by Lee Winter
Wincing, Catherine reached for her wine glass. Her mother would be horrified. The loss of face alone would torment her for months. For a brief moment, she wondered whether she should warn her.
Why would I, though? I’m not even family anymore to them. Her parents had made that clear.
“So it seems a bit one-sided, Ansom copping all the blame for MediCache,” Lauren continued. She began forking through her food. “They all did it. But especially Lesser. It was his damned idea, for God’s sake.”
“I know.” Catherine nodded. “I know it’s hard, but sometimes you don’t get everyone.” She speared some noodles on her fork. “Unfortunately.”
“And are you okay with that?”
“No. But I’m practical. This isn’t over. If Lesser runs for politics, I will make it my life’s mission to get him then. Aside from everything else, his racism alone is disgusting. I will make sure he doesn’t get away with anything.”
“But I really wanted to nail his ass to the wall now,” Lauren said with a growl. “With his IT skills, who he knows, who he can blackmail, his dirt files—imagine what he’d be like teamed up with real power.”
“He’s clever, it’s true. He was always two steps ahead of us. He anticipates every move like a chess master. It is annoying.”
Lauren looked thoughtful, then took a sip of wine. “Maybe we need to do something basic, then. Think like a pawn.”
“Oh?”
“I have an idea. Leave it with me,” Lauren said slowly.
“Sure.” Catherine wiped her fingers with a paper napkin. Her gaze followed the flow of Lauren’s neck as she continued eating.
Lauren finished off her plate and put the dishes in the sink.
“You really are very beautiful,” Catherine said as she watched. Her tone must have had the desired effect, because Lauren’s head snapped around, one eyebrow sliding up.
“Catherine Ayers, are you flirting with me?”
“It’s highly possible. We are still in the honeymoon phase, after all.”
Lauren smiled, running water over the dishes. “No argument from me.”
“Excellent. I happen to have a bed that’s missing you.”
“Not just the bed, I hope.”
“Oh, definitely not.” Catherine was rather proud of just how smoky her voice sounded.
A fork clattered into the sink. “God, woman, you’re impossible to resist.”
Catherine’s fingers toyed with the top button on her shirt. “The dishes can wait. Wouldn’t you say?”
Chapter 32 –
Fixed
Lauren sat in the foyer of a spacious, luxurious office twenty-nine floors up that had no displayed name. It did, however, have a big logo on the gleaming chrome wall. A pentalobe.
“Our CEO will see you now,” a middle-aged woman said, ushering her down the end of a long, bright hallway.
Lauren rose from the sofa. Her plan was so stupidly simple. The Fixers had fired Lesser. They had to be furious with him for turning informant on their clients. So, she’d simply ask the CEO for something on their traitorous ex-employee. The dirt didn’t have to be on the record. It could be background information for her to tease out elsewhere. And maybe they’d be more than happy to hurt him by proxy, keeping their own hands clean. Actually, it sounded exactly like the sort of plan these political schemers would appreciate. Right up their alley.
Lauren glanced around. Whatever she’d expected from this shady seller of corporate and political advice and favors, this was not it. It was an airy, expensive office with lots of glass and impressive views. She came to a wooden door, which the assistant, walking ahead of Lauren, swung open in front of her.
“Ms. Lauren King’s here,” she announced. She turned and left, closing the door behind after Lauren stepped through.
A black leather executive chair faced the window. An odd, faint hiss filled the air. The desk was frosted glass with shiny steel legs. Perfectly neat piles of paperwork were stacked at one end.
“I suppose I’m not surprised you found us,” a voice from the chair said. “But I’d half expected it would be Cat doing the visit.” Spinning around, the chair came to face her. “Hello, again, Ms. King.”
Lauren promptly sank into the visitor’s seat opposite. “Michelle? You’re the…you?”
“Who did you expect ran this organization?”
Lauren shook her head. “But aren’t you the political contacts person?”
“I can be both.”
“Oh.”
“How did you find us?”
“Your address is on your secret website.”
“Ah, I see. That security intrusion that had our former security head frothing a little while back. So that was you? Well, I suppose Lesser stitched you up in the usual manner? He always took any unauthorized access to the site he created as some sort of personal slight.”
Lauren didn’t bother agreeing to the obvious.
They regarded each other.
“I assume this is to be an off-the-record conversation?” Michelle asked.
“Yes.”
“This room has a white-noise dampening field in it, as well as some cutting-edge technology that will prevent any recording devices from working.”
“I don’t have any.”
“How interesting.” She cocked her head. “So why are you here?”
Lauren flattened her hands on the desk. “Before I get to that, I don’t get it. Why have any role involving MediCache if you hated the idea of what it really does? You’re in charge, so you could have ordered Lesser to shut his mouth and decline any request to create that software for Ansom.”
“It was out of my hands from the start. Lesser independently came up with the idea of copying MediCache’s veterans’ data, after working with two organizations at separate times which used biosecurity tech—”
“Ansom and the FBI.”
