Crash - Part Three

by Dawson, Miranda

  “I certainly hope it is,” Marissa said, remaining completely calm. This was probably a small amount of money for her and her investor, but for us, it was our lives. “But do some checks anyway.”

  “Do you think she has a point?” I asked after the call ended. “If PharmaTech really wanted to hack in, then I’m sure they could.”

  “Probably,” John said, but he didn’t look convinced. “But we aren’t soft targets. We don’t use any of the traditional email platforms, so that makes hacking our email tougher. And then there is the special authentication stuff we use. I’ll look into it—see if we have left any backdoors open—but I’m not convinced that is the problem.”

  “Thanks. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No, I’ll do it. I set up the system, so it’ll be easiest if I look at it. Sorry to bring you down after things had just got sorted with Carter.”

  “I’m not going to let this bring me down,” I said defiantly. “This is just a hiccup. We’ll recover.”

  “Wow, when did you become so positive?” John asked. “I like this new Emily. When are you seeing him next? I’ll make sure to stay out of the way.”

  “He’s taking me shopping. We’re buying spare clothes to leave at each other’s houses. Should I be scared of that?”

  “I would be,” John said. “But then, I’m scared of commitment. You probably thrive on it. Make sure you buy some sexy undies, though—no Bridget Jones knickers.”

  I hadn’t even thought about that. I’d never bought underwear with a man before. I wasn’t scared before, but now I was a touch nervous. Nervous, and excited.

  Chapter Twelve

  "Are you okay?" Carter asked as we walked along a popular shopping mall in downtown San Francisco. "You seem a little nervous."

  "This is going to sound a little stupid,” I said, "but I usually go shopping for clothes and underwear by myself. John has helped me out a few times, but I've never gone shopping with a boyfriend before."

  "And here I was thinking women were always in their element when they were shopping for clothes."

  "Most women probably are, but I am definitely not. I get funny looks when trying on clothes because of my leg; the shop assistants seem to think I need all my clothes specially made, or something."

  Carter tried to take me to some of his favorite fashion stores, but I insisted on going to my good old favorites. I knew if we went to the expensive stores he would insist on buying me something fancy, and knowing me. I would go and spill tomato sauce over it the next day.

  "Can we buy the fun things now?" Carter asked. "We've got all the comfy tops and sweatpants you will ever need, so let's go get you some new underwear."

  "Do we have to?" I asked. "I think I would be more comfortable buying that myself." The thought of browsing through bras and panties with Carter was strangely awkward. He had seen me naked plenty of times and had done things to me that would make even John blush, but doing such a normal thing in public made me feel weird.

  "Oh, I definitely want to be there for this bit. It's my reward for putting up with all the boring stuff that we just bought. Anyway, I have a few other purchases I would like to make. Come on, let's go."

  Carter took me by the hand and led me down some streets I didn't recognize. At first I thought he was going to take me to another expensive store, but the area we found ourselves in certainly wouldn't have any of the top fashion labels for sale.

  "You're taking me to a sex shop, aren't you?"

  "What gave it away? All the neon lighting? Or was it the mannequin wearing leather in the window? Come on, it's not that bad. I promise."

  I had to admit that despite its outward appearance, once inside the store, I could have been in any store in the mall. Well, if the mall sold dildos and whips. I had no idea where to look, so I just went straight for the underwear, although even that freaked me out a little.

  "Do you really want me to buy crotchless panties?" I asked him.

  "Actually no, you can buy the normal ones. Tell you what, I will go pick out some nice knickers for you while you go and explore that corner over there."

  Carter pointed to the corner of the store I had been avoiding—the one with the not-so-subtle vibrators. I wanted to argue with Carter and have him go look at the dildos, but it occurred to me that if we were going to buy one, I would rather have some say in the matter, otherwise we may end up with something far too large and misshapen for me to enjoy. I took a deep breath, lowered my gaze—although I was fairly sure I wouldn't see anyone I knew in here—and walked over to the corner of the room.

  Sex toys were one of those things that I knew existed, and I knew lots of women owned them, but I just couldn't bring myself to buy one. The shop had a huge variety, and the vibrators came in all shapes and sizes. Some were small enough to fit in a handbag, while others were too big to fit anywhere—at least, in my opinion. A sleek, silver one looked like something out of a science fiction movie, and I didn't want to imagine being probed by aliens when getting intimate with Carter.

  The only one I could bring myself to pick up and hold was a six- or seven-inch piece of pink plastic with a gentle ribbing. As I was holding it, my fingers slipped and pressed a button on the base, causing the toy to twist in a circular motion. I nearly dropped the thing in shock and fumbled at the button to get it to stop. I heard a girl and a guy snicker behind me, but didn't turn around to look.

  "Maybe she's shopping for a new leg," the guy whispered to his girlfriend who laughed in response.

  I froze. I thought I'd heard all the jokes about my leg before, but apparently I was wrong. This was definitely a new one on me. Thank God Carter hadn’t heard him; I still has vivid memories of his reaction to the incident at the nightclub. I loved him, but there was no denying that he had a temper when it came to me.

