by Jo Leigh
The plain white walls.
He’d never seen them turn an eerie shade of white before. What the hell did that mean?
9
STILL DRINKING THE coffee he’d bought a block away, Logan entered the exhibition hall. The place was already crowded, but then it was already on the late side.
This morning he’d discovered another excellent feature the apartment offered. Sensors had picked up that he’d awoken and the coffee he’d forgotten to program the previous night had been ready by the time he shuffled to the kitchen. He’d hoped the scent would have lured Kensey out of her room. Hell, for all he knew, she’d left before he’d gotten up. The door to her room had remained closed.
He’d taken the taxi he’d planned on sharing with her, his mood sullen, the temptation high to give in to his hurt feelings.
But what possible good could it do? He’d come to this conference feeling excited. There was so much riding on the outcome of the next couple of days: his presentation, his meeting with Holstrom. The tightness in his gut was familiar, built over years of combat conditions. It was his engine, that tightness. It made him quicker, smarter, more careful.
So what the hell was he doing, mooning over someone he barely knew? Yes, the sex last night had been incredible—possibly the best he’d ever had—and if it turned out to be just a one-night stand, he’d visit that memory often. Not his disappointment.
Besides, his mind needed to be on work. Taking down names, getting business cards. There was such a wealth of opportunity in this loud, overcrowded convention hall.
He also needed to check out the room where he’d be speaking tomorrow to get a feel for it. It just so happened someone he respected was giving a presentation on “Future Crimes in a Connected World” at 4:00 p.m. in the same room, so he figured he’d wait until then.
But most of his day would be spent checking out booths and collecting brochures. He’d stopped by Holstrom’s booth yesterday, to take a quick look at what he was showcasing. There had been a lot of impressive stuff. And since Logan hadn’t slept much last night, he’d done some poking around online. Today he had a few questions for the reps.
He knew that his future didn’t depend on the Holstrom contract, even if it felt like it did. Logan had faced so much during his career. This was just another challenge. And so, evidently, was Kensey. Goddamn it, he had to find out her last name.
For the umpteenth time he wondered what had made her disappear without a word. Maybe she’d gone to check her messages and had a work problem to deal with. Or she’d fallen asleep.
Nah, he hadn’t been on the phone that long.
It still bothered him, that comment about black ops. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked about that by civilians. He’d never given it much thought. But with Kensey...
Something was going on with her, and his gut told him the black ops remark wasn’t simply a misunderstanding. She’d set off his radar in more ways than one. But there was nothing he could do about it. Not here, not now.
The last two sips of his coffee had gone cold. He needed more caffeine, pronto.
Turning right, he made mental notes as to which booths he’d come back to visit. When he heard his name being called from a booth up ahead, he grinned. Only one person he knew could yell like a quarterback and look like a shy, sweet thing.
His pace quickened and there she was, up ahead, right before a log jam of conference goers. Sam O’Connel, with her unmistakable long wavy hair the color of a copper penny. She’d named her business SOC Electronics, a riff on her name. But SOC was also an acronym for Special Operations Command in the military, as well as a computing term. A device called a System-on-Chip integrated all the components of a computer into a single chip.
They’d all called her Soc in college. They were right to. He’d never known anyone to have tackled so many areas of computing or electronics and been so successful.
Hell, designing the smart apartment was what she did for fun.
She stood outside her large, crowded booth, her smile as big as ever, but man, she’d changed. Her image on the apartment’s wall monitor hadn’t done her justice.
The closer he got, the better she looked. Who would’ve guessed she’d blossom in her thirties? No, Sam was younger than him and the rest of the gang. Twenty-nine, maybe? The whiz kid had been a college freshman at fourteen.
“Logan. You look good.”
“Me?” He wrapped her in a big hug. “You went and got gorgeous. When did that happen?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Probably when you started needing glasses.”
He held her at arm’s length. “Sorry. Twenty-twenty vision all the way. You are seriously beautiful.”
She blushed, turning so pink her cheeks almost matched her hair.
“Makeup and a sexy dress? Is this the new you? Or are you just trying to impress me?”
“Yeah, right.” Sam grinned. “I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece. How about my furniture? You didn’t break anything last night, did you?”
“Smart ass.” Logan had forgotten about his SOS call. “Yeah, we don’t need to ever bring that up again.”
“Fine. But no more cracks about the dress and makeup,” she said as she led him to the booth’s entrance. “I was interviewed earlier for Security Management mag. Why they didn’t want to photograph me in my work uniform, I’ll never know.”
“Your work uniform consists of tights and nerdy T-shirts. Unless things have truly changed in your world.”
“Nope. You ought to try it out. With your legs? You’d look hot.”
Once he was inside her booth, he understood why there were so many people waiting to talk with her. She was Steve Jobs mixed with Nikola Tesla. SOC Electronics dealt in everything from biometrics to nonlethal weapons. Sam also worked on the cutting edge of prosthetic animatronics, and she’d made him a burglar-proof lock for his ten-speed back in school that he used to this day.
