The Wrong Kind of Compatible

by Kadie Scott

  She’d already heard all about how she should’ve worn a dress instead of the black pantsuit she’d opted for. Her nails were not manicured. When was the last time she’d cut her hair? She’d never get married if she continued to…blah, blah, blah.

  She loved her mother dearly, truly she did. And her mother loved her. They simply saw the world from polar opposite viewpoints. She hoped this thing today would be quick given that four of the five siblings had showed. Only Chris, who hadn’t been able to fly up from Houston, was missing. However, add her sisters-in-law and Charlie’s two scamp sons to their attendance list, and their family took up an entire row.

  They won’t miss me if I sneak out early.

  “What did you say?” her mother asked.

  Darn the lack of filter between her brain and mouth. “Nothing.”

  “Stop fidgeting, Cassandra.”

  Cassie clamped her lips shut around a sarcastic retort and managed to sit up straight and fold her hands neatly in her lap. If her toes continued to squirm inside her shoes, her mother would be none the wiser.

  Her phone buzzed, vibrating inside the one slightly fashionable purse she owned, bought specifically for being around her mom. Cassie glanced at the smartwatch on her wrist that displayed an incoming text from a number she didn’t recognize.

  Her day perked up as soon as she read the first line.

  This is Drew. Got a sec?

  Cassie’s lips hitched. Most people would lead in with a hello or an apology for interrupting her weekend. The man was all sorts of awkward. A different awkward from hers, and, for some ridiculous reason, she got a kick out of it when she should be running the other direction.

  She pulled her phone out of her purse to respond. Charlie’s ceremony starts in twenty minutes.

  She slid a glance sideways as she could practically feel her mother’s pointed stare boring into the side of her head. Sure enough, she was receiving “the look”—the one that communicated expectations, disappointment, and irritation all at the same time. Her mother must’ve perfected it as a child, because Cassie had been on the receiving end of that look since emerging from the womb. Maybe even sooner. Her mother still tsked over Cassie’s first word of “dada” instead of the more advanced words her brothers had selected such as “balloon” and “doggy.”

  My mother will give you five, she tacked on to Drew.

  I can try you later.

  As seemed to happen with everything Drew said, Cassie’s mind took that innocent comment a whole different direction. After an entire week with the two of them stuffed into her cube—surrounded by his utterly male scent, the more than occasional brush of a touch, that intense gaze, and the stimulation of matching wits with an equal—she wouldn’t mind trying a few things with Drew. Only, she still didn’t trust him when it came to her job, so trying Drew at all was off the table.

  Cassie resisted the urge to fan herself at the mental image of Drew on the table. Or her on the table while he…

  Hopping toadstools, when had her mind gotten so…dirty?

  She refocused her thoughts and texted him back. No. I’m ready now.

  As soon as she hit send and reread her own words, she wanted to chuck her phone across the room.

  The funny thing about Drew was he’d probably pick up on her alternate meanings. He never seemed to realize he started it, though.

  I can’t wait. Good ceremony?

  Her face turned twenty shades of pink. Oh God. He’d totally caught her slip. At least he hadn’t called her on it directly or ended the text with a winking emoji. Not that he was the type to emoji. He didn’t emote in person. Why would he start in text?

  Sitting with her family on a college campus surrounded by professors while all hot and bothered over nerdy sexual innuendo from her coworker did not fall under the heading of a good idea. More like sheer stupidity. She tried to shake it off and focus on responding to his text.

  Thrilling. So far, I’m sitting in a stuffy room full of stuffy people getting ready to watch a stuffy formality.

  Do you wish you were the one receiving the honor?

  An insightful question she should take offense to, but for some reason didn’t. She had no idea how to answer. Cassie had her own share of successes, but most were ones her mother expected of her children like a higher-level degree, whereas her brothers exceeded expectations. How had Drew picked that up listening to half a conversation on Monday? Perhaps he was more perceptive than he seemed?

  She decided to go with, No comment.

  What accomplishment of yours are you most proud of?

  The question caught her off guard. Did he really want to know? Earning my doctorate four years early. I finished my B.S. early and did a combined masters/doctorate program.

  That’s huge. I bet your brothers didn’t do that.

  No, they did not. Cassie bit back a smile. Why did she get the feeling that he understood exactly why that meant a lot? It was like he saw her.

  A smiley face came back. Huh. So she’d been wrong about the emojis.

  How’s your mother doing? he asked next.

  She glanced over and received a tight smile along with raised eyebrows. Silently fuming that I’m still on the phone with you. I should go.

  Do you do everything your mother says?

  The answer was, pathetically, yes. Text stripped all the inflection out of a conversation, but, she didn’t take his question as accusatory or even challenging. More curious. However, the question—one only Drew would ask—made her want to rebel a tiny bit.

  He texted again before she could respond. Don’t answer. Sorry if I offended you.

  She’d been about to say “no comment” again, but now, contrarily, she had the strangest urge to share this part of her life with him. Over a tiny phone screen, no less.