  I didn’t want to turn around until the guy and his girlfriend had disappeared, so I waited a few moments, grabbed a box with the pink dildo in it, and walked over to Carter. He had collected a basket full of bras, panties, and some leather items that were hidden underneath.

  "Found one you like?" he asked. "I picked up a few things you'll like, but I'm going to keep them as a surprise for later."

  I gave a weak smile and nodded as we went to pay for our goodies. As Carter handed over his credit card, I heard a girl screaming at a guy before storming out of the store and slamming the door behind her. I turned around to see the guy who had made the joke about me earlier now standing in the middle of store, looking thoroughly confused.

  "What was that about?” I asked, looking back at Carter. He was staring at the guy and grinning with a knowing look on his face. "Did you have something to do with that?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about, dear."

  "You heard, didn't you? You heard what he said. What did you do?"

  "The moron had his Bluetooth open on his phone, so I sent him a few messages. Looks like his girlfriend found them, and now she probably thinks he is having an affair."

  I couldn't help but smile. “I think he deserved it. Does that make me a bad person?"

  "Not at all. You don't have to take it, you know. You hear someone say something like that, you could always confront them."

  "I don't have time to deal with the idiots in the world," I said. "You know what, that sort of thing just doesn't bother me as much as it used to. Come on, let's go take our tawdry purchases back to your place. I want to try on what you bought me."

  Chapter Thirteen

  No sooner had I slipped into the underwear than I had to slip back out of it again, but not for the reasons I liked. Instead of spending the afternoon being ravished by Carter, I had to head home alone while he went back to work. I began to grumble about being abandoned until her reminded me that it was in fact a Thursday and not everyone could live the startup lifestyle of working whenever they pleased. Fair enough, I supposed.

  The new panties and the toys stayed at Carter’s to be fully explored at a later date while I bro
ught some of his stuff back with me. Every item, including the perfectly-sculpted boxers, had a designer label inside them. He had socks that cost more than my skirts. Still, he looked damn fine even when dressed, so I couldn’t complain too much.

  By the time I arrived home my legs and feet were exhausted. For once I hoped that John was already at my place. I could have used a bit of looking after. I dropped the bags inside the door and collapsed onto the sofa before realizing that my laptop was all the way over on the table. I should have taken a nap or just chilled out, but my laptop was chained to me when I was at home and I felt naked without it. Just as I was about to get up, I heard a rustling from the kitchen. Thank God for that.

  “Bring me my laptop, will you, John?” I called out. “And put the kettle on. I need a cup of tea.”

  “I could have been a burglar,” John said, passing me my laptop. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Most burglars don’t stop in the middle of a job to eat chips.”

  “Fair enough. You look exhausted. No offense.”

  “I was with Carter all day,” I replied.

  “Ah, so you’re all shagged out, then. Poor thing; my heart bleeds for you.”

  “We were just shopping,” I said with a flick of the hand toward the bags of clothes by the door. “Unfortunately, that was all.” I neglected to mention some of the more intimate purchases we made that day; John didn’t need to know everything, and he was already of the opinion that Carter was some closet sex freak. “What have you been doing all day?”

  “Looking for holes in our security. Didn’t find a single one, but I have a plan, and it’s quite a good one, if I do say so myself.”

  “Do tell.”

  “We come up with another idea for the business, but not a real one. Something that sounds vaguely real, but is beyond our capabilities to actually do. Or maybe just something we don’t care about because it’s too small a market. The details don’t matter. It just needs to be a fake plan.”

  “You’re going to set some bait,” I said, sitting up and suddenly feeling a lot more invigorated.

  “Yep, that’s the plan. Leave an idea out there and see if anyone reacts to it. Got any plans that are borderline believable?”

  “We were going to design the hardware ourselves at one point, but we didn’t because it would have been horrendously expensive.”

  “And there were already patents on the tech,” John pointed out. “That’s perfect, actually. Let’s have a fake email exchange where talk about the hardware and pretend to be all excited. I will copy the plans based on an existing patent and leave them on our system. If PharmaTech gets hold of that information, it may make them waste money on developing a product that already exists.”

  “Not to mention that they might go and file a patent for a product that is already patented. That would get them a slap on the wrists, at least. Let’s do it.”

  John and I sat opposite each other and sent a few carefully constructed emails where we discussed plans to use money raised from a private round of investment to get into hardware. A small business like ours wouldn’t usually get into product development, but PharmaTech seemed to be reacting to whatever we put out there without giving it a second thought. I was willing to bet they would act first and think later.

  ---

  When your business was under threat from a hacker and you were laying traps for them like something from a spy novel, regular work had a tendency to look rather dull and uninspiring in comparison. The next few days floated by in haze of normal emails from our customers and the odd query from the accountant. The business was still ticking along nicely even when operating on autopilot, but I had to admit to being rather bored.

  My boredom wasn't helped by the lack of contact with Carter. We had sent each other lots of text messages, plenty of which I would be embarrassed to show my mother, and we had talked over the phone, but I needed to see him in person. In the flesh. I needed him. I refused to let myself become the needy girlfriend, especially since I knew he had a stressful job. If I had been busier it wouldn't have been so difficult, but I had far too much time to myself that moment.

