“I don’t care about them giving me a hard time, it’s the three generals who have my attention. We can’t afford to have anything go wrong.”
“Wait a minute Miranda, it isn’t going to reflect badly on TAID if Lartronics screws-up on delivering this,” Susan protested. “Our job was to test everything and give the Pentagon an unbiased assessment of the viability, before they went into production. If you give a green light, or put a stop on it, either way, we’re fine. Unless we’re trying to get work with Lartronics after this project, is that it?”
“I wish it were that simple. If Lartronics fails, our name is always going to be connected to a failed project.”
Susan sat up in her chair. “But that’s not fair.”
“That’s how the game works,” Miranda sighed.
“But I thought everything looked good.”
“So far it has,” Miranda agreed slowly. “We’ve ensured that their materials were top of the line. The sub-contractors were all inspected and approved by everyone. The assembly is being done here in the States, and they built in enough lead time to get things put together without error. But I think the math on the original plans is off, and when it comes time for the demonstration, it’s going to fail.”
“So what are you doing to fix it?”
That was another thing she loved about Susan. She had absolute confidence in Miranda’s abilities to take care of things. Miranda was pretty sure she would be able to, too. She might hate being in the limelight, but she knew her damn job. However, this one was going to be tough. That was the reason Miranda had been going through her feel-good file, she’d needed a boost. Something to stimulate some ideas.
“I’m doing it. I just sent an e-mail allocating overtime to the quality control department. I want their findings in forty-eight hours. In the meantime, I’m going to ask Riya to give me the names of some mathematicians she would recommend. I’m not going to let this project fail.”
“So you’re not going to wait for the QC results,” Susan chuckled.
“Nope. Let’s hope I’m wrong, but I want to have my ducks in a row in case I’m right.”
“Which you probably will be. Will the CTO at Lartronics be mad at you?”
“To begin with, he’s going to be pissed as hell, then he’ll agree to give me his firstborn.”
“Great, you won’t have to go through childbirth again,” Susan winked.
“As long as they arrange it for me to get a damn epidural this time, I’ll be fine,” Miranda groused. She was still bitter about that.
“Plus our CEO will probably give you a bonus,” Susan grinned, “because Lartronics will give us more business.”
“There is that,” Miranda agreed.
“And will the generals be grateful?” Susan asked.
“If we do our job right, they’ll never know. We want them to think they got a pretty package that worked right on the first try, so they have faith in Lartronics and TAID for all subsequent contracts.”
Susan grinned. “Makes sense. I’ll send Riya to your office when she gets in.”
“Thanks.”
“The pizza should arrive in twenty minutes. It’s from Lefty’s,” Griff said. It was two weeks later, and he knew Miranda was having a big meeting with everyone, including the CTO from Lartronics who had flown in from out of town, as well as a bevy of programmers and her two hotshot mathematicians.
“Grubhub doesn’t deliver Lefty’s to the Northwest Corridor Technology Center. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“This is the Wyatt Leed’s delivery service.”
Miranda didn’t know what made her happier. Hearing her husband’s sexy voice over the phone after a rough day at work, or the idea of having a supreme pizza from Lefty’s.
“You’re too good to me.”
“I know you’re working on something big,” he said. “I know it has you in a twist, and whatever I can do to support you, I want to do.”
Miranda thought of something, but before she could say anything, Griff was already answering her unasked question.
“There’s eight pizzas coming. Susan told me you have a conference room full of people. You’ll have everything but the beer.”
“You sweet man. I’ll do you a solid, I’ll even save the receipt and bill it to the company.”
“Now we’re talking my language.” She could hear his grin over the phone.
Hell, she’d been planning to send Susan out for Subway, but instead they were getting a feast.
She scanned the spreadsheets and schematics in front of her, and was surprised when Susan pinged her.
“That was fast,” she said as she picked up her phone. “I didn’t think it would get here so quick.”
“Want me to bring it in?” Susan asked.
“No, set it up in the conference room. I’ll be right in.”
“You want your flowers put in the conference room?”
“Huh?” Miranda rubbed her forehead. “What are you talking about, Susan?” But she was talking to a dial tone.
Susan opened the door and walked in with a bouquet of sunflowers in a red vase.
“It’s your secret admirer again,” Susan said with a questioning smile. “Still no card. I’m telling you, Griff is the most romantic man in the world.” Susan put her hand over her forehead, pretending to swoon.
Miranda forced a smile. “Susan, can you do me a favor?” she asked before her friend could put them on her credenza.
“Sure, what?”
“Could you put them someplace else? The last time they gave me a terrible sinus headache. I’d normally suggest you just keep them on your desk, but I know that I’d smell them there too, and it would just be too overwhelming.”
“Oh, God, Miranda, does it trigger your migraines? Holy Moly, let me get them out of here. You need to tell Griff. He’s going to feel terrible.” She practically ran out the door with the bouquet. Miranda couldn’t be happier.
That bastard. The mean and evil bastard. How dare he try to worm his way into her life. He was dead. Didn’t he get it? He was dead and buried and that’s where he needed to stay. Her mind wound backwards to that horrible night. She remembered everything. Every detail.
