Chapter Twelve

The first interview was a complete bust. Well, no, that wasn’t strictly true because Florence was more than willing to help Chance out in any way she possibly could. But where X-Tech was concerned, the competition, Meg’s work, there was nothing there. Florence was years away from perfecting her work and honestly, from the sounds of it, Meg wasn’t entirely sure there was anything original or interesting there.

She scowled as she made her way down the street—the damn cobbles in this part of town catching on her heels—because she knew full well that she was being unfair. Florence was a smart, interesting woman, who clearly had talent, but Meg had not liked the way she had looked at Chance. Not at all.

The same way you look at him…

Her scowl deepened. There was no getting away from the fact that she probably did have that very same look on her face when Chance was near, but Meg was in no mood to consider that. Instead, she found herself dwelling on the fact that Chance had taken extra time at the counter to pick out cupcakes for her and Florence. Only, Florence’s had been a luscious chocolate concoction whilst Meg’s had been lemon sponge. Lemon sponge. Meg wasn’t even sure why that annoyed her so much, but it did.

She pulled the strap of her satchel up her shoulder as she carried on down the street. There was a bakery right opposite her. There would be chocolate cake in there. Meg’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since this morning—not counting the lemon cupcake and why the hell would she?—and burying her face in a bowl of meringue sounded good right about now.

“Meg, where exactly are we going?”

Meg came to a halt. It was entirely possible that she planned to head to the bakery. “We’re going to get some decent cake and then we’re going to look at your evidence,” she said.

Chance shot her a look. “Okay, but if you’re planning on walking to my office it’ll take us a while.”

There was a queue outside the bakery. Did Meg even want to wait in it? Any other day the answer would be a resounding yes but Chance was here, and the evidence was waiting, and Meg was feeling weirdly scratchy about the whole thing. Maybe it was Kate’s warnings still running around her mind. Maybe it was because Chance had dodged most of her questions. Or maybe it was just because Meg had suddenly realized that Chance probably had a slew of women lining up to help him out. And while it was true that Meg did not mind competition—if anything, it brought out the best in her—for some reason, she didn’t like it where Chance was concerned.

“We need a cab?” she asked after a moment.

Chance shook his head and gestured behind them. “I have my car. It’s in the lot across the way.”

“Fine,” Meg said. “Let’s go.”

“There’s a bakery by my office,” Chance said as Meg strode off in the opposite direction. “We can pick up something from there.”

“Lemon cake?” Meg asked.

Chance shot her another look. He seemed confused. Meg didn’t blame him. She was confused.

“I don’t really eat sweet things,” he said slowly. “I have a deep and strange dislike of chocolate. And I hardly ever eat cakes. Lemon cake is pretty much the only one.”

Meg’s heart thumped. “It’s your favorite?”

“Yeah.”

And thumped again.

“We can get some more,” he added. “Maybe some coffee, too. I have a lot of information to show you. It could take a while. You have enough time to spend the afternoon with me?”

Meg’s nod was followed by a weird little shiver that ran down her spine. She hoped Chance’s office was nice and big. She hoped there would be yards and yards between them. She hoped that the information he was going to show her was so interesting that it would take all her focus.

“This one’s mine.”

Chance came to a halt in the parking lot. Meg looked around them.

“A Prius? A silver Prius?”

“You don’t like the car?” he asked.

Meg shrugged. “It’s not quite what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

Another shrug. “Something…flashier.”

“I don’t go for flashy, Meg,” Chance said.

“Not in your cars at least.”

“I don’t follow?”

How could she possibly say that she was talking about herself? Because Meg was flashy in every way—the clothes, the hair, all of it—and Chance was attracted to her. He gave her lemon cake for God’s sake. But then, maybe she was an outlier? Maybe, usually, Chance went for another type entirely?

“Never mind,” Meg said quickly.

“Hop in.”

It didn’t take Meg long to realize that she should have been more worried about the space in the car than in the office. As they drove out of the lot, Meg couldn’t help but think about how close they were. And just like in the kitchen, she felt the attraction as a physical thing. Her heart rate increased. She was sure of it even before sneaking a peek at her fitness tracker. She curled her hands on her lap. They itched to move across the space and touch Chance. It was then that she realized they hadn’t touched since the night in X-Tech. And yet, with this, with the intensity of it, how long before they were touching?

