by Ravenna Tate
“If Rob isn’t smart enough to write or decipher complex code, how did he end up working for your friend, Ace?”
“He is smart enough to do both, but he’s an asshole. He wasn’t fired because he didn’t do his job well. He was fired because he hacked into systems and machines he had no business being in at the time.”
She nodded. “I see. So what now? What will you do with his laptop?”
“Look for what we believe is on there. One of Viggo’s friends is bringing it to me tonight by train. I should have it by morning.”
“Why are you sharing this information with me?”
He leaned forward and uncrossed his legs. “Because you showed great loyalty by calling me tonight to tell me what you’d overheard. Some people might have kept it to themselves, and others might have sold the information to a tabloid. Some might have approached Rob and Olivia to gossip about me or the company. They might have even fed those two more inside information than they have. But you did none of that. Your first instinct was to call me.”
“I’d never do or say anything to undermine the company I work for, or the man who owns it. That’s crazy.”
“It’s called integrity, and unfortunately it’s a rare thing these days.” He gazed at her for a long time, and Rissa became uncomfortable under his scrutiny. She couldn’t decipher the expression on his face. Was this some kind of weird test? This was the longest conversation she’d had with him, and certainly the most intense one.
“Rissa, I’d like you to help me look for data on the hard drive. I’ll pull you off Ed’s team. You will work one-on-one with me for this project.”
Her palms were suddenly damp. “Excuse me?”
“I can’t do this alone, and you’re very, very good at data mining. Plus, you’re loyal. That’s exactly the kind of person I need helping me with this. I know you’ll keep it secret, and that’s what I need from you.”
He sat back, looking completely satisfied with himself. “So, what do you say? Will you help me do this? Will you help me nail Rob Marin and those bastards who fucked up The Madeline Project?”
Rissa had to look away from that gaze for a second or two. This was a chance to do work she loved to do, but she also knew there was far more to it than that. She’d be working too closely with Barclay Hampton, the one man who stirred her senses like no other had in seven years. She’d be in deep shit if she did this because she’d fall under his spell. No doubt about it.
But how could she refuse him? It was the chance of a lifetime.
Chapter Four
Barclay watched the emotions cross her pretty face, knowing he’d just ensured a way to stay close to her, and also knowing there was no fucking way he’d be able to resist wanting her. But what he’d said was true. She was very good at this, and she’d proven her loyalty tonight. Sure, there were other employees he could have asked, but he didn’t want any other employee helping him with this. He wanted Rissa.
Finally, she looked at him again, and he wanted to shout for joy. She was about to say yes. He saw it in her eyes.
“All right. I’ll do it. Let’s nail these bastards.”
Stay cool. “Great. Fabulous. Thank you so much.” He went to grab his glass again and nearly toppled it. So much for staying cool. “I’ll set up everything in the background and email you with the details for Monday morning.”
She watched him right the glass. “You said you’d have the laptop in the morning, right?”
Barclay nodded.
“Then why wait for Monday? The sooner we take a look at it, the sooner we’ll find out if it contains what you hope it does.”
Barclay swallowed hard. “You don’t mind working weekends?”
“I don’t mind.”
Surely she had better things to do, unless she wasn’t seeing anyone. She hadn’t gone to the wedding with a date, so it was possible she wasn’t. Were the men in this city blind?
“Do you want me to work on this in my office, or are we going to do it someplace else?”
How about my apartment? “I’ll have you moved to an office close to mine on Monday morning. I don’t want you to be distracted by anyone, and I don’t want your teammates asking questions.”
She grinned, and his heart fluttered. She was so damn pretty to begin with, but smiling lit up her entire face. “Wow. I’m rarely on the top floor.”
He chuckled. “It’s not much different from where you work, is it?”
“Not in looks, no. It’s just the idea of being part of the skyline crowd, as we call it.”
“Oh, that’s good to know.”
“Guess I should have kept that to myself.”
He laughed again, and then almost knocked over the glass of lemonade once more. As much as he’d love to stay here, it was time to leave before he made an ass of himself or spilled his drink all over her carpet. He stood, and her gaze went straight to his crotch. Perfect. Now he’d get to walk home with a hard-on that she knew he had.
“I’ll let you know when I have the laptop so we can make arrangements to begin working on it.”
She stood and took the glass from where he’d left it. “That sounds great. Thank you for the opportunity. I’m really excited about this.”
“So am I.”
They stood there, staring at each other, Rissa holding two glasses of lemonade while his head spun. The urge to kiss her was strong. What the fuck was he doing? This woman worked for him, but he’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her right now. He needed her in his arms. He needed to gaze into those really blue eyes.
He needed fresh air.
“I’ll call you in the morning.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Barclay turned and headed for her door before he did something that would ensure he wouldn’t be in his office when the laptop arrived.