“I won’t be confirming that. Anyway, my overambitious employee suggested to the bosses of each company that he’d had this great idea of how they could use each other. They did the deal between themselves. They were so enthusiastic when they saw its potential, and Lesser knew very well that I couldn’t kick over their precious anthill. All I could do was ensure we continued in the role we were hired for.”
“Which was what?”
“To assist in supporting MediCache being popularized. I had to sit on my hands and pretend I didn’t know there was any more to it.” She pursed her lips. “So no, I couldn’t destroy that project, and in so doing, alienate a few major clients, but a reporter could expose it for the danger it was. Congratulations, by the way. Your story stopped a nightmare and also gave me grounds to fire Lesser.”
“Couldn’t you have fired him before then?”
“In the past, our directors, who are the only ones with the power to fire employees, have decided Lesser was too talented to lose, despite his unsavory leanings. But after your story, they decided he might be clever, but he was disloyal, and discretion is the number-one thing we promise our clients. So he was axed.” Her smile was wide.
Suspicion filled Lauren. “Were you really bothered by MediCache? Or were you were just using it as a way to get rid of an employee you hated?”
“Really, Ms. King? You’d love that to be all there was to this, wouldn’t you? You like the black hat, white hat thing, no pesky shades of gray. But I can hate a project for more than one reason.”
Lauren tilted her head. “What other reasons did you have?”
Michelle waved her hand. “Irrelevant.”
“Really? Can I guess?” She leaned forward. “I think you find it personally repugnant because you weren’t lying when you said you’re a student of history. You’re Jewish. Never again, right?”
Surprise filtered across her face. “I am a little impressed Cat remembered that conversation
, especially given neither of us were particularly sober that night. I shared a little more than I intended. But yes, you’re right. Some lines should never be crossed. That one’s mine.” She laced her fingers again in front of her. “Now then, enough of me. Your turn. Why are you here?”
“I want Lesser.”
“He’s no longer in our employ. I fail to see—”
“He wants to run for office. Congress, probably. It’s where the power is.”
Michelle’s lips thinned and surprised lanced her features. “I…see.”
“He has dirt on powerful people, and he could get there.”
“He not only could, he would.” Her face became grim, and she drummed her fingers on the desk. “That cannot be allowed to happen.”
“No, it can’t. And honestly? We don’t know how to stop him. I’m hoping maybe you have something we can use against him.”
Michelle considered that for a moment. She leaned forward and hit an intercom button. “Tilly, can you bring me Lesser’s package?”
As they waited, Michelle studied her. “You look good. Marriage suits you.”
Lauren kept her face neutral. Did everyone know? Was it on some DC insiders’ newsletter she should have subscribed to? “Thanks. You should try it sometime. Or…you know…again.” She couldn’t resist the dig.
Michelle’s eyes narrowed to slits. “No thanks. Once was more than enough.”
“Your ex-husband wanted us to ruin you, you know. Alberto was very hopeful we would succeed.”
“I’ll bet. And yet…you haven’t.” She shot her a curious look.
“We’re catching sharks this week, not small-fry.”
Michelle laughed. “How interesting you see us that way.” She was surprisingly beautiful with her face relaxed like that.
Lauren felt the pang she usually did when she thought of all the ways this woman had used her charms to take advantage of Catherine. Her jaw went hard.
The assistant reappeared with a folder and an orange USB drive on top.
“Thank you, Tilly.”
The woman bustled out again.
Michelle looked at Lauren. “You had some hackers expose SmartPay, if I recall. Give them this.” She pushed the thumb drive across the desk.
“What’s on it?”
“Evidence Douglas Lesser created the SmartPay virus and was the one to release it.”
“He did it?” That bastard.
“He did.”
“Wasn’t that virus created by order of the Fixers? Won’t this get you into trouble?”
“Our only role in SmartPay was to bring together certain parties after the fact who were interested in whatever data the virus would net, and to provide security during the rollout to prevent certain other individuals getting in the way.” She looked pointedly at Lauren. “Lesser built that virus before we’d ever heard of him. Although he did get subcontracted to be our IT expert based on his exceptional abilities in creating it.”
“You took him on knowing he was a virus creator? How could you—”
“I wasn’t CEO then. I wouldn’t have said yes to that.”
“I see.” Lauren looked at the USB thumb drive.
“This is full circle for you, isn’t it?” Michelle said after a moment. “Your first big break was the SmartPay story, and now you know the architect of the virus. You can put him away for decades with this information.”
“Yes.” Lauren turned the drive over in her hands, debating whether to ask what she most wanted to know. “Regarding Catherine…” She hesitated and looked up. “I realize you weren’t the boss then, but what would have happened if you said no to the assignment on her?”
“Actually, I could have said no. I chose not to.”
“Why?”
“She intrigued me. She was a very impressive figure in DC. A bold, passionate journalist, totally unafraid, who took no prisoners in her news stories. Her opinion pieces, too, were setting the place on fire. She was all anyone was talking about. Her fearlessness was such a breath of fresh air. She was someone I very much wanted to meet.”