Be careful…

Kate’s words whispered through her head. Meg tried to heed them. She really did. But it already felt like a losing battle. It had since the very beginning.

The drive took maybe fifteen minutes. They said very little. Meg was fine with that. She didn’t know this part of town well so she concentrated on the scenery, and not least because she was very curious about where and what Chance’s office was going to look like. It was only when they slowed that she realized where they were…and it was nowhere that she expected to be.

“Your office is really close to X-Tech Towers.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that how the X-Tech guy found you?” she asked.

“What X-Tech guy?”

“The one who hired you,” Meg said.

Chance pulled the Prius into one of the allocated parking spaces for the building in front of them. “Confidential.”

Meg thought about Kate’s efforts to crack Chance’s site. She wasn’t optimistic of a breakthrough there. Chance didn’t need to know that, though. “For the moment.”

“Home sweet home,” Chance said as they left the car and walked up to the building. It was a brick and glass affair, very much in the style of X-Tech Towers.

“I’ve heard of this place,” Meg said slowly as they entered the reception area. She caught sight of the building’s name. “This seems like an odd location for a PI business.”

“Where would you prefer I set up shop, Meg?” Chance asked. “Above a strip club? Perhaps I could share space with a bail bondsman?”

“I just…I thought The Hub was for tech professionals,” Meg said. “Kate and I spoke about coming here when it opened.”

“It’s for whoever wants to use it,” Chance said. “They encourage people from all industries.”

He led them through the reception area, where an anxious-looking woman watched them a little too closely, in Meg’s opinion. Down a corridor that was painted as brightly as the management level of X-Tech had been, and then through to a large room that housed a massive desk and several soft, squishy-looking chairs. A huge screen dominated one of the walls.

Meg looked around, taking it all in. “Your office is…”

“Unexpected?” Chance said.

“I was going to say colorful,” Meg replied, pointing at the emerald green wall behind the desk.

Chance shrugged. “Bright colors help me to think.”

“It’s pretty spartan, too,” she added because, to her disappointment, there was nothing of a personal nature in the office. The desk was completely bare. If Meg had been hoping to learn more about Chance from this room, she was clean out of luck.

“I don’t like to have any distractions,” Chance said.

“I can see that.”

He gestured to a chair. “Would you like a drink now? There’s a coffee machine in the creative space. Or we could head to the bakery and then get started?”

Meg’s appetite had abruptly deserted her. She didn’t know why but something felt a little…off about this office. What had she expected? Something more in keeping with her idea of what a PI was? A scruffy office with decor like that of the bar he’d taken her to? And the car. A Prius? As Meg sank into one of the seats, dropping her satchel next to her, she couldn’t help but think that this did not fit.

“I’m good.”

Chance took the seat opposite her. They were both facing the screen. He took his cell out of his pocket. He’d checked it several times during their interview with Florence. Other clients or something to do with this investigation? Meg wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to know.

“How are we going to do this?” she asked.

“I’m pulling up the evidence now,” he said.

“From your Android?”

“All the files are on here.”

Meg’s stomach fluttered and flipped in a way that she was becoming increasingly familiar with. “You want me to scootch my chair over next to you?”

He shook his head. “No, give me a minute to find the right files and I’ll put them on screen.”

Chance’s fingers flew over the Android. Meg watched him with something like fascination. There was something…familiar about him in this setting. She could not put her finger on what it was. But with his Android in hand, the bright colors behind him, Meg felt like she was missing something. What the hell was it?

“There,” Chance said, before she could grasp whatever it was that was out of reach.

The screen lit up. A document flashed up, the words quickly coming into focus. Meg let out a little gasp.

“This is a chronology.”

“Yeah.”

She stood up and walked over to the screen. Chance had sketched out a timeline of “incidents.” There were dozens, many branching off to dozens more. “It goes back months,” she whispered. “Months.”