  No offense taken. Parent/child relationships are complicated.

  Especially when the parent is my mother, she tacked on mentally.

  Life is more peaceful if you give in?

  She scrambled to make sure she hadn’t sent the extra thought. Nope. How’d he guess? Not even her brothers got that. Not really, because they were the golden children. Cassie was…whatever Cassie was.

  Exactly. She’s never satisfied.

  Sounds like someone I know.

  Which means what?

  I get the impression you’re a woman who has never been satisfied.

  Cassie almost dropped her phone. Oh my. There went her brain again, down pathways she was sure he never intended. Given her body’s reaction to the man, even via simple texts, she suspected he could help her out with that “never been satisfied” issue. What would his response be if she replied with something like, I could use help in that department? Are you up for it?

  Her fingers itched to type it in and see what he came back with. Could she start an office flirtation with the undisputed hottie of Data Minds?

  No. She couldn’t. They were colleagues. Besides, she wasn’t a casual sex kind of girl. Trusting him with her body meant trusting him with other more vital parts of her…like her mind and maybe even her heart. She still suspected he was being groomed to take over for her, which meant flirting with him was a bad, bad idea. Horrible.

  And tempting.

  “Are you going to put that thing away?” Her mother’s snippy tone broke through Cassie’s total focus on her phone.

  “We have ten minutes before the ceremony starts, mother, and this is work.” Liar, liar, panties on fire. No, really.

  “Work makes you turn beet red?” Her mother raised an eyebrow, and Cassie’s face heated more. Thankfully, her mother didn’t pursue it further. Instead, she took another well-travelled path. “You can’t have an emergency for work that requires your attention right this moment.”

  I love my mother. I love my mother. “You wouldn’t say that to Caleb or Connor.”

  Susan Howard’s already straight posture stiffened. “Caleb and Connor are doctors. You are not.”

  And there it was—the crux
of Mom’s biggest issue with her. Cassie had decided to focus her mind on computers instead of following her mother’s footsteps and becoming a doctor.

  I have to go. I’m not a doctor, so my work isn’t emergency-worthy on weekends.

  Drew could make of that whatever he wanted. With a strange surge of disappointment at cutting the connection with him, she turned the phone off and tossed it back into her purse.

  …

  Drew sat in his car in the parking lot outside the office gym and frowned down at his phone. What did Cassie mean by that last abrupt comment?

  He’d have to ask her on Monday. Still, he checked off his texting experiment as successful. According to his book, communicating outside of work hours and communicating via casual forms of technology would help to establish a more friendly and intimate connection than communicating only at the office.

  He’d come up with a lead-in question about work, one he hoped she didn’t see right through, and texted her. Luckily, he hadn’t had to use it. In fact, the entire interaction had gone down a completely unexpected path. He’d ignored the carefully scripted texts that he’d written out in advance, with contingencies and everything, and chucked it all out the window with unsettling eagerness when she opened up about her accomplishments.

  He liked how she’d responded to him more than he wanted to admit. Exchanging dialogue with someone who could keep up with him, and called him on…well, everything…was surprisingly stimulating.

  Not to mention the undercurrent of sexual innuendo they couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how accidental half the comments may be. That had been a dumb idea.

  But some insane part of him had wanted her to know. Wanted her to think highly of him.

  The sharp rap of knuckles on his window broke into his thoughts. Drew tensed until he saw Max standing outside, his face a picture of patient frustration. They were meeting up to work out at their usual time. A glance at the clock on his dash told Drew he’d taken longer with what was supposed to be a quick interaction than he’d intended.

  Max glanced pointedly down at his own watch. The guy could be rigid when it came to his schedule. Drew got it, which was probably why they were friends. With a shrug, he shoved his phone in his gym bag and got out of the car.

  “You’re late,” Max started in on him as they walked into the building, badging in at the scanners in the lobby and grabbing a towel from the guy manning the front desk.

  “Guess you’ll have to report me to the FBI.”

  Max ignored Drew’s dry comment as they let themselves into the locker room. “What were you doing anyway?”

  “Texting Cassie Howard.”

  Max paused in the process of neatly unpacking the contents of his bag into a locker. “The woman you’re investigating?”

  Technically, he was investigating the company. She just happened to be the prime suspect. “Yes.”

  “Is that smart?”

  Drew closed his locker and clicked the padlock into place. “I need her cooperation, and I need her distracted. The best way to accomplish that is to become friendly with her.” Textbook undercover work, but Max, a numbers genius as familiar with bullshitting as he was rules, saw right through him. He leaned a shoulder against the wall and cocked an eyebrow.

  “What?” Drew asked.

  “You looked a bit too happy on that phone for business as usual. What were you texting?”

  On a defensive footing was not Drew’s usual place to find himself. “I started with work.”

  “And?”

  Drew didn’t respond.

  “Kerrigan…” Max pushed.

  Drew shrugged. “She was with her family, so we got on to that topic.”

  He grabbed his towel and headed for the door that led outside. They always ran five miles before hitting the weight room.