  Finally, I got a message from Carter inviting me to dinner. The message was a little cryptic about where we would be going, but apparently I should dress warm. He didn't mention anything about a car to pick me up, so I decided to walk over to his apartment. It wasn't that far away, but San Francisco had lots of hills to climb on the way. I ended up making it there in good time. In fact, I was early and decided to wait outside for him. The weather was pleasant and I didn't see the need for the jacket Carter had insisted I bring.

  Even though I was standing outside Carter's building I still heard the ping of the lift doors opening. I recognized the person who walked out, and it wasn't Carter. It was that woman again—the woman I had seen at the conference and who was a business partner of Carter's. This had happened before; I had seen her leaving his building and jumped to the wrong conclusion. That was before Carter and I had really established our relationship, and I now had the perfect chance to show him how much I had grown from the jealous girl he met a few weeks ago.

  I held the door open for this woman as she left the building. "Hi, you're a business partner of Carter's, right? I'm a friend of his." I probably could have introduced myself as his girlfriend, but that felt a little unprofessional.

  "Hi," the woman said, keeping her gaze on the floor. She seemed determined not to talk to me and just muttered something under her breath as she walked away.

  "Well, that was weird," I said to myself. Perhaps she was some high-flying investment banker who looked down on the mere mortals like me. She had seemed a little stuck-up when I saw her at the conference. Frankly, as long as she was just a business colleague, I couldn't have cared less. I only wanted Carter, not his work friends.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "My God, I'm freezing." I shivered as the breeze from the bay made light work of the flimsy jacket I had brought with me.

  "I did tell you to dress warm," Carter said.

  "Yes, but you were a little light on the details. Had you told me we were going on a cruise of the San Francisco Bay, I might have known to bring a coat. The only part of me that's not cold right now is my fake leg."

  "Well, this is a little too public a place for me to warm your leg or any other intimate parts of you, but my jacket should stop you shivering a bit."

  Carter slipped off his dark gray suit jacket and placed it lightly on my shoulders. I felt like such a stereotype, but as the goosebumps faded and I stopped shaking, my body was grateful. Now that I was warm I was able to enjoy the evening as the boat headed toward the Golden Gate Bridge. Carter had booked a romantic meal for two aboard a floating restaurant with an onboard chef who owned two Michelin-star restaurants.

  The view in front of me wasn't all that bad, either. At some point amongst the fighting and mistrust, I had somehow forgotten just how dreamy Carter was. He wore a light blue shirt with a pink tie that matched two small jewels on each of his cufflinks. A hefty silver watch protruded from under the cuff of his shirt, and I smiled to myself, thinking that he would not be quick to embrace the newfound obsession with wearable fitness trackers.

  "Can you hear that noise?" Carter asked.

  "Yes, I can hear something. What is it?"

  "Baseball fans. The Giants are playing tonight. If you keep an eye out and get lucky, you may catch a home run."

  I laughed. "You really don't know a lot about American sports, do you? We won't be catching a baseball all the way out here. Not unless the players are on some fancy new steroids, which come to think of it, is not all that far-fetched, I suppose."

  "Okay, I admit it: I'm not much of a baseball fan. I do know a bit about football—your kind of football—so don't go making too many assumptions about us Brits."

  "I only know about baseball because my brother used to watch it. Sometimes it was on TV five or six nights a week. I still watch it, occasionally. It helps me feel cl
ose to him, you know?"

  "Tell me about him. About William. If that's okay?"

  "It's fine. I like talking about him, actually. It's tough to talk about him with my parents, but it's different with you. William was not at all like me, but I think you would have liked him. I suppose everyone says that about people who died, but I really believe it. He was so much more outgoing than me. I like to think he would have become an actor or a presenter, but it's equally likely he would have ended up working as a barista, or something. But you know what? He would've been happy in whatever he did. He was just that kind of guy."

  Carter nodded. "I know people like that. I wish I could be like them."

  "Oh, come on!" I exclaimed. "You're hardly lacking in confidence, are you?"

  Carter laughed. "I'm not sure whether I should take that as a compliment or not. But since I'm confident guy, I will assume it was a compliment."

  "I thought you would. You investment bankers are all a bit too cocky for my liking."

  "Hey, don't lump us all together. We aren't all that bad, although I admit some of my colleagues do fit the ‘one-percenter’ stereotype rather well. And don't forget I wasn't always an investment banker. I only got this job because of Bella's sister."

  In all the confusion about Carter's past, I'd completely forgotten that he used to be quite poor—or at least, his parents were. The career as an investment banker was new; Carter had another life before that.

  "What did you do before?"

  "I'm tempted to make you guess, but this cruise only lasts another two hours and I think it would take all night."

  "It must have had something to do with numbers," I said. "You can't just have walked into a job as an investment banker without being able to read a spreadsheet. And I think it's safe to assume you went to college before the crash. I'm going to guess that you did a degree in accounting or something similar and maybe worked in that field for a bit."

  "I can see from the big grin on your face that you think you have me sussed out."