“Each of those circles on the timeline is a place where X-Tech might have done something they shouldn’t have,” Chance said. “You’re there right at the end.”

He’d placed her initials above the circle. Had he done the same with the others? How many developers had X-Tech stolen from?

“How did you find all this information?” Meg asked.

“This is my job,” Chance said. “But much of this information is unverified.” He sighed. “That’s being generous. Much of it is little more than suspicions.”

Meg traced the path to her initials. “It doesn’t say what the projects are.”

“I have that information,” Chance said. “It wouldn’t be fair to show it to you, though. You wouldn’t want me showing the details of your project to another developer.”

“No…”

“I can give you an overview, though,” Chance added.

He stood up and joined her at the screen. Meg felt him next to her and her attention was torn between him and the screen. But then, he was just so present. Meg was horribly aware of him. The way he moved. The way he felt.

She gave herself an inward shake. Focus!

“It’s a real spread,” he said as he gestured to the screen. “Mathematical puzzles, app development, advances in coding, AI research even. X-Tech has so many varied and divergent projects that it’s difficult to see any real pattern.”

“Different people working on them?” Meg asked.

“Exactly.”

Chance did something on his Android screen. A new document came up. It showed an organizational chart. It was the senior management team. Meg recognized them from her own research.

“These people are the only common denominators,” Chance said.

“So, this is where we’re going to find the answers,” Meg replied. “Just like I thought in the very beginning.” She traced her fingers up through the group of twelve that made up the senior management team of X-Tech to the point right at the top. Jack Richards. “We have to talk to him,” Meg said.

“You tried that,” Chance said.

“We have to try again.”

“I can’t get back in the building a second time,” Chance said.

Meg frowned as she thought about Jimmy. Could she ask him for help again? She didn’t think so. It would be hugely unfair, especially given how worried he had been the last time. And yet…

“If someone is stealing from developers, it has to be one of them,” she said.

“I already looked through their profiles,” Chance said.

“Yeah, me too,” Meg replied. “When I was trying to find someone in the company to take me seriously, to even take a call, I contacted pretty much every one of them.” She shrugged. “No replies.”

“I imagine they pass those emails on to their legal department,” Chance said.

“Or delete them,” Meg said.

Jack Richards…she looked at his place on the chart. His image flashed through her mind. That curly hair…that gray sweater. Something teased the edges of her consciousness. She did not know what it was.

“I missed something,” she eventually said. “We missed something. In their profiles, I mean. We must have. We need to add it to the list of our tasks. Interview the competition geeks, profile the X-Tech management.”

“Anything else?” Chance asked.

Meg turned to him. The feeling of something not being right hit her all over again. Was it because she was thinking about Jack Richards or was it more than that? She flicked her gaze to the bright walls around Chance, to the weirdly neat desk, and then back to the screen. Why did she feel like she was missing something important? What the hell was happening here and why couldn’t she figure it out?

“We need to be honest with each other,” she said.

Chance brushed his thumb over his Smartphone. The screen behind Meg went blank. “Meg…”

“I’m serious, Chance,” she said. “This isn’t going to work if we’re keeping secrets.”

“If I’m keeping secrets from you, Blue, it is only because I have no choice,” he said.

Her stomach clenched. “Then answer me honestly now, Chance,” she said. “Is the identity of your employer the only thing you’re keeping from me?”

Chance lifted a hand and rubbed at his beard. “It depends on how I interpret that question.”

Meg let out a shaky breath. Kate’s warnings shot through her mind. Chance continued to rub at his beard. He was so damn attractive. There was no getting around that, and suddenly there was no doubt in Meg’s mind that his attractiveness was interfering with her ability to think.

She needed time to do that, though. She had to work out what the chronology meant, where Jack Richards fit into it all, and where Chance did, too.

“Figure it out,” she eventually said. “And I’ll look forward to your ‘interpretation’ when I see you again.”

She picked up her satchel and flung it over her shoulder.

“You’re leaving?” Chance asked, but he didn’t sound surprised. For some reason, that annoyed Meg.

“Message me these documents, and I’ll get to work on the profiles.”

“We could work on the profiles together.”

