wouldn’t bend to the doubt.

  He sighed. “Give me fifteen minutes, and we can head into the office.”

  A little more time to compose myself. I’d passed that first hump of looking Luke in the eye again. I could do this. I just had to treat him the way everyone else did. Not like a friend or a crush or more.

  I hadn’t been here long enough to unpack much, so gathering my luggage didn’t take time. A tiny thing to be grateful for that didn’t make me feel any better.

  Luke was my boss. That was it. He’d reminded me many times in the last few days.

  Chase was probably going to be harder to shove aside, but I could focus on one thing at a time. After work tonight, I’d go back to my own room and probably not see Chase again until the week was up.

  Easy peasy.

  Another wave of sobs bubbled up in my throat, and I clenched my fist until it passed. I wouldn’t cry over something like this. Last night was fun. I misunderstood the purpose, but now I knew, and I hadn’t technically lost anything or anyone.

  Not really.

  Only two people I considered friends.

  But once I recovered from the shock, we could be friends again.

  Maybe.

  Just not anything more.

  An ache pinged behind my ribs.

  I could do this.

  I didn’t give Luke more than a glance when he finished his shower. Partly to drive home my anger, but as much to keep my resolve from crumbling.

  Luke tried a few times to initiate conversation, but I didn’t say more than was needed.

  Rain drowned the world as we drove into the office. It mingled with the smoke in the air. Usually, I loved the rain, but today the news said the high winds and lightning were increasing the fire spread and risk.

  There was probably some sort of metaphor for my current situation in there. I wasn’t going to think about it.

  As we approached the building, I boxed up my hurt inside steel and ice. I’d spent years pretending I wasn’t attracted to Luke. I could live on the other side of the coin, too.

  We arrived before half the office, but Mike was already here.

  Luke grabbed his attention as we walked in the door. “I need a room where I can meet with some of your people today without disturbing Anne.”

  “Sure. I’d like to be in those meetings,” Mike said.

  Made sense. They were Mike’s people

  Move you into a Design Director position. Luke’s news echoed in my thoughts. I should be celebrating that. Doing giddy mental dances every time I thought about it. But I was stuck in the emotional mire instead. With Luke holding meetings, I’d have a while to ponder. That was good, unless I thought myself into a pit I couldn’t climb out of.

  Luke nodded at Mike. “Get me a room. I’ll include you on the invites.”

  I turned away and headed toward my—our—temporary office. I was halfway down the hall when I heard Mike.

  “Anne. Hold up.” He jogged to catch up with me.

  I gave him my practiced smile. �
��What’s up?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Totally fine. Why?” I was more out of sorts than I thought, if Mike noticed. He’d never struck me as an observer of people.

  He shrugged. “Just an impression. I know everything is stressful right now. Trust me, I know. If you need an ear from someone who gets it...”

  I wouldn’t be talking to him. I forced my smile to reach my eyes. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Maybe I’d misjudged him. From every other time we’d ever spoken.

  I set up my laptop and tried to dive into work. After a few false starts, I managed to lose myself in admin tasks.

  “Hey.” Luke’s tone was quiet when he interrupted a few hours later. “Lunch?”

  I shook my head and kept my eyes on my screen. I’d walk down the street and grab something quick when he was gone. The more time I could spend engrossed in my work, the less I had to think about how Luke and Chase used me as a prize in a dick measuring contest.

  “Before I go, Jamie’s been calling around off and on all morning. She hasn’t found any rooms yet, but she’ll keep trying,” he said.

  I didn’t want to keep her from her work. True, this was part of her job, but— “Don’t worry about it.” My voice was raw. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “A—”

  I glared at him. “The couch is fine.”

  “All right.” Luke left again.

  I let out a long sigh and dropped my face into my hands. I hated this. Why did they have to... Why couldn’t they have just... They could have just told me.

  Then again, I could have done the same, instead of making assumptions and swimming in fantasy for so long.

  That didn’t make what they’d done any more right. I couldn’t forget that. They’d bet me as a prize.

  I turned my attention back to my laptop.

  Well, attention was a loose term. I wasn’t focused on anything. The email from Zane was a welcome distraction.

  Rumor was, more than a decade ago, before the company was even known as Rinslet, he’d hacked their network and distributed a release version of a game weeks early.

  He’d been hired to keep people like him from doing the exact same thing, and while this situation wasn’t identical, I wondered if it ate at him that it happened under his watch.

  His email might as well have been in a foreign language. I understood enough to know it contained computer names and IP addresses, but the rest escaped me.

  I called him on my cell phone, in case I needed to wander to someplace more private. “Tell me what I’m looking at.”

  “Someone, presumably from Team Percival, hopped almost every development machine in the building, to connect and upload that content.”

  That didn’t make any sense. Rather, I understood what he meant, but not why anyone would do it. “Indulge me and let me talk through this?” I said.

  “Sure.”

  “Typically, a person hops connection points to hide their location.” The concept was, as I understood it, to use one internet connection to get to another and another and another, until it was difficult or impossible to find out where they’d started. “Which means they wouldn’t want all those points in the same place, and they’d prefer unsecured or at least less secure spots to connect to.”

  Zane clucked. “Typically.”

  “So why do things this way?” I knew the answer, but I didn’t want to believe it.

  “Because they either want you to know it was them, or they want you to think it was someone very specific.”

  That was what I was afraid of. “Don’t we have security to prevent this?”

  “Security only works if people aren’t sharing passwords.”