She tried to shove it down deep, but she couldn’t. It roiled around incessantly, and she couldn’t focus. She was having trouble seeing the papers on her desk. It seemed to be swimming in front of her eyes.
Miranda picked up her mechanical pencil but it dropped out of her hand. She whimpered.
No! This couldn’t be happening. Not this fast.
She blindly reached for her purse, because lights were beginning to pop before her eyes. She fumbled for her top drawer, and found her purse. Her fingers grasped the nasal spray bottle with the migraine medicine, and she immediately took a hit.
She kept her eyes closed, but the light still filtered through her lids. It was excruciating. She would not let the dragon win. She would not! She was better than this. She could beat it. How long did she wait for the medicine to take effect? Finally, she went to grab her desk phone. She knocked over the handset and gave up trying to press the right button.
“Susan,” she yelled weakly.
She didn’t think she waited long, but it must have been, because she woke to a cool compress on her brow and at the back of her neck, and the lights were out. She felt like she could breathe.
Thank God for Susan and that medicine.
“How long?” she croaked out.
“Long enough for half of the Lefty’s pizza to have been eaten,” Susan said. Her voice was wobbly.
“Shit.”
“Griff is on his way over.”
“Susan, that wasn’t necessary.” She sat up straighter in her chair, then swallowed a few times, and breathed through her nose. Funny how the thought of Lefty’s no longer held any appeal.
She swallowed and it tasted like vomit.
“Are you kidding me? Three-hundred-and-sixty-four days out of the year you scare me a hell of a lot more than Griff. B
ut when it comes to your health, he scares the bejesus out of me. I’m surprised he isn’t here by now.”
“It was just a headache.”
“Headache my ass. This is the fourth time Griff’s sent you those flowers in the last twelve months. Why have you never told me that you were so allergic?”
Well, that was the million dollar question. How could she tell Susan that she was allergic to the flowers because a man everyone thought was dead, was sending them instead of Griff?
What was his deal sending the flowers, anyway? It was about damn time she pulled up her big girl panties and found out, instead of acting like a scared four-year-old.
“They say that you can develop an allergy, and that’s what happened to me,” Miranda lied. “This time it was really bad.”
“I’ll say,” Susan agreed.
Miranda’s office door swung open. Griff gave her a steely-eyed look as he took her in. He looked ferocious.
“Miranda, why did you come to work today if a migraine was blooming?” he demanded as he stalked across the room, then knelt down in front of Miranda. He took the cloth from Susan’s hand and kept it pressed to her forehead, his other hand cupped Miranda’s cheek.
“Oh, Baby, I need to get you home.”
“Where’s Livvie?” she asked weakly.
“I dropped her off at Dex and Kenna’s. She’s spending the night.”
“Kenna’s pregnant. We can’t do that to her,” Miranda objected.
“Yes we can, they’ve been buying all the baby shit. I gave them her diaper bag, they’re good. Now I’m taking you home.” He was like granite. She was going to have to proceed carefully to get her way. She cut her eyes to Susan who rushed out of the office.
“Honey, this meeting is critical.”
“You passed out.”
“I didn’t pass out. I was awake, just really out of it.”
“Susan called me from your phone. Do you remember that?”
She looked him straight in the eye. “Yes.”
His hands clamped down on the arms of her chair and boxed her in. “You’re lying,” he growled.
She glared at him. “Prove it.”
He continued to stare at her.
“Griff, this is one of the most important meetings of the project,” she enunciated clearly. It was her way of admitting that she’d lied, and trying to get him to come around to her way of thinking.
He blew out a breath through gritted teeth.
“Miranda, these migraines are serious,” he said in a choked whisper. “We’ve been to the doctor. You know because you have migraines with auras you’re more susceptible to having a stroke. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to Livvie.”
She put her hand on his cheek. “I haven’t had a migraine in six months. I’ve even been doing yoga. I’m going to be fine.”
“This project is a lot of pressure,” he said softly. His concern was so clear. Miranda couldn’t tell him what the real reason was. She just wanted that to go away, and she was going to make it go away. For all everyone knew, there was nobody named Roger Heinrich, and he was going to remain a dead nobody.
“You can wait for me here in the office, I’ll keep the meeting to just three hours. How’s that?”
Griff got a mutinous expression on his face.
Shit, she wasn’t going to win.
Then it came to her. “You trust Riya, don’t you?”
“Huh? What does Riya have to do with anything?”
“Move,” Miranda pushed him out of her way so she could reach for her cell phone. She punched in Riya’s number.
“Riya, I need a favor. I know you’re not working on the Helios project, but you have a top secret clearance, and Griff trusts you. Can you come to my office as soon as possible and sit in on a meeting with me?”
Riya paused on the other end. “What’s the dress code?”
“Anything you want, just get here,” Miranda answered.
Riya hung up.
Miranda was too wiped out to laugh, otherwise she would. That was her friend the scientist. She had her question answered and was on her way, no need for chit chat. Riya Patel was one of the most brilliant minds on the planet, but she had almost no social skills. Miranda absolutely adored the woman, and was thankful every day that she was part of her team.