“Right now, I think it’s better if we work on these profiles separately,” Meg said. “We can share our results when we meet up the day after tomorrow.”

“For the next interview?”

“Exactly.”

They looked across at each other. The air was heavy with something. Meg gritted her teeth. He was lying to her. He’d just admitted as much. And yet still she wanted to stay and work with him. What was wrong with her?

“I’ll drop you back at KIT,” Chance eventually said.

“I’d rather make my own way,” Meg replied.

“Blue…”

“I’m serious, Chance,” Meg said. “I’ll speak to you in a couple of days.”

“If that’s what you think is best.”

“It is.”

With that, before she could change her mind, Meg left the room, closing the door behind her with what could be considered excessive force. Chance did not follow. Had she really expected him to? She stalked down the corridor, the orange walls annoying her in a way that didn’t make much sense. The anxious-looking woman was waiting in reception. She stepped forward the moment Meg emerged.

“Was everything okay with the office?”

Deep breath. “Everything was fine.”

“And your coworker?” asked the woman whose name tag read Miranda.

“My coworker?”

“Was everything to his liking, too?” Miranda asked.

Confusion shot through Meg. She looked behind her to where Chance, presumably, was still ensconced in his office. “I guess…”

Miranda let out what could only be called a relieved sigh. “I’m pleased to hear that.”

“Isn’t it usually?” Meg asked.

“Excuse me?”

“To his liking?”

Miranda’s face was blank. Meg lifted a hand and rubbed it against the back of her neck. The damn bun was starting to pinch.

“He comes here all the time, right?” Meg added.

“Mr. Chance?”

“Yeah.”

Miranda frowned. “I don’t think so. This is the first time I’ve seen him here.”

The confusion and the annoyance that Meg felt only deepened. “You’re new?”

“No, I’ve worked here for the last eight months.”

It was soon joined by another emotion entirely. Meg swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. “And you’ve never seen him before? That isn’t his regular office?”

“No one has a regular office here,” Miranda said. “These are short-term units only. That’s how we stay creative. Lots of different people coming in and mixing with each other.”

“Then…” Meg took another quick look behind her before taking Miranda’s arm and moving her over to the front door. The other woman gave her a confused look. Meg ignored it. There was a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew she was not going to like the answer to her next question. “Did he call to book it today?”

“It was an email booking.” Miranda paused. “It didn’t come from your coworker, though. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Meg asked.

“Well…because it came from them.”

“Them?”

“It’s why we all got so excited,” Miranda said, and she smiled. The smile lit up her face, turning her from an anxious-looking thing to a pretty young woman. She suited this place. Chance did not.

“Excited?”

“Well, yes,” Miranda said. There was a note of confiding to her tone now. Meg smiled back to encourage it. “They’ve never booked a room here before. I mean, why would they? They have the whole of X-Tech Towers at their disposal.”

X-Tech…a bolt of pure panic shot through Meg. She had no idea how she managed to keep her face blank.

“Miranda, who is ‘they’?”

Miranda’s smile slipped slightly. “You don’t know?”

“No. But you’re going to tell me.”

Miranda’s smile disappeared completely at that. “Bookings are confidential,” she said quickly.

Meg gave her a look. “Don’t be that guy.”

“It’s my job to be ‘that guy,’” Miranda replied. A moment later she let out a little sigh. “But you’ve got a room booked here, so you’re perfectly entitled to go and hang around in the creative space. Ten minutes there and you’ll soon find out. It’s all anyone is talking about.” She shot a look behind her. There was no one there. She plunged on, seemingly happy enough to confide now that Meg had given her a prod. “I told them there was no way that he was going to come here. I know he owns the building, the company that runs it, too, but he’s never actually been here in person. He never goes out in public anymore. He’s practically a recluse.” She sighed again. “I was right, too, wasn’t I? It isn’t him. He was just booking it for Mr. Chance.”

“Miranda, who is ‘he,’” Meg asked, but she feared she already knew the answer.

“Well, the booking came direct from his office…”

“Say the name,” Meg demanded.

And so, Miranda did. “Jack Richards.”