by Adams,Claire
“Would you like the good news first or the bad news, sir?”
I scratched at my chin. “Bad news.”
“Most of the computers are trashed. The intruder did his best to hack into your system, and when he couldn't, he simply destroyed the hard drives instead.”
“Wait, he couldn't get in?”
“That's the good news, sir. Your data is safe.”
I exhaled, a huge wave of relief washing over me. I knew I'd done the right thing by hiring the most expensive–and best–data encryption company in the country. It had turned out to be money well spent.
“Yeah, the perp was obviously an expert. According to the guys in tech, he hacked pretty deep into the system, but still couldn't get past the final security features, the ones protecting the highly sensitive data. So, I guess he just got pissed and decided to destroy the computers instead.”
“That doesn't matter, computers can be replaced, and we've got backup of all of our data. Was anything else stolen?”
“Nothing that we can tell, sir. It appears they were only after data.”
I nodded. “Any leads in the investigation?”
“Nothing concrete yet,” Alan responded.
“I have an idea who's behind this. Unfortunately, I have no way to prove it unless you can bring me something.”
“Let me guess. Brendan Savage?”
As soon as I heard the name, a shudder of disgust and anger rippled through me. Brendan Savage was my fiercest competitor. Over the course of the last decade, his firm Savage Inc. had come perilously close to toppling mine from the leading spot.
If he were behind this break in, as I suspected, this wouldn't have been the first time he'd tried to get ahead of me using less than legal means. He wanted that top spot more than anything and was prepared to do whatever it would take to get there—legal or not.
Savage was charming, suave, sophisticated, and narcissistic. He was also without a shred of conscience. In other words, he was the perfect psychopath, granted (as far as I knew, anyway) his psychopathy hadn't extended as far as actually murdering anyone. Yet.
Despite having the best investigators on the case, I suspected it would be a futile exercise to try to pin it on him. He was far too intelligent and cunning to leave a trail connecting this crime with himself or his company. Still, I knew he was behind it. Call it a gut feeling.
“What would you have us do now?” Alan asked.
“There isn't much we can do. We just have to let the PI do his job and see if he comes up with anything. Meanwhile, I think it's time for a security upgrade.”
“I was thinking so, too, sir.”
“Use whatever funds you need, Alan. Make this place impenetrable. I don't want this happening again.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Excellent. Now, I'll have to make sure all of our employees know that they've got an unexpected day off on Monday. And then, I'll have to order a whole new set of computers and arrange for those to be brought in and set up on Monday.”
“It's gonna cost a packet, huh?”
I sighed. “Yeah. But it's going to cost way more in terms of lost productivity. Still, there's nothing else we can do, really.”
“All right, sir. I'll go meet up with the PI, and we'll report back to you if we discover anything.”
“Thanks, Alan,” I replied. “I appreciate all your hard work.”
“No problem, sir.”
I watched as he hurried off, and despite the severity of the current situation; I couldn't help but think of Lilah. I checked my phone, hoping for some message from her. The night we'd spent together had been incredible. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so passionate, so intense, so in tune with anyone. She'd awoken something within me–something glorious, joyous, and full of life and energy.
I calculated the time difference in my head. It would be late in the day in Paris, surely she would have been up and about. I wondered why she hadn’t messaged me. Was she still concerned that romantic feelings between her and I would get in the way of our working relationship? That she wouldn’t be able to get the most out of her career if she got involved with me?
They were valid concerns considering that she was a very driven, ambitious woman, who was focused on her career; but still, what was happening between us didn't feel like a fling, not to me at least. It felt…real.
With everything that had just happened, I had enough on my plate. The last thing I needed was to play cat and mouse. So, I typed out a message to her.
Hi, Lilah. I trust you got the note I left in the hotel room. I'm sure you must be cruising around Paris by now, taking in all the sights and sounds and tastes…everything awesome about that wonderful city.
I don't know if you've booked your ticket back yet, but no need to be in a hurry. There's been a situation at the office and all the computers are out. It's going to take at least a day to get new ones installed and ready for Tuesday morning.
Anyway, I was just thinking about you. Last night was amazing, and I can't get you off my mind. I really wish I'd been able to stay and enjoy Paris with you, but this was a genuine emergency–I really had to get back. Looking forward to seeing you when you return, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the trip.
I hit send, then stood around waiting to see that the message had been read. And for every second that I stood waiting, it seemed time was dragging more and more slowly. Eventually, the delivery showed that she'd seen the message and was typing a response.
I waited anxiously.
The message came through after a few seconds. I read it with eager eyes.
Hi, Asher. Thanks so much for organizing the driver and car. I've been all over Paris to a bunch of museums and cafés and more. I'll sort out the flight later tonight. Thanks again, see you at the office on Tuesday.
I frowned. Her tone almost seemed cold. I knew it could sometimes be tough to decipher tones from text messages, but she hadn't mentioned anything about the night we'd spent together or said anything that indicated she was thinking about me. It was just a short, matter-of-fact message, something that one might write to a friend, perhaps.
I started typing out a reply, but then stopped. I shook my head and trudged over to the car, where my driver was waiting for me.
