Tempting the Corporate Spy

by Angela Claire

  “The CEO?” she asked in shock. She’d never even met the guy.

  “Yes. He’s trying to arrange an offsite meeting with the CEO of—well, the company we’re in talks with. You’ll recognize him,” he added as an aside.

  “I’ll recognize him? Where?”

  “At the off-site meeting. He wants to talk to you. Due diligence. And we want to make it someplace where the meeting’s not likely to get noticed. Hershey’s mulling over that end of it. So that’s why you need to have something by the end of the month.”

  “Couldn’t we put that off for another month or two? I’m not sure I’ll have all the bugs worked out by then.”

  And this corporate spy thing taken care of.

  “Absolutely not. Hershey’s worried enough about a leak as it is. He’d have my balls for even telling you in advance about the deal!” Randy added quickly, as if just thinking of it, “You haven’t told anyone about the project, have you?”

  “No,” she answered honestly, since Jon had already known about it.

  “Good, because our lawyers take that nondisclosure crap seriously. I’ve had my ass whipped more than once on that.”

  I bet.

  “And you’ll be in a lot of trouble, young lady, if you don’t keep this under wraps.”

  “The merger?”

  “Everything!” He put the silver cover back on his plate with a clatter that had her startling a little. “I don’t have to worry about all the technological ins and outs on this, do I?”

  “Well,” she took a bite of her fish, trying to appear calm, “as I said, there might be some bugs that could lead to over-inclusion if I’m forced to present as early as the end of the month.”

  He gave her a hard stare and she suddenly remembered what Jen was always warning her, that Randy was a real ball-crusher if anything got in his way up the corporate ladder. Liv didn’t even have any balls and she was kind of scared at the way he was studying her. As if he was on the verge of calling the secret stock exchange police or something if she didn’t keep her mouth shut. Although, then, who would develop his program?

  “I’m not talking about over-inclusion, I’m talking about somebody hacking into our security and stealing this thing right out from under our noses before we’ve been able to monetize it.”

  She choked on the piece of fish she had been chewing and ended up spitting it out into a white cloth napkin. Randy still stared at her, not even bothering to pat her back or anything, waiting for the answer.

  “Well, uh,” she folded the evidence of her coughing fit into the napkin, and put a salt shaker over it for good measure, “my security protocols are state-of-the-art. They involve a primary layer of—”

  “Yes or no, young lady,” he demanded. “I could give a fuck for the nuts and bolts.”

  Or understand them, she thought angrily. At least Jonathon Crestwell appreciated the programming skills necessary to secure the project. You’re actually pretty good.

  Well, appreciate was maybe not the right word.

  “Yes or no,” Randy persisted, as if it would be her fault if someone infiltrated.

  Which she supposed it sort of would be.

  She took a sip from her water glass.

  Admitting to Randy what she had found out this morning was looking less and less palatable, even if she had been initially inclined to do so, which she probably hadn’t been.

  You’re actually pretty good.

  Damn that man.

  “No. You don’t have to worry about someone stealing the project. I won’t let that happen. You can rely on me.”

  The California smile that matched his tan was back in place. “Excellent. Just what I wanted to hear. You had me worried there for a second. So just chill about this off-site meeting. I’ll be there of course.”

  Taking credit where credit wasn’t due. “And Hershey will be there,” he added. “This whole deal is his baby. And you’ll be there.”

  The doorbell to the suite rang. “Must be housekeeping or something,” Randy said and went to open the door.

  “Is Liv Altman here?”

  Oh shit. It could not be. She looked toward the doorway. It was. Jonathon Crestwell was standing there in his standard oxford and khakis, holding a backpack.

  Chapter Five

  “Oh, there you are.” He came into the suite and went to Liv, who stood up from the table, at a loss for words.

  “Here you go.” He dug into his backpack and handed her a slim manila folder, saying to Randy, “She wanted me to bring this to her.”

  Glancing at the contents of the folder, she saw a single sheet of paper with a note in what was presumably his handwriting.

  Just wanted to make sure you don’t do anything you’ll regret. Trust me. I can explain.

  She snapped the folder closed staring daggers at the man who brought it and who was at that moment smiling at her serenely.

  Regardless of her decision a moment ago not to say anything to Randy, Mr. Super Hacker was forcing the issue now by showing up in front of her boss. She had to either turn him in right now or look complicit later. There would be no explaining her going along with his cover if she later wanted to expose him. So he was forcing her to decide what to do before she had really decided.

  The jerk was probably a masterful chess player.

  And a big gambler. For all he knew, she could out him right now.

  She slapped the manila folder against the side of her leg. “Randy, this is my, er, well, not really, but ah…” For somebody supposedly so smart, her brain was working surprisingly slow on this one.

  “Don’t be shy, honey.”

  Honey?

  Jonathon leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “She left this folder at the apartment when she was changing for lunch. She meant to bring it with her, but then, well, we lost track of time and she was running late.” He grinned and slipped an arm around her waist. “But what can you expect?” he asked Randy. “You keep her all night at work, then when I finally see her, we have to, ah, catch up. You know?”

