by Diane Kelly
Josh eventually found the courage to speak. “Your sites are awesome.”
“Thanks.” She gave him another smile and this time he managed to maintain eye contact. Good for him. It was a baby step, but it was progress.
Josh pulled his laptop from his bag and set it on the table, punching the button to boot up the machine.
Kira noted the bug-eyed logo on the back of his screen. “Alienware?” Her brows rose as she looked his machine over. “Wow. You’ve got some really nice equipment.”
Josh managed a small smile. “Thanks.”
I supposed to a computer geek like him showing off his expensive hardware was the equivalent of an alpha male flexing his muscles. Kira seemed impressed, so Josh’s strategy appeared to be working.
Kira pulled her chair up closer next to Josh and the two began to compare computers. Just as Kira had admired Josh’s hardware, he complimented her on her software, which ranged from an extended version of Flash, to Photoshop, to some type of moviemaking program.
When the two began communicating in technical lingo and computer jargon, Nick and I could no longer join in the conversation. They might as well have been speaking a foreign language.
Nick and I eyed each other over our coffee, neither of us saying anything for a while, not wanting to risk throwing Josh off his tenuous game. Eventually, the conversation steered back to Josh’s job.
“So you hack into computers?” Kira asked Josh.
Now that she was looking at him instead of the computer screen, he seemed to shrink again. He nodded.
Might as well help the poor squirt out, huh? “Josh is amazing,” I said. “He can hack into any system.” It was true. Josh hadn’t met a firewall yet that he couldn’t break through and he could decrypt code in less time than it took me to log on.
Nick played his part as wingman, piling on. “I don’t know what we’d do without Josh’s tech skills.”
Also true, though I could do without his sometimes sniveling attitude.
“I’m a bit of a hacker myself,” Kira said. “Haven’t met anyone yet who’s better than me.” She narrowed her eyes at Josh. “You up for a challenge?”
Josh shrugged. “Okay.”
Kira gestured to a businessman in the corner. “See that guy on his laptop? First one to hack his system wins.”
“Piece of cake.” Josh grinned. “You’re on.”
The two of them began pecking away on their keyboards and running their fingers over their mouse pads, presumably accessing the coffee shop’s Wi-Fi system and manipulating their way into the guy’s machine. It was a geek-off.
As Nick and I watched their frantic movements, I sent him a discreet text. Is this some type of nerd foreplay?
Nick checked his phone when it buzzed with my incoming text. A slight smile crossed his lips. Hell if I know, he replied.
“Watch,” Josh whispered a few seconds later. “I’ll open his CD drive.” He punched a few more keys and, sure enough, the CD port on the man’s computer slid open. The man looked down, frowned, and pushed it back closed.
Nick and I exchanged glances. Knowing Josh could so easily infiltrate a stranger’s system had me wondering what else he might have hacked into. Our banking records? Personnel files? Personal e-mails? I’d considered him little more than a pesky twerp, but perhaps he was much more of a threat than I’d realized.
Kira raised her hands and bowed forward to Josh. “All hail the mighty hacker, supreme lord of cyberspace.”
Josh leaned back in his chair now, all cocky confidence.
When our cups ran dry, Josh and Kira packed up their computers and we stood to go.
Kira slid her bags back over her shoulders, the straps once again making an X across her chest. “It was nice meeting all of you.”
Nick and I both gave Josh the eye. He took the hint.
“Um … how about a movie this weekend?” Josh asked Kira.
“That would be great,” she replied, suggesting the latest superhero flick. I knew Josh had already seen it, twice in fact, but at least he had the good sense not to mention it. He programmed her cell number into his phone and we parted ways.
Josh beamed as we made our way back to Nick’s truck. “I nailed it!”
Nick and I exchanged glances. If not for our early intervention, Kira probably would’ve gone on her merry way after two seconds. But no sense ruining Josh’s newfound confidence.
“Way to go, dude.” Nick raised his hand, offering Josh a high five.