“Are you going to drive again, sir?” he asked.
“Not now. I'm… I'm not in the mood.”
“Very well. Where shall I take you, sir?”
“Home.”
“Of course,” Alfred reached to open my door.
I paused. “Actually, no, not home. I don't want to go back home and mope. Let me call up a friend quickly.”
I whizzed through my contacts on my phone, found Bryce’s number, and dialed.
“Bryce speaking, what can I do ya for?”
The moment I heard the voice of my personal trainer, my resolve was set. The ex-marine would surely be up for just the sort of fix I needed at the moment to help relieve me of the frustration of the break-in and Lilah's cold attitude.
“Hey, Bryce. It's Asher.”
“I thought you were in France, son?!”
“Just got back. There was an emergency at the office.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, but don't worry about that. I was just wondering, you up for heading out to the shooting range?”
I heard him chuckle slowly on the other side of the line.
“You got some angst you wanna get out?”
“I do.”
“I'll bring the automatic rifles.”
“Great. I’ll be there in forty-five.”
“See you there, soldier! Lock and load!”
“See you there, Bryce.”
I turned to Alfred. “You heard that, right? Take me to the hills.”
CHAPTER 24
Lilah
I had arrived back in the US in the late afternoon. I had never flown first class before and it had been quite an experience. After that level of service, respect, and luxury, I definitely wanted to do
it again. The next time, however, I would foot the bill for it myself. I didn't want anyone paying my way.Since I had the rare luxury of free time while all the new computers were set up at the office and all the data restored from the cloud backup, I figured I should see Ed since I hadn't seen him for nearly two weeks. Maybe he could help me decipher all the mixed emotions I was dealing with.
My mind was like a revolving door, and Asher was stuck in it going around and around. He had messaged me on Sunday, and he'd seemed to try to express what came across as genuine feelings of affection for me–but part of me just couldn't shake the suspicion that I might be yet another notch on the bedpost.
I kept thinking back to how hard I'd once fallen for another man—Jacob. Or rather, how hard I'd let myself fall for another man. Because that was it, wasn't it?
Jacob hadn't forced me to fall in love with him. Sure, he'd been charming, good looking, and suave. He'd certainly made it easy to fall in love with him. But, looking back, I also remembered there was a time when I questioned him. There was a tiny gut feeling that I’d ignored. I distinctly remember the moment where I'd thought to myself, You're falling for this guy. Are you sure this is a wise thing to do?
And, I gave in to it. I ignored my gut feeling, abandoned my logic, and gave myself—heart and soul—to this man who'd seemed perfect in most every way.
I'd blinded myself to reality, to his faults, to all the blaring red flags that anyone else would have seen. In truth, some of my friends did see them. I just rationalized them.
And what did it leave me with? Heartbreak. Being dumped a month before our wedding.
I hadn't thought I'd ever even consider opening myself up to another man again, trusting again, or loving again. All of my faith in love had been shattered, crushed beneath the heels of an empty soul who took my heart and kicked it out into the street, then stomped all over it before walking off laughing.
I shook my head. I had to get my mind off things of the past.
I took out my phone, pulled up Ed's name in my contacts, and gave him a call.
“Hey, Eddie.”
“Hey, sis, how was your trip to Paris?”
“Pretty damn amazing, actually.”
I didn't want to talk about Asher or what had happened between Asher and I. So if Ed asked, I'd just brush it off and switch topics. After all, aside from what had been going on in my head, I had actually had a great time in Paris, even if I’d had to do most of the exploring alone–and I had to tell someone about the art, culture, and history I'd had the chance to take in. I knew Ed had been there a few times to play shows with his band, so he would be a great person to talk to about it, without having the thought of Asher hovering over me all the while.
“Cool, cool. I wonder how it's changed since I was last there?”
“Well, do you wanna get a beer and we can talk about it? And, I'll show you the pics I took.”
“Sounds great! I've got a couple photos on this phone, actually. We can compare pics and stories. See you at McGinty's in an hour?”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
***
“So, how cool was the Louvre? How much time did you get to spend walking around it?” Ed asked, smiling as he flipped through the photos I'd taken on my phone.
“It was seriously breathtaking. I mean, I walked around it for a couple of hours, but it felt like only five minutes.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. I think I spent a whole afternoon their last time I was in Paris. Just wandered around from around lunch time until a security guard came and kicked me out at closing time.”
“I'll have to go back again. I didn't get to see nearly enough of it.”
“You will have to. And hopefully billionaire boy will foot the bill again, huh?”
So far, we'd managed to avoid talking about Asher, but without even mentioning his name, Ed had brought a flood of memories rushing through my head.
“Yeah,” I said, somewhat half-heartedly. “I probably will end up going back for another meeting, I think.”
“So, how's old Asher doing, huh?”
“He's, uh, he's good.”
Ed handed my phone back to me and frowned before taking a swig of his beer.
“Really? I know that tone. Something doesn't seem right about this.”
“It's just…ya know, Eddie, I don't really want to get into it.”
He sipped on his beer again and nodded. “Okay. But you know I've always got your back, right, sis? I mean, if he's being a jerk, or whatever, you know I'm here.”