  I wanted to ask my last question least of all. I saw the answer in his message, but maybe he’d tell me I’d interpreted things wrong. “Who does it point to?”

  “Wilma Clayton.”

  Billie. The woman Mike indicated. One of our best Percival devs. It couldn’t be what it looked like. But unlike people, data didn’t lie.

  If I told Luke about this, would he fire her on the spot? “I need time to investigate,” I said. “Leave this with me?”

  “I understand, though I don’t like it. I am going to force that entire team to change their passwords, right now.”

  That made sense. “What do I need to do?”

  “Email everyone. Tell them they’ll be locked out of their machines in five minutes. They can get back in when they change their passwords.”

  I was already typing. “Done. I’ll keep you posted on the Billie thing, I promise.”

  “Be right about this, Anne.”

  I wanted to give him a confident I am. The best I could manage was, “Talk to you soon.”

  Seconds after I sent the message, I had a reply from Mike.

  What do you think you’re doing? This is my team. You can’t make calls like this. Are you an idiot, or just trying to steal my job?

  The harsh words sank under my skin, and I was typing a reply before I could process. I’m sorry. The decision needed to be made right away. I didn’t mean to step on your toes.

  I hit Send and sank back in my chair. I’d made a mistake, but was it in asking Zane for more time, or in cowering with Mike?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luke didn’t take issue with my decision to force the password change. I trust you. His assurance didn’t soothe me the way I think he intended. Why couldn’t I trust myself?

  On the drive back to the hotel, Luke called Chase. Such great pals, they decided which of them got to date which woman and had each other’s numbers.

  Luke put the conversation on speaker, to make sure everyone was on the same page, and told Chase finding new rooms was a bust, so he’d have roommates again tonight.

  So much for avoiding Chase.

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know if it would be worse if I let the anger flow and wanted to take it back later, or forgave them when I wasn’t sure that was the right thing to do.

  With Shawn, every time we fought, he’d insist it was my fault. For saying the wrong thing. For overreacting. For making him mad.

  I’d figured out after that wasn’t the case, but my fucking brain still wavered on how to spot when I was interpreting things wrong. Especially here and now, with them.

  Back at the hotel, I set up camp on the couch, pulled on my headphones, and opened my laptop. If that didn’t say, leave me alone, I didn’t know what would.

  Chase returned a short while later and stopped in front of me with a warm smile. “Hey.”

  I pointed at my headphones and stared back blankly.

  “Annie...”

  It didn’t matter that my music mostly drowned him out. I saw his lips move. Saw them form my name. Heard his voice in my head. I clenched my jaw and stared at my computer screen again, refusing to look up until I saw his legs pass by and disappear into the other room.

  I had to get over this, and now was as good a time to start as any. Work would distract me. Hopefully.

  When I was talking to Zane earlier, I’d put the pieces together that, if someone used internal passwords to make their hops and release our spoiler info, they could have just as easily used Billie’s info to frame her. The thought had nagged me since that conversation, and it was the biggest reason I hadn’t looped Luke in yet. We should have fired Billie the moment I had the information, but my gut said not to.

  My gut also said Luke would have listened to me, if I’d asked for time. But my gut lied a lot. What if I was wrong about Billie? What if I told Luke, and he fired her anyway, but she didn’t do it?

  I hated keeping this kind of secret, even though he’d lied to me. His sin wasn’t corporate-espionage level; it was just Anne-is-gullible-and-fun-to-play-with level.

  I didn’t know where to start, to prove anything about Billie one way or the other. Her other work? On-network activities?

  Like I’d done so many times in the past few months, I found myself staring at the
version control system—the way we kept track of who was making changes to the code and what changes they’d made, in case we needed to roll back to something previously overwritten. This had very little to do with leaking a series spoiler, except that we’d split the details up between teams, so no one had the full picture.

  Sure, someone could put the pieces together and figure out the full story—a lot of fans had done that—but a direct script excerpt? Something no one had full access to, unless they had administrator-level rights to source control? Which would include a person with their manager’s password?

  Had Mike been in here, poking at things?

  I stared for hours, but nothing clicked. It all looked normal. Billie had accessed a large number of files, but they were all ones she should be working with.

  My gaze drifted to the computer clock, and when I saw it was almost nine, my stomach growled. There were no answers for me here tonight. Maybe when my head was clearer.

  Time to grab some food then pretend I could sleep.

  I closed my laptop, set it on the coffee table, and pulled off my headphones. The moment I could hear the world again, the faint sound of the TV in the other room rushed in to meet me. It would be so easy to walk the ten or twenty feet to the bedroom, and talk to Chase and Luke. But I couldn’t. What if I did that, and I set myself up for more of the same?

  The sound of a door opening drew my attention, and I looked up to see Chase emerge from the bathroom. I traveled my gaze up his body, over gray sweatpants and his bare chest, to his damp hair and captivating stare. God, he looked good. The past rushed back in a wave of longing and desire, of staying with Sadie and always hoping for a glimpse of something like this.

  Fuck, that hurt.

  “I really am sorry. Talk to me, please,” he said.

  I wanted to. Wanted it so desperately that part of me was willing to accept and agree with anything he said, to make things right. That was the problem—I’d cave, and they’d think they could do something like this again. The way Shawn used to.

  I shook my head, grabbed my purse, and walked out of the room. My heart dove into my empty stomach with a thunk, and my brain warred with itself. I was being unreasonable. But I wasn’t. But I was. But... I grabbed my phone, more out of habit than because I wanted to look at it.