Josh slapped Nick’s palm, then pulled his hand down to his hip in a victorious fist. “Yes-s-s!”
I noticed Nick check his watch as he drove Josh and me back to our cars at the office.
“Late for dinner?” I asked. Nick had lived with his mother since he’d returned from Mexico, though lately he’d been making noises about finding a place of his own.
“No,” he said. “I’ve got another date.”
“Another date?” Sheez. That made two nights in a row. Nick was a man slut! A hot flare of anger lit up in me. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
Nick shot me a meaningful look. “I’ve wasted quite a bit of time, Tara.”
I wanted to tell him that his time spent waiting for me to make up my mind had not been wasted. That I had come around. That as soon as I could get Brett alone and have a heart-to-heart with him, Nick and I would be free to explore our relationship. But I couldn’t very well do that with Josh sitting next to me. I didn’t want the entire office knowing our business.
I was worried, though. I’d seen those girls on the Big D site. All of them were attractive. Some were younger than me; many were prettier. All of them had bigger breasts. Not hard to outdo a 32A. No doubt a few of them might be interesting to a guy like Nick. The angry flare in me blazed into rage-fueled fear.
“You trying someone new tomorrow night, too?” I spat.
“Nope,” Nick replied.
Good. “I’m sure your mother will be glad to have you home for a change.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t have a date,” Nick said. “I just said I wasn’t trying someone new.”
I shot him a questioning look.
His eyes locked on mine. “I’m having dinner with my fiancée tomorrow night.”
“Ex-fiancée,” I corrected.
He shrugged and looked away, as if the “ex” were irrelevant.
Damn! I needed to move fast or Nick might reconcile with the woman. Things just kept getting worse!
As Nick pulled into the lot, I dug in my purse for my keys. My fingers brushed against a cool piece of plastic the size of dice. It was Josh’s GPS device that the three of us had used on a recent case. I’d been meaning to return it to Josh but kept forgetting. Things tended to get lost in the deep recesses of my purse. For all I knew, the Holy Grail was down in the bottom somewhere, along with that Perfectly Plum lipstick I couldn’t seem to find.
I closed my fingers around the GPS and, as discreetly as possible, eased it from my purse. I reached my hand behind me and shoved the gadget into the crevice between the seat and backrest. I might not have been able to sabotage Nick’s venture on the Big D Dating site, but I’d find a way to sabotage his date tonight. I had to. I couldn’t risk losing Nick before I even got a chance with him.
I climbed into my car, started the engine, and drove out of the parking lot, giving Nick and Josh time to leave as I circled around the block. Once I verified they’d left the lot, I pulled back in and parked. I scurried into the building and up to Josh’s office, where I searched through his box of spy gadgets until I found the instructions for the GPS device. I loaded the app on my cell phone and programmed in the unique code for the unit.
I supposed I should have felt guilty. Following Nick and trying to ruin his date would be a horrible, rotten, no-good thing to do. But I needed to buy myself some time. Besides, all’s fair in love and war, right?
I wasn’t sure whether this was love, but it was definitely war.
chapter ten
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Operation: First-Date Flop
I arrived home to find Alicia lying prone on my couch. She was dressed in her usual sophisticated office attire, which she hadn’t bothered to change out of. Her black silk blouse was wrinkled, as were her gray linen pants. The pumps she’d kicked off lay at haphazard angles on the floor next to the couch.
Also crumpled on the floor was the gorgeous Monique Lhuillier wedding gown she’d scored for a mere seventy-five bucks at a resale shop. I’d dragged her to the thrift store when I needed some cheap undercover outfits. At first, Alicia had been appalled by the idea of secondhand clothing. But when she realized what amazing deals she could get on barely worn designer items she’d gone nuts, filling her entire trunk with bags of bargains.
Alicia’s eyes were closed. She didn’t bother to open them when she heard me come in. She simply sighed loudly to acknowledge my presence and to alert me to her mood, which apparently hadn’t changed since she’d moved in with me the night before.