****
Rissa stood and stared at the closed door for a long time. What the hell had just happened? She was going to be working on a top secret project with Barclay Hampton. Only him. And she couldn’t tell anyone.
The glasses started to slip from her hands, so she placed them in the sink and sat down on the sofa to think. Rob Marin might be one of the hackers who had ruined The Madeline Project. No. Not possible. Then again, what did she understand about the psychological profile of a hacker? For all she knew, the person who sat next to her at work every day could be one. That man on the corner who sold hot bagels from a cart every morning could be one. It’s not like they wore neon signs on their foreheads.
She tried to recall what she knew about the Weathermen and the work they were doing. She knew they’d all met in high school or college, they each were millionaires if not billionaires by now, and they all ran their own companies. Barclay recovered data for, like, everyone. Viggo managed properties around the country. Addison Carlyle funded most of the men and women who retrieved items from the surface for people with enough cash to pay for such luxuries.
Two of them, Emmett Radcliffe and Grayson Jensen owned software and website development companies. Blaine Parker owned the largest media conglomerate in the world. Ace Easton and Dominic Greco had the communications industry sewn up between them. Kane Bannerman ran an investment company that was over one hundred years old.
Damien headed up his multi-million dollar construction company. Oliver Fairchild’s company made sure they could all survive underground. Atticus Yates ran a company that made the latest hardware, and had some pretty amazing prototypes that were fun to play with on their website.
As far as she knew, only one was married so far. Ace’s and Harper’s wedding had been the social event of the century. If the tabloids were correct, Emmett, Dominic, Kane, and Damien were all engaged. The Weathermen were dropping like flies.
She chuckled. They were each over forty. Time to stop acting like horny teens and settle down. Not that it was any of her business. Far from it. Her business was to do the job she was paid to do.
And now that job will consist of working side-by-side
with your hot boss.
How the fuck had she landed in this? How was she supposed to concentrate on Rob Marin’s hard drive with Barclay Hampton next to her all day, every day?
Her phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. It was Mindy Tesserone, one of the analysts from work. Mindy was on another team, but the two had formed a casual friendship over the past year. Why was Mindy calling her?
Rissa answered the phone. “Hi there.”
“Hey, how’s the wedding? Ready to stuff the dress down the bride’s throat yet?”
Rissa briefly recalled telling Mindy about the hideous dress and how much she hated it. “I tore the bustle off in the bathroom, and now I’m home.”
“Already?”
“Yeah.” She left it at that. No way was she going to tell Mindy or anyone at work about what had happened tonight.
“Were there any hot guys there?”
“Not really.” Not unless you count our CEO and he wasn’t technically at the wedding.
“You don’t sound like you had a good time at all.”
“It was all right. I’m just tired. I’ll talk to you on Monday.”
After she disconnected the call, she wondered when or if she’d see Mindy or any of the others at work. Barclay was moving her office. What would they all think? She’d have to think of something to tell them if they asked. Or maybe she’d ask Barclay what she should say.
Right now, she wondered how she was going to sleep tonight, or if she would, without dreaming about her and Barclay having erotic adventures, that is.
****
Barclay went back to his office and lay down on the very comfortable leather sofa, after an unsuccessful attempt at trying to work on one of his many projects. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind, he’d get a bit of sleep. He tried to push Rissa’s face out of his head, but that was like trying not to breathe.
He should call her and give her some excuse why he’d changed his mind about them working on recovering data from Rob’s laptop together. He couldn’t do this. He could not work that closely with her and keep away from her. He was only a man.
But what excuse could he possibly give that wouldn’t lead her to think he was either a damn fool or a liar? None. He was stuck. And the truth was that her skills were up to the task, more so than most of the people he currently employed. This project had just become top priority, and he needed someone exactly like Rissa to help him with it. If only she wasn’t so damn charming. If only her eyes didn’t draw him in, and make him want to hold her.
****
A ringing phone startled him. Barclay sat straight up, blinking against the sunlight streaming in. What time was it? Fuck! He’d dozed off after all, and from the looks of the fake sun, it was mid-morning.
Grabbing his phone to answer the call, he grinned when the man on the other end told him he was on his way to the office from the train station. Barclay splashed cold water on his face and went down to the lobby to wait. No one was around on a Sunday morning except security, but they were used to seeing him in the building at all hours.
He knew it was Viggo’s associate strolling toward him without the man having to say a word. There was something confident and purposeful in his swagger, even though he was dressed in a nondescript sweatshirt and jeans. He had on a backpack, as if he was a college student. He looked young enough to be one, and Barclay made a mental note to tell Viggo that the people he knew in NorthCentral who had pulled this off were freaking geniuses. This young man blended into the background. No one would give him a second glance.
He blew right past Barclay without a word and walked into the building. Barclay followed, leading the man past security, who again barely gave them each a glance. The man didn’t even look at the desk. Oh, he’s good at this.