  Max fell into step beside him. “You talked about her family? That’s pretty personal.”

  “Texted,” Drew corrected.

  “Irrelevant.”

  “When did you take up law? We’re not in court, Counselor.”

  “No. You’re on an op,” he was reminded in curt tones. “Do you really want to blow your first undercover assignment?”

  If he’d wanted an ass chewing, he’d have called his director. The guy excelled at those. “I’m trying to get in good with her to help with the case. That’s all.”

  Max eyed him closely. “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They dropped their towels on a bench and took off at a slow jog around the track.

  “Okay,” Max finally relented. “If anyone is going to do things by the book, it’s you.”

  More than Max knew. Drew pictured the book currently sitting on his nightstand. The one with advice that, so far, had worked quite well. Granted, his version of “asking questions” had come out more like an interrogation session, and the texting had gone way off script. However, Cassie gave every indication of relaxing around him, which was the goal.

  And all the deliberate touches definitely got her talking. This week he planned to put that tool to good use.

  “Have you had any luck wandering around in their systems yet?”

  Drew shook his head. “I don’t wander, and I haven’t found anything I hadn’t already hacked.”

  “Does anyone in the office, other than your new texting buddy, seem suspicious?”

  Drew had already written his observations up, but mentally reviewed his interactions with the Data Minds staff again. “Lou, the partner I met, could be classified as a snake oil salesman type. Other than a gut feel about the guy, I have no proof of wrongdoing. No one else is standing out to me, yet.” Just Cassie, whose algorithms and analysis appeared clean at first glance, but the results directly contradicted or out-performed their competitors, screaming inside information. No way could she have an insider at every company, which meant data theft.

  He’d already done an investigation into the three partners who headed the company—Lou Markinson and two brothers named Jason and Malcom Cox—but, maybe getting in close to them, as well as Cassie, wouldn’t be a bad idea. Drew made a mental note to ask his team to set up some surveillance on the three, particularly Lou.

  “You think you could check out the company finances?” Max was not a field agent. He used his affinity for numbers and patterns to investigate white-collar offenders, cyber criminals, financial institutions, and organized crime from a financial standpoint. Practically put Drew to sleep when Max started talking work. Then again, Max’s eyes glazed over when Drew went off on technical subjects.

  “I can take a pass at the public information and let you know if anything stands out. Anything more needs a court order.”

  “Thanks. I’ll owe you one.”

  “Don’t worry about it. So, what’s your next move?” Max asked.

  “Now I’m looking for anything outside their normal operations, like hacking their competitors’ systems. That has to be how they’re doing this.”

  “I mean with Cassie.”

  Drew stumbled as images of the next moves he’d like to make popped unbidden into his head, his body eager to make those a reality even as his mind vetoed that idea. “I’m still sifting through her projects, and have accessed her private drive—the stuff she’s working on off the company server on her own machine.” Although, he was having trouble with some heavily encrypted files. “Her algorithms and her analysis of the results are remarkable.”

  Seriously. If he wasn’t investigating the woman, he’d love to sit her down and pick her brain. Although, he’d noted one or two spots where he’d do a few things differently. Maybe he’d mention that to her at an appropriate time. He was sure she’d appreciate the tips.

  “And trying to make friends at the same time?”

  “I need her to trust me.”

  “So you said. She’s responding…favorably?” Max asked.

  Drew didn’t glance his way, and didn’t answer.

  “She is! Holy shit.” Max slapped him
on the back, making Drew stumble again. “Who knew you had it in you, Casanova.”

  Drew gritted his teeth. “Don’t sound so surprised. And I’m not trying to seduce the woman, just get friendly.” But a small voice in the back of his head scoffed at that comment. Something about her had gotten under his skin like an itch he couldn’t stop scratching.

  An unexpected and inconvenient truth—he was genuinely interested in Cassie Howard.

  “No offense, but I’ve heard you talk to the women in our office. It’s not pretty.”

  Drew scowled. Warm-up lap completed, he picked up the pace. “Cassie’s different.”

  “She is, is she?”

  He ignored the speculation in Max’s voice. “She gets me.” Hell, she seemed to see right through him.

  “Interesting.”

  Drew considered ignoring the leading comment, but couldn’t. “Why is that interesting?”

  Max shrugged. “A girl who gets you doesn’t come along often.”

  True. Drew’d had his fair share of relationships and even a few casual hookups over the years. However, most women either didn’t catch on to his humor, or if they did, rarely found it funny, too. Cassie did both with alluring ease.

  The book helped, but maybe Max could pass on some advice as well. “What’s your best move?”

  His friend frowned over at him, not following the change in topic. “What do you mean?”

  “With women. You’re always taking some new woman to her apartment for a night. And that’s it.” He glanced pointedly at the brunette jogging just ahead of them who’d been salivating since Max appeared. “What’s the secret?”

  Max stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Why?”

  Couldn’t the guy give him a break? “I’d think that’s pretty obvious.”

  No budge in Max’s expression.