  Any minute now she was going to start slapping him with the manila folder. If he really were her boyfriend, she would be appalled at him putting on such a spectacle in front of her boss. It was a wonder the man had actually gone to MIT. He would have been a natural for acting at Juilliard.

  Jonathon looked around innocently. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

  “Not at all. We were just finishing lunch,” Randy said.

  They both turned to look at her and she took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to turn Jon in. For both their sakes at this point.

  But she might just kill him.

  “Yes, thanks for this,” she said to her pseudo-boyfriend. “You can run along now.”

  “That’s all the gratitude I get?” He turned to Randy. “I mean, I ran like hell to get this to her.”

  She paled, keeping a firm grip on the folder, ensuring it would stay closed or they would have to pry it from her cold dead hands. “This wasn’t the folder I needed.”

  Randy’s cell rang and he went to answer it. Saved by the bell.

  She and her nemesis stared at each other, his look enigmatic and hers…murderous. There was no other word for it.

  Randy hung up. “I’m going to have to cut this short, Liv.” He glanced at Jonathon.

  “Great. I’ll walk you back to the office, hon,” he said, taking her arm, and because she didn’t really want to commit actual murder, she let him.

  “Sure. Thanks for lunch, Randy.”

  “You barely ate anything,” he pointed out.

  “She has to keep her girlish figure, doesn’t she?”

  Dead silence greeted Jonathon’s remark. Then Randy said, “I’ll call you later.”

  Randy’s cell phone rang again and with a last nod he dismissed them.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, she stalked down the hall, hissing at Jonathon whose long legs kept him even with her, “That was incredibly embarrassing.”


  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just psyched to see you weren’t literally in bed with him, since you sure as hell are figuratively.”

  That didn’t even deserve a denial, so once they got to the elevator she settled for ripping the manila folder and its contents in half with gusto, dumping it into her purse. “You know, I liked you a lot better when you were a mild-mannered consultant.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered, “that crack was out of line. I didn’t really think you’d, ah…I mean, I guess I was a little…ah…”

  “Whatever, fine, so you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “You sure you don’t want to just hand over your program so I can do what needs to be done?”

  “Giving up already, Jon? Nice to know I beat you.”

  He colored, and she was childishly pleased she had managed to get to him with the taunt.

  “If you had any sense, Liv, you wouldn’t even be developing something like this. You know how much damage it could do.”

  She stabbed the elevator call button with more force than it deserved. “Don’t try to turn the tables. And why did you pretend to be my boyfriend back there, anyway? Not satisfied pretending to be a management consultant?”

  “I don’t know. I’m as close to a boyfriend as you have, I guess.”

  She shoved him, hard, and he staggered back, surprise in his eyes.

  “Don’t ever mention last night to me again. Or I really will throw your ass in jail.”

  He hesitated, then nodded.

  She pressed the button again. Where was the damn elevator?

  “Liv! Hold on a second.”

  She turned in the direction of the voice. Randy was approaching from down the hallway, cell phone in hand, talking into it but keeping his eyes on them. Shoot. Just when they were about to get away.

  “No. That’s fine,” Randy said into the phone as he caught up to them and laid a casual hand on Liv’s arm. “It’s a little sooner than I planned for, but we’ll make it happen.”

  She heard a ding. Great. Now the elevator comes. Randy shook his head, indicating she shouldn’t board, and she longingly watched the doors open and then close again.

  With one last brisk “Okay,” Randy clicked off the phone and said, “Change of plans. Things are moving too fast to wait for the end of the month.”

  She glanced at Jonathon, not wanting to say too much, or anything, really, in front of him. “Okay. I’ll write up a status memo.”

  “I can type it for you, dear,” Jon offered out of the blue, seemingly oblivious to the look of scorn Randy shot him.

  “A memo isn’t what I have in mind, Liv. You know I don’t read.”

  “It’s amazing what you can do without a formal education, isn’t it?” Jon asked.

  “He’s joking,” she said quickly to Randy.

  “Yeah, well, whatever. Anyway, as I was saying, you know with respect to the off-site,” his tone lowered, “we have a place on the beach in the Bahamas.”

  “Actually, you were saying you couldn’t read.”

  “Don’t read,” Randy snapped back at Jon. “I happen to have a degree from Harvard.”

  “Legacy?” Jon asked in an undertone.

  “A house in the Bahamas!” Liv said as loud as she could, desperately. “That sounds just great.”

  Randy glared at Jon, but then went on. “It’s not that big a deal. Just a quarter mile or so of beach front with a small house.”

  Worth who knew how many millions.

  “Yours or the company’s?” God, Jon would just not shut up.

  “It’s a corporate retreat, but executive vice presidents,” he emphasized his title to Jon, as if he would be impressed, “get full access.” He turned back to Liv. “I’m going to need you to come down tomorrow. On that matter we, ah, discussed.”

  She hoped she was misunderstanding. “Tomorrow? Randy, I thought a month was too soon and—”

  “Don’t sweat the specifics. Very informal. Preliminary.” He gave the word special emphasis, glancing at Jon.

  “I really should stay on site at this stage,” she objected. “I need the mainframe for some of the calculations. Maybe I could Skype in instead of going there.”