Luckily for Logan, the four people manning the booth were doing all the meeting and greeting. He didn’t know the three women but he recognized the guy from their MIT days...
“You remember Clark Draper?” Sam said.
“Sure do.” Logan shook his hand. Now he looked like a computer geek. It was clear he didn’t wear ties very often, or get any sun. He’d signed on with Sam during junior year. He’d taken her messages, made her appointments and herded her to class, while she collected multiple degrees and invented things.
“It’s good to see you, Clark,” he said. “You still have that model plane collection?”
“Yep.”
“Excellent.”
From what Logan remembered of Clark, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. At least in this kind of setting. Get him alone and he could be pretty interesting. Logan turned his attention back to Sam.
She led him behind a big table display of computers, all of them showing off her latest gadgets in 3D. Set in the back away from the crowd were two director’s chairs, and they sat close to each other so they wouldn’t have to yell over the din.
“So, how are things at the apartment?”
“Un-effing-believable. It’s like moving in with the Jetsons, only much better. Sam, I’m not kidding. People would pay up the wazoo to have that bathroom alone. And the kitchen? I’ve proposed to the coffee maker. Still waiting for an answer.”
Sam laughed. “Did you see the mac and cheese and the Cap’n Crunch?”
“What do you think I had for dinner last night?”
“Oh, God, really? And Kensey?”
“Frosted Flakes.”
“Huh. Now, that surprises me.”
Logan was tempted. It was the perfect opening. Sam obviously knew a little more than she’d let on about Kensey.
“So, about the walls changing colors,
” Sam said. “You think it’s too much?”
“Jesus, girl. You knocked it out of the park. I mean, come on. That’s going to be standard for every house in the world before you can blink. You’re going to make a fortune.”
She grinned, flushed and happy, then looked at her feet. “I’m still not sure I’m going to make it public. I don’t like the idea of strangers staying there.”
“Well, if it bothers you, I’ll try and come to Boston as frequently as possible so I can stay there. Although, you really will miss out on a fortune.”
She shrugged, then met his gaze again. “I’ve got money. My own now.”
Logan wasn’t sure what she meant. He thought her parents had kept her in popcorn and Diet Mountain Dew until she’d set up shop.
“I never told you about my seed money, did I?”
He shook his head.
“Neil Patterson.”
“Okay.” Logan knew the name, and wondered if Patterson was the man Kensey had worked for, as well, if that was the connection between them.
“He saw my thesis project.”
“The face recognition program?”
“Yeah. He said he thought I showed some talent and we worked it out. Neil was my only revenue source for a few years. He was very patient and even helped me learn the business side of things. Helped Clark, too. Now we’re all making a bundle.”
“That’s great. Really great.” A piece of the puzzle almost fit but something was off. Kensey had tensed when she’d mentioned her former employer, so Logan had assumed their split had been less than amicable. “Did Kensey used to work for him? Is that why she’s staying at the apartment?”
Sam’s eyes closed. “Please don’t ask me about any of that. He’s never asked me for anything. It’s been straight up business this whole time, nothing personal. So when he asked for this, I said yes. He could have asked me to let her live there for the rest of her life, and I’d have said yes. She’s nice, though. I mean, she’s been nice on the phone. Did she do something horrible? Please say no.”
“No. Not horrible. Just odd.”
“The black ops thing? Because I don’t think she meant anything by it, Logan. Honestly. I would tell you if she did.”
He shook his head.
Sam put her hand up. “I knew it. It’s got to do with that horny business. I hope someone else can help you with that, ’cause it’s not going to be me.”
Logan couldn’t help laughing.
“Shut up.” Blushing, she smacked his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Like what?” Logan braced himself for the next assault. The rest of the old college gang would be so proud. Their little sister was growing up. Five years ago the conversation would’ve gone over Sam’s head. “Okay,” he said when she glared at him. He’d bet she could program the apartment for some mean payback. “Sorry.”
Ah, she wasn’t glaring anymore. Sam had returned to geek mode.
“You know, I think it might be possible to synthesize an aerosol that can make people horny,” she said absently, and then blinked. “Look, Logan, one thing I know for sure. I trust Neil down to my bones.”
“Fair enough.” He found it a little disconcerting that Sam put Neil Patterson first, but it made sense. Logan and Sam were old friends, but they led such disparate lives. The great part was, whenever they did see each other they were always able to pick up right where they’d left off.
“So tell me what else is new? Didn’t you mention something really big?”
“Oh, it’s major, all right,” she said. And then she almost smiled.
“This is gonna be good. I know that look.”
She held up her arm. He’d wondered about the bracelets. She wasn’t a jewelry kind of person. But clearly she’d changed. There were four silver bangles just above her wrists. They were very slim and had interesting markings.
He leaned in for a better look. “Are those hieroglyphs?”
“No, but you’re not far off.” She moved her chair closer. “One of these, when slipped from your wrist, turns automatically into a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree camera. And all the data is sent directly to a master hub, where it’s encrypted with some wicked new software I’ll tell you about later.”