The pitcher of sangria sat on the coffee table, mostly empty, only a few orange and peach slices left in the bottom. Next to the pitcher was a glass with a half inch of reddish liquid in the bottom. Alicia hadn’t wasted any time getting wasted.
“Alcohol isn’t the answer,” I told her.
She opened one bloodshot eye. “It is if the question is ‘how can I get shit faced and forget about my dumb-ass boyfriend?’”
“Ah,” I said. “You’re right.” She’d always been smarter than me.
I picked up the rumpled wedding gown, held it by the shoulders, and gave it a good shake to fluff it out. Once the dress had settled back into shape, I slid it onto the hanger and hung it in my coat closet.
“You might as well throw that dress in the trash,” she said. “I’m never going to wear it. I’m going to die an old maid and it’s all Daniel’s fault. He stole the best years of my life.”
He didn’t so much steal them as take what she had willingly offered. Still, no need to point that out, right? She felt bad enough already.
“As long as you’re in a man-hating mood, wanna do me a favor?”
“Sure.” She pushed herself up to a sitting position. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to derail Nick’s date tonight. Make sure things go bad.”
She nodded. “I’d be happy to help. Nobody should fall in love. It’s too painful. Love is just an illusion, anyway. It’s like a rainbow. There for a moment, then suddenly—” She splayed her fingers in the air. “Poof! It’s gone.”
Apparently the sangria had made her philosophical as well as shit faced.
I called Christina. I was in luck. She was available, too.
I changed into jeans and a sweatshirt and led Alicia out to my BMW, depositing her in the backseat, where she promptly lay down again. I drove to Christina’s apartment, texting her from the lot when I arrived. She’d thrown on a lightweight shapeless sweater that somehow still managed to show off her perfect body. If she wasn’t such a great person I’d really love to hate her.
We decided to take Christina’s car, since Nick would be more likely to recognize my BMW than her Volvo. We transferred the drunken blob that was Alicia to the backseat of the Volvo and took our seats up front.
I held out my phone and showed Christina the GPS app.
“That’s handy,” she said. “But I’m glad they didn’t have those things back when I was in high school. My father would have tracked my every move.”
The red dot on the map was in motion, indicating that Nick’s truck had left his mother’s house and was heading north. We hopped onto the freeway and headed after him.
I looked over at Christina, eyeing her left hand on the steering wheel. “You’re not wearing the ring today.”
She glanced back at Alicia, who was sound asleep, her face smushed against the leather seat. No need to worry about upsetting our friend at the moment. “The ring felt, I don’t know,” Christina said, “like a lot of pressure?”
I nodded. At the moment, none of us seemed to be in synch with the men in our lives. But if my mom and dad had managed to bounce back from the Candy Cummings/Randall the chess master incident, there was hope the rest of us would work things out, too, right?
“Take the next exit,” I instructed Christina, my eyes on the GPS map on my phone. “He’s stopped a couple of miles from here, on Greenville.”
She pulled off the freeway and continued down the surface street. As we neared the red dot on the map, I pulled the owner’s manual from the glove box and opened it, holding it up to cover my face. I peeked discreetly over the top.
“There he is.” Christina kept her hand low but gestured to the apartment building to our right.
I glanced that way to see Nick in the parking lot, opening his passenger door for a woman with wavy brown hair. She wore jeans over boots, along with a western-cut woman’s shirt pulled tight across her sizable bust. She was tall, probably five foot nine or so, a good match for Nick’s six-foot-two-inch frame. She looked strong and capable, like a woman who’d know how to gut a fish and field dress a deer.
“Damn,” I muttered. “She looks like Nick’s type.” I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised by that. After all, the two had prescreened each other and it’s not like Nick would’ve chosen someone who was clearly not his type.
Christina narrowed her eyes as she looked at the two of them. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Tara. Ain’t nobody fallin’ for nobody tonight. Not on my watch.”
Did I have great friends or what?