I couldn't help but smile.
“And, what are you going to do if he is being a jerk? Kick his ass for me? I'm not in high school any more, Eddie.”
He grinned. “Sometimes I feel like I still am, though,” he replied. “But seriously, if you wanna talk about it… I mean, I know I'm a guy and your brother, so maybe you don't think I'll get it. But hey, I've been on this rock for ten years longer than you, and I think I've learned a few things along the way. Maybe I can help, you know.”
I leaned across the table and squeezed his hand. “I know, I know. You've been the best brother–and friend–you could possibly have been all my life. And, I love you for that.”
“Thanks, sis. You know, you're the only one in the family who I felt ever got me. The only one who really cared. And, you always believed in me when everyone else was telling me I was crazy trying to follow the path of a rocker, when everyone else was saying I'd end up homeless in the streets, you were the one who kept telling me: 'I believe in you, Ed. You're my hero. You can do anything you want, if you really believe in yourself.' And you said it with such conviction-”
“Because I was just a kid,” I interrupted. “I believed it.”
“Yeah, exactly! Your childlike faith got me through many dark times. And now look where I am. I made it!”
I looked at him as pride swelled in my chest. “You really did make it, Eddie. I'm proud of you.”
“And, you have no idea how proud I am of you. Hell, you stormed into that company, what's it called, Sinclair whatever, and you gave them hell! You blew ‘em outta the water with your ideas. And you're gonna get right to the top, and nobody–especially not billionaire boy–is gonna stand in your way.
“You don't need his help; you don't need anything from that guy. You don't even need a dime from him. Because it's all you, you understand? Your talent, your ambition, your drive, your hard work–they've got you this far. And if that guy thinks he can play you, well, well, he can just go jump right out of his damn skyscraper and be done with it. Because there's no stopping you, whether you're working for him, or working for someone else. You're gonna be at the very top in just a few short years, sis, just a few short years. I can feel it! I know it!”
“Aww Ed, you're just… You're the best. Seriously.”
I stood, walked around the table to where Ed was sitting, and gave him a big hug.
“I'm just gonna go to the little girls' room. I'll be back in a sec.”
“Sure thing. Hey, do me a favor, grab me one more beer from the bar when you come back?”
“Will do.”
I went off to the bathroom, feeling recharged and energized after Eddie’s inspiring speech. When I returned, I made a beeline for the bar. As I waited for the bartender to turn my way so I could get her attention, I caught sight of a strikingly handsome man, dressed impeccably in an Italian suit staring intently at me. His perfectly styled, blond hair was combed back in a side part and dark stubble peppered his powerful, square jaw. Ice-blue eyes gazed at me from beneath imposing eyebrows.
For a few moments, I couldn't take my eyes off of him–but then I felt suddenly uneasy and broke my trance. He, however, maintained his interest in me. After a half smile, he picked up his martini and sidled up to me at the bar.
“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “You don't know me…yet. But I’m hoping to change that. I would certainly like to get to know you.”
“Really? And who do you think
I am that I might be so interesting to get to know?” I’d seen his kind before. They think they’re smooth. If you call them on it, one of two things will happen: You’ll either trip them up and they’ll have nothing, or they’ll feed you some bullshit line and you’ll at least get a good laugh. Either way, they are full of it. I expected no different from this one.
“I believe you are the lovely and talented Lilah Maxwell, rising star of The Sinclair Agency. It's a pleasure to finally see you in the flesh. You're every bit as gorgeous as my…assistant…says you are.”
I was immediately taken aback. Who on earth was this devilishly good-looking stranger, and how did he know who I was? I was both intrigued and slightly frightened.
“And how, precisely, do you know who I am?”
“We work in the same field, you and I,” he replied.
“Oh, really? And who might you be?”
“The name's Savage. Brendan Savage. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lilah. Very, very pleased indeed.
CHAPTER 25
Asher
I stared up at the starry sky as I sipped on my Glenfiddich forty-year-old whiskey. I enjoyed coming up to the turret of my home to think. I'd set up a moderately powerful telescope because of a lifelong interest in astronomy. Out in the hills beyond the city, the sky was clear and mostly free of the light pollution which made the city sky murky and orange-tinted at night and blocked out most of the stars.
Here, the sky was dark, and stars were spread across it from horizon to horizon.
Of course, the stars weren’t what was on my mind. That would be Lilah. We'd barely said a word to one another in the office the whole week. She had responded to my texts, but only with short replies that seemed designed to be evasive. It was looking as if she had reverted to keeping a cool distance between us. I hadn't pushed things at all, just like Colonel Tanaka had suggested, even after getting that cold reply to my heartfelt message.
I’d given it a lot of thought before she even returned from Paris and had decided to leave the ball in her court. I was sure that she knew what my feelings for her were. I felt I'd made them pretty clear. If she was willing to reciprocate, well, that would be wonderful, but if not, I wasn't sure if I could keep playing this game. Falling into my arms one minute, then acting as if we were nothing but acquaintances the next—it was not only confusing, it was draining, psychologically and emotionally.