Once they were in Barclay’s office, the young man finally spoke. “My return train leaves in an hour.” He removed his backpack and pulled out Rob Marin’s laptop, sheathed in a thin, protective case. Then he took out the power cord. “Battery was half drained when we lifted it, but I charged it on the train. I looked for a peripheral hard drive in the house and found two.”
He dug in the backpack and pulled out those as well. Holy shit. This was better than Barclay had been expecting. “He still might have things backed up online, but I did a quick software scan on the train, and didn’t find any remote capabilities to erase what’s on these drives.”
Once Rob knew his laptop was gone, he’d try to erase anything on it. They hadn’t counted on him being able to do anything about that remotely, and Barclay was glad to know they’d been right. “That’s exactly what we were hoping for. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. I’m going to grab something to eat and head back to the station. Nice doing business with you.”
They shook hands and then the man left. Barclay watched on the security cameras until he left the building, then texted Viggo to let him know he had the laptop and two external hard drives. Viggo lived in CentralWest and it was two hours earlier there, but he knew the man would be awake already.
Viggo texted back with a smiley face and a thumbs-up sign. Barclay chuckled. Viggo was a man of few words, but what could any of them say at this point? It was time to get to work. He placed the laptop and both external drives into his own laptop bag, then resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder as he walked home.
No one knew what he had. Even Rob only had a suspicion, and he imagined that Rob and his wife were already on their way back home by now. They knew the Marins had driven here instead of taking the train, because Viggo’s friends had watched them leave their house.
Once he was in his apartment, he took a shower, whistling the entire time. Rissa’s face was back inside his head, only this time he pictured her naked body as well, under the spray with him. His fantasies did nothing for his ability to take a quick shower like he’d planned.
When he finally emerged, he needed a drink. He settled instead for coffee and breakfast, then texted Rissa to ask if she was awake and ready to work. She texted back immediately, which made him grin like an idiot. He’d been right about this girl. She was perfect for this project.
Now if only he could manage to get the work done without begging her to fuck him silly.
Chapter Five
Rissa had been up for hours, waiting to see if Barclay really would call, or if she’d dreamed the entire conversation the evening before. She was already showered, had eaten twice, and had changed clothes about ten times before finally settling on jeans and a very pretty top. Likely too pretty to go to his apartment and work on mining data, but she used the excuse that she wanted to project an air of professionalism and casualness at the same time.
Right. Just keep telling yourself that.
As she set off toward his building, she breathed in the air and struggled to remember what Dallas had smelled like in the springtime. If you weren’t in the city where you were likely to breathe in exhaust fumes, the subtle scents of daffodils or tulips had filled the air, along with the smell of rain. They were able to duplicate the smell of flowers underground, but not the rain. There was none.
Despite the fact her hormones raced out of control whenever she was near Barclay, or even when she thought about him, for that matter, she forced her thoughts to the bigger picture. What she was about to embark on could save their planet.
From what she understood, if they found the names of the hackers, they could turn them over to HCS. Then, of course, they’d need them either to confess the code they’d used to take the program out, or they’d need to force them to reverse the virus if that was still possible.
Rissa frowned as she walked across town. Was any of that even feasible at this point? Had they thought this through? Finding the hackers was one thing, but making them undo what they’d done was quite another. What did they care? If they were all still alive it meant they were safe underground as well. What possible threat could the government or any of the Weathermen hold over their heads now? Prison
for life? Doing that wouldn’t lead to anyone taking back control of The Madeline Project.
The damage was done. The hackers had already succeeded. If even half the stories she read online from the Storm Troopers and the procurement teams were true, the surface was a barren expanse of constantly howling wind and unpredictable, violent tornadoes, flash floods and hurricanes. The radar worked sporadically so even if you were lucky enough to bring up a satellite image using a phone or laptop, you still didn’t have reliable or consistent information.
The shelters were adequate but there weren’t enough of them, and there were caves but not everywhere. She’d also read horror stories of the caves flooding while people were huddled in them seeking shelter. It amazed her that anyone voluntarily went up there at all under such conditions.
Maybe what their government really needed was to add being forced to live on the surface as a punishment for horrible crimes? That would be a fitting sentence for the hackers.
When she arrived at the apartment complex where Barclay lived, she had to present ID to be buzzed through the main gate. She then had to present it again inside his building, where the sleepy-looking security officer told her to take a private elevator and gave her a code to key in. Rissa couldn’t picture living like this, but imagined someone in Barclay’s position had to in order to protect himself.
The man himself met her as the elevator doors opened, and she was relieved to see him dressed casually. “Thanks for coming over.” His gaze drifted lazily over her top, and she bit back a smile. “Wow. That is a really great color on you.”
“Thank you.” Anything was better than the damn bright turquoise she’d been wearing last night.
“It brings out your eyes.”
That’s why I wore it for you.
“Come on in. Have you had breakfast? I made fresh coffee.”