“As soon as Riya gets here, we’ll tell her about the migraine and what to monitor me for, and she can sit in on the meeting. How does that sound? I’d have you come in, but you’re not cleared for it.”
Griff opened his mouth.
“Please, Griff.” If he disagreed, she’d acquiesce. He’d never asked her to make a choice like this before. He really had a good reason to ask for it in his opinion, and unless she came clean as to what the real stressor was, she was stuck.
“Do you promise to bail if Riya so much as raises an eyebrow?” he eventually asked.
“Hell, knowing her, once we explain the situation, she’ll stop the meeting and drag my ass out if she thinks there’s an issue.”
He cocked his head. “Good point.”
10
It had taken everything Miranda could do to put Griff off the previous night. He’d wanted to talk, but she’d insisted the migraine had wiped her out. He’d been great making breakfast, going out and putting gas in her SUV, and taking Livvie to the Little Handprints Daycare this morning. She didn’t deserve him. She got into work at ten a.m., knowing the dreaded blocked call would be coming. It always did after the flowers.
Loathing coated her tongue, making her gag as the phone rang. But she was going to finish this, once and for all. He was not going to steal her honor. Not anymore.
“Let’s get this over with.” she answered.
“Is that any way to greet your father?”
“Heinrich, what do you want? You’re barely hanging on at DHS, just one more fuck-up and they’re going to boot your ass. You’re behind two mortgage payments, and your third wife left you. Rumor has it you miss the yippy dog she took with her. Your life is shit.” She waited a beat for emphasis. “As it should be. I’ll give you a tip, you can’t afford to be sending me flowers. You probably can’t even afford the blocked number upgrade on your phone. So what do you want?”
“Randa—” his voice was sickly sweet.
“Don’t call me that,” she cut him off, her voice ice. That nickname was reserved for Hope.
“I see you’ve been doing your homework. Had one of your husband’s little SEAL buddies look me up?”
“Could be,” she answered noncommittally. She wasn’t going to admit to a damn thing, but if he thought she wasn’t capable of finding out about his pathetic little life, he was sorely mistaken. Granted, she did end up tapping a friend of hers who had quit TAID and opened her own cyber-security company, but still, a lot of the stuff she’d discovered on her own.
“Still, it’s nice to have this much of a conversation with you, normally you just hang up.”
He was right. Eleven months ago when she’d gotten the first arrangement of sunflowers in the red vase, she’d gotten a call from the blocked number and picked up. Then she’d heard his voice and ice dripped down her spine. She’d immediately hung up. He’d called until she’d powered off her phone. Bastard had never left a voice mail, thank God.
“What are you talking about, Heinrich? We had a conversation when you hunted me down three years ago.”
“Can’t you find it in your heart to call me dad?” he wheedled.
Miranda almost choked at the very thought. “You’re lucky my mother raised me to be so polite, otherwise I wouldn’t be calling you Heinrich.”
“Yeah, Olivia was quite a woman, wasn’t she?”
Miranda slammed the flat of her hand on her desk. “Don’t you dare say her name.”
“I was paying her a compliment,” he whined.
“If you want this conversation to continue, Heinrich, you will never say her name again, are we clear?”
There was no response.
�
�Answer me.”
“Can’t you at least call me Roger?” His voice grated on her nerves.
Dammit, he was a bellyacher. She hated that.
“Heinrich, what do you want?” She enunciated every word clearly.
“I just want to spend time with you. Is that so hard to believe?”
She vaguely remembered him saying the same thing to her when she’d been at Griff’s house three years ago. She’d replayed that time in her head, and realized that he must have staked out Griff’s duplex and waited for her nurse to leave before approaching.
“What do you want?” She repeated her question, her voice was flat.
Had she asked him that question three years ago, or had she been grateful to see him? It killed her that the conversation with him was still fuzzy around the edges. He’d visited her at Griff’s house, right after she’d taken pain medication. He must have been keeping track of her schedule, because he came between the time when Griff left in the morning and before her nurse, Lilah arrived. So when her father had kept knocking on the door, she was totally out of it.
Before getting pictures from Ellen’s cyber-security company, Miranda just had a dim shadow of Roger Heinrich’s face seen through Griff’s screen door. She remembered him praising her for saving Hope. Vaguely, she remembered him gushing a lot about how wonderful she was.
Now it disgusted her to realize that deep down it had once been her heart’s secret desire that he love her, and there he’d been, giving it to her. Miranda remembered crying at Griff’s door, and it was when her father had tried to open the door and hug her, that all hell broke loose. She wasn’t a four-year-old wishing that her daddy loved her. She might be concussed and drugged but she remembered this was the bastard who’d belted and kicked her mom and railed at her for not having ‘aborted the thing’. Telling her mom that the brat should never have been born.
Miranda didn’t even remember closing the door, but she had a memory of Lilah finding her slumped on the couch and worrying about why she wasn’t in bed. By the time Griff got home that night, it was as if it had all been a horrible dream.
Her Honorable Hero Page 11