  “You just can’t tear this girl away from work,” Jon gushed, tugging her to his side. Randy’s hand on her arm fell away of necessity. No matter how much testosterone was in the hallway, they weren’t going to play tug a war over her. “Believe me, I’ve tried!”

  “Maybe you have,” Randy said with a fake smile. “But I happen to be her boss. So if I tug her away, well…”

  There was a pause. Then Jon said, “Fabulous then. We’d love a short tropical break, wouldn’t we, sweetie.” He nuzzled her neck before she could stop him.

  We?

  Randy said quickly, “I’d love to have you join us, er…”

  “Ralph,” Jon supplied. “Ralph Meeker.”

  This was so getting out of hand.

  “Yes, well, we’d love to have you join us, Ralph, but it really is going to be a working session. You’d be bored.”

  “Nonsense. I’m never bored as long as my baby is in sight.”

  She shook her head at his audacity. He was into caricature territory now. As if any professional woman in her right mind would let her boyfriend act like this around her boss.

  Of course she wasn’t doing anything to stop him, so what did that say about her? She could only console herself with the thought that if he really were her boyfriend, he would so not be by this point.

  “Besides, I know you wouldn’t want it spread around that you were whisking an underling off to some kind of Bahamian playhouse, would you?” Jon asked innocently. “People would get the wrong idea. It is a public company you guys work for, isn’t it? I mean, I don’t know much about these kind of things, but isn’t even the appearance of impropriety kind of a no-no? I’d hate to have there be some anonymous phone call to the ethics helpline that would require an investigation or anything.”

  Randy looked at him hard, his mouth pursed. “But we’d know the truth wouldn’t we?”

  “Of course. Liv only has eyes for me.” Jon squeezed her harder. “But it’s better if I come along just so there aren’t any misunderstandings about the situation.”

  There was a slight hesitation. “Come on back to the room, Liv. For a minute. I want to talk to you.” Randy turned his back on them and said over his shoulder, “Alone.”

  When he strode off, she whispered urgently to Jonathon, “If you try to come back with me now, you’ll be giving yourself away. There’s no way I’d put up with it if you were my boyfriend, and Randy would think you were some control freak if I did, and God knows what else. Come on, use your head.”

  “Fine. I’ll wait out here. Be cool until we can work this out.”

  Her boss was holding the door open for her. “I’m glad to see your boyfriend didn’t insist on accompanying you,” he said as he closed it behind her. “No doubt he’s waiting at the elevator, though, and will be knocking on the door if you’re not back soon. I have to say, I’m a little surprised you’re with someone like him.”

  She was so not going there. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Of course not. I couldn’t give a shit about your boyfriend,” he said, reminding her who she was talking to. “I assume you understood this is the meeting I was talking about, about the merger, so Ralph won’t be going. Got it? This is serious business. He’s not invited. Period.”

  “I understand.”

  “It’s none of my business, but he seems more controlling than I’d expect a woman like you to put up with.”

  “You have no idea,” she muttered. “But of course don’t worry. I’ll take care of Ralph.”

  And she would.

  After Randy gave her a few more specifics, including that they would fly separately, she went out into the hallway where Jon was still waiting.

  “Everything okay?” he said casually, pushing the button for the elevator.

/>   “I wouldn’t go that far. But I did cover for you if that’s what you’re worried about. Randy just thinks you’re obnoxious. Which for the record, so do I. I can hardly tell you’re the same person as yesterday.”

  Their eyes met and then he skimmed his down, causing her pulse to quicken before he looked away.

  When the elevator came this time, they were able to board it without any interference, thank God. But he put his arm around her waist again, keeping her as close as possible, and she didn’t want to cause a scene over it, considering there were a few others in the elevator with them. Her body, not always correctly hooked up to her brain, relaxed in his arms, registering a slight buzz of pleasure she had no business feeling, a sense memory of hard muscles and soothing touches that was at war with her mind.

  “You are a piece of work, mister,” she said between her teeth.

  “What?” he asked softly, his breath in her ear, watching the lit numbers on their descent. “Has the big tropical trip been cancelled?”

  “Go to Hell.”

  Okay, that was too loud. One of the other occupants of the elevator, a man folding a subway map, glanced over at her and she studiously scanned her pumps until they got to the ground floor.

  When they stepped out, she pulled away from him and said levelly as they walked through the red-carpeted lobby toward the street entrance, “I don’t know if you were just trying to be a pain in the ass, which you apparently do so well, or thought I might actually allow you to accompany me on a business trip. But needless to say I’m going to the Bahamas by myself. Randy made that absolutely clear.”

  “And you do everything your bosses tell you to do, don’t you? A trip to the Bahamas. Nice. Is that the kind of perk that swayed you over to the dark side?”

  “No. It was more like being able to pay off my student loans. And it’s not the dark side,” she added. “Look, this program was coming anyway, Jon. If I don’t develop it, someone else will.”

  “I think that’s what Oppenheimer said about the H-bomb.”

  “You know, you’re a pompous know-it-all.”

  “And you’re a short-sighted, naive whiz who’s so high on what she can do she hasn’t stopped to think about whether she should.”