“You did a lot more than meet her.”
“Yes.” Michelle smirked, eyes becoming half-lidded. “I certainly did.”
“So you just decided to mix business and pleasure? Because you were attracted to her? That it?”
“Attracted to her? I don’t know if that’s what it was exactly. But power is a draw in itself. She had so much power, and she didn’t even realize it. She wasn’t even aware of her greatness. It was heady being that close to her back then, at the peak of her fame. You wouldn’t understand. You never met the Catherine I did—so pure in purpose and ambition, at the height of her glory. The Catherine you know isn’t much like her. She’s just…less radiant. Less powerful. Less.”
It was such a cruel barb. Uncertainty flooded Lauren—as Michelle no doubt intended. For a moment, she tensed, as doubts tap danced all around the edges of her mind. Her brain wanted to whisper that she’d never known the real Catherine.
But what was real?
Real was now. Real was the woman she married. The woman who loved her back. She was as real as whomever the woman was Michelle had dated.
She regarded the Fixers’ CEO. It was odd, now that she thought of it—Michelle’s occasionally belligerent, goading tone that she sometimes adopted. It was deliberately combative. Designed to hurt and mock.
Lauren considered it further. In fact, each time they met, Michelle went out of her way to upset them and try to make Lauren angry or jealous. She just kept pricking at her, teasing, slicing into her insecurities. She’d been especially rude the first time they’d met, at the State Fair.
But why? Why be needlessly rude? Maybe that was just who she was?
She turned that over and eyed Michelle, whose expression was more watchful than smug. No, she seemed too calculating and shrewd for that. It had to be deliberate. But why?
What does anger ever do for anyone?
Lauren thought hard. Angry people are off-balance. Angry people never see what’s right in front of them. And they never ask the right questions or think of the obvious answers, because they’re distracted by emotions. Blinded.
Oh.
Did she dare? Ask those questions and not get distracted? Lauren swallowed, drew in a deep breath, and asked the thing she most dreaded discussing. “Tell me how it happened. You getting involved with Catherine. Everything.”
“You want all the gory details? Are you a voyeur? Is that your kink? My, my, I’m surprised at you.” There was that goading tone again, but those still, wary eyes contained nothing playful in the least.
Lauren waited her out in silence, willing her hands not to curl into telltale balls of anxiety. “The details,” she finally said, her voice as even as she could manage. “Tell me. I need to know.”
Her lips curved, but Michelle’s eyes were now darker. “You wouldn’t want to know.”
“I agree. Tell me anyway.”
Michelle sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. Especially now.” She rubbed her temple. “Catherine Ayers was delicious to study. The most impressive target I’d ever had to get to know. I admired her strut. Her confidence. I bumped into her, on purpose, of course, at a media Christmas drinks event in 2012. One thing led to another.”
“So the seduction was deliberate?”
Michelle hesitated. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Ah. You tripped and landed in her bed?” Lauren drawled.
“I…I had absolutely no idea she was gay.” Michelle’s eyes lifted to the ceiling. “Well, not until she kissed me on our third meeting. I didn’t expect it, but suddenly…new possibilities presented themselves. I realized I could take advantage of that side of her. Accelerate things.”
“You lead her to believe that you’d profi
led her weaknesses in advance and worked out some big mastermind scheme and decided that seducing her was the best way to get her. Now you say it was an accident even finding out she was gay. So which was it? Why did you say any of that crap to her at the fair? You enjoy being heartless? Twisting the knife?” Lauren’s tone turned cold. “Is that your kink?”
Michelle’s nostrils flared.
For the first time, Lauren saw real anger in her eyes.
“I told Cat what she needed to hear,” Michelle snapped. “Actually, I did her a favor. She could move on with her life, shoving me into a box marked ‘pure bitch.’ It’s cleaner for her. Better.” Her anger faded, and an odd look crossed her eyes.
Lauren stared. Why did Michelle care how Catherine felt? Why give her a moment’s thought at all? A job was a job. In fact, she’d destroyed Catherine so well, she’d even been promoted. Was this guilt? But surely she’d done jobs like this before and not…
It took a moment before Lauren could finally identify that strange expression. “Oh.” Lauren murmured. “I get it.”
Michelle gave her a sharp look. “No, I doubt you do.”
“Really? See from where I sit, it looks like you were some rising-star political consultant, with the good life, a husband at your side, ambition—everything’s great until the day the new mark you admired so much suddenly kissed you.” Lauren paused. “You felt something, didn’t you?”
Michelle’s face was awash in disbelief.
“And you couldn’t stay away. Catherine Ayers was powerful and intriguing. You were supposed to just befriend her, but you wanted a taste of more. So you dated her and told yourself you were getting close for the job. And she was fascinating. Then the day came that you had to destroy her. But you’re a professional, right? You went ahead and did your job. You ruined her. And it was utterly devastating.” She paused. “But not just for Catherine.”
Michelle had gone pale, perfectly still, her breathing shallow.