She drove past the apartment complex and pulled into the parking lot of a used-car dealership next door where we wouldn’t be spotted. We shooed away the three salesmen stampeding toward us, waited until the GPS indicated Nick had a five-block lead, then turned to follow him, maintaining a good distance.
Alicia sat up in the backseat, eyed herself in the rearview mirror, and said, “No wonder Daniel doesn’t want to marry me. I look like crap.”
I knew Alicia. There was no sense arguing with her when she was in this kind of mood.
She picked up her purse from the floorboard and retrieved a comb, running it through her hair to smooth it into place. She put on a coat of lipstick and patted her nose with pressed powder.
After a few miles, the GPS indicated Nick had turned into the parking lot of Del Frisco’s.
I shrieked. “He’s taking her to a pricey steak house on their first date?” Their porterhouse cost over fifty bucks. “He must be trying to impress her.” Damn! All he’d bought me today was a cup of coffee.
We made the block, stopping at an ATM so I could withdraw a couple of hundred dollars to cover Alicia and Christina’s dinner. There went my manicure budget for the next two months. But the least I could do was pay for their meals since they’d be spying for me.
We returned to the restaurant. Christina parked around the side, where I’d be out of sight of Nick’s truck. I handed Christina the stack of twenties and she and Alicia headed inside, Alicia wobbling slightly on her heels.
I sat in the car with the windows rolled down a few inches, waiting. After a few minutes, I received a brief text from Christina.
2 tables over.
Good. They’d been seated close to Nick and his date.
She texted me again. Ordered a bottle of cabernet.
I wasn’t sure if Christina was referring to herself and Alicia or to Nick and his date. Alicia definitely didn’t need any more to drink.
My phone sat silent and still for an agonizing hour, but it might look suspicious if Christina was texting me a play-by-play. What was happening inside? Was Nick meeting the woman of his dreams? Laughing and bonding over red wine and red meat? Or were my friends successfully interfering with his date?
Finally, I received another text from Christina. Mission accomplished.
I pulled up the map on my phone. According to the GPS app, Nick and his date had left the parking lot and were on their way back to the woman’s apartment. No si
gn of Christina and Alicia yet. I supposed I couldn’t expect them to pass up dessert, though I’d hoped to follow Nick back to the woman’s apartment to make sure he didn’t go inside.
I debated sending Christina and Alicia a text and instructing them to bring their wine bottle in case I needed to lob a Molotov cocktail through the woman’s window. Of course I didn’t actually know how to make a Molotov cocktail, but I Googled it while I waited. Hmm. It sounded fairly simple. All you needed was a bottle, some flammable liquid, and a small swatch of fabric. I could siphon gas from Christina’s tank and tuck my panties into the top of the bottle. I’m nothing if not resourceful. Besides, the pair of underwear I was wearing had definitely seen better days. It was an old pair from a days-of-the-week set my mother had bought me for college years ago. Despite the fact that it was currently Wednesday, my panties read: “FRIDAY.” Yep, I definitely needed to get on that laundry.
Ten minutes later, Christina and Alicia returned to the car, doggie bags in hand.
“So?” I asked as they climbed into the Volvo. “What happened?”
Christina grinned. “Alicia pulled a chair up to their table and turned on the waterworks. She told Nick that she and Daniel had split up because Daniel wouldn’t make a commitment. She asked Nick for advice.”
“As if I’d take advice from a man,” Alicia said, waving a hand dismissively. “Those idiots don’t know what they want. Other than sex, of course.”
“Of course,” Christina said.
“But women want sex, too, don’t we?” I knew I did. I’d been without it for several days now and was feeling the strain. I guess I hadn’t realized how much I relied on the act to relieve the tension accumulated on my job. “I mean, we don’t have to pretend that it’s just for men anymore, right?” The sexual revolution of the 1970s had moved us beyond that.
“Please,” Alicia said. “Don’t even mention sex. As busy as Daniel’s been, I’m lucky to get a little something-something once a month.”