She stopped, caught her breath and then she was going again. “But it doesn’t have a limit on how much data it can gather, because it just flows through to Mama Bear. And there can be a chain of data collectors, an infinite number, because of the cloud system I’m using. It’s so detailed that the operator, Mama Bear, would be able to re-create every inch of space in a given room. It self-generates forward motion, which is done by nano chips that I can’t tell you about because that money’s already spoken for. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. Just, it’ll never run out of steam. Think a Roomba that picks up pictures instead of dirt and hairs.”
“Holy shit.”
She nodded. “The hieroglyphs tell her what direction to go in. What kind of landscape she’ll have to maneuver. She can only move if there are no people present. No strangers, actually. If she’s working for you, you’ll have a marker that lets her know you’re cool with her doing her thing. Although you’d better not do anything gross, like some people I could mention.” She glared at Clark, who ignored her completely.
Jesus. It slowly registered for Logan. His mind was scrambling in several directions. Yeah, he’d call this breakthrough pretty major.
“I’m working on audio, but that still needs some tweaking, so we’re not sharing that yet. In fact, you, Neil, Clark and I are the only people in the whole world who know about her so far. She’ll be getting her big debut on the last day of the conference.”
Before Sam had finished talking, Logan had thought of ten viable uses for this device. The possibilities were endless. It could save a lot of lives.
“Hey,” Clark said, from behind Logan.
Sam checked her watch and stood up. “I’m sorry, Soldier Boy. I have to go. I have another interview,” she said. “But I’ll see you later, and we’ll catch up on you, okay?”
He stood and gave her a brief hug. “Later.”
She ran off, and Logan spent some time looking at her newest crop of goodies, mingling with the swirling crowd built entirely of Sam fans. Goddamn, he wished she’d go public. Although she didn’t need to. Good for her. She worked as hard as anyone he’d ever—
Kensey.
He spotted her down the aisle, carrying a briefcase. Her hair was pulled back, and she looked like those models who showed up in magazine ads, pretending to be typical working women. Her dress was green, sleeveless and showed off a lot of leg. Every guy in sight stopped what they were doing and watched her. She just kept walking, her confidence both a dare and a warning.
By the time he could see her dress was suede, he’d forgiven her everything.
Then she stumbled a tiny bit.
Because she’d seen him.
Damn it to hell, she turned around and started walking away, and that really pissed him off.
Bullshit.
He made his way through the bustle, completely unwilling on every level to let her get away with this. No way, no how, were they gonna dance her dance.
“Kensey,” he called, and her stride slowed.
She was debating letting him chase her down. What the hell? He’d been dismissed more kindly by Afghan militants.
Then she stopped.
It didn’t help his mood, knowing she hadn’t wanted to.
* * *
WHY? KENSEY CLENCHED her jaw so hard she might have broken a tooth. Why had she come down this aisle when she knew it was possible Logan might be hanging out at Sam’s booth? Why couldn’t she have seen him first?
She hated this. Hated that what she really wanted to do was take him straight home to bed, and not leave until
this whole week was over. Sure, she wouldn’t be helping her father, but he’d never done much to help her, either.
Just thinking that made her stomach twist into a knot.
This wasn’t a problem her father had created. She’d heard the name Holstrom last night, and that was it—she’d freaked. She had no way of knowing what Logan’s connection with the man was or what he knew about him. It could very well be nothing. It was too big a risk to take. To like him so very much.
But who was she so attracted to? The sweet, funny, amazing lover? Or the dangerous man who’d been the kind of soldier who wasn’t allowed to talk about the things he’d done.
“Hello, Kensey,” he said.
She gave him a brief smile. “I was just coming to see Sam, actually. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I could tell.”
Kensey gave him nothing. No reaction. Inside, though, a maelstrom was raging. Logan had no business looking so good. Feeling so betrayed. She should apologize. Make up an excuse. Ask him what he was doing with Holstrom.
Sam vouched for the man in front of her. Neil vouched for Sam. Which didn’t mean Logan wasn’t in Holstrom’s pocket. It didn’t seem likely, but then Logan was a chameleon. She understood that. So was she.
Her father’s daughter.
It would be her own fault if she let this man get under her skin. There was no one else she could blame. “Well, actually, I have to go. There’s a presentation...”
“Right.” He made a point of looking at his watch. She knew it was two-thirty and all the presentations started on the hour. “Well,” he said, shrugging. “See you around.”
“Wait.” The word was out before she could stop it. She didn’t know what to say but she couldn’t leave it like this.
He slowly turned back to her. “Don’t worry. I get the message. For what it’s worth, it’s a shitty way to tell me to get lost.”
“Last night, I was just trying to give you some privacy. And then I heard something about work and...”
Logan stared at her as if he couldn’t believe how lame the excuse was, and she didn’t blame him. But spending any more time with him wasn’t a good idea. “I have something tonight and I have no idea what time I’ll be home. Back,” she corrected. “But if you’re free and still up, we could have a nightcap.”
