Chapter 9

“Dear Bad Bachelors, thank you for standing up for the broken hearts.”

—Ms.Manhattan

Joseph dropped down into the leather chair in his office, both hands coming up to rub vigorously over his face. He was running on three hours of sleep and twice as many cups of coffee, which made for frayed nerves, a wavering attention span, and a short temper.

After dinner last night, Annie had retired to his spare room and hadn’t come out again. They hadn’t spoken further about her confession, but armed with this new information, Joseph had started digging. When Annie had called herself the most wanted woman in New York City, she wasn’t joking. Bad Bachelors was the topic on everyone’s lips—or was that fingertips? It came up in news articles, gossip columns, blogs, forums, and on every social media platform there was. With equal strength, she had supporters and those who wanted to see her fall.

There were entire websites dedicated to finding out who was behind Bad Bachelors. Though it seemed little had been dug up, what he’d seen written on some of those message boards had made his skin crawl. It was like she’d roused the demons of the internet, the slithering, gutter-dwelling bottom-feeders of the internet. Angry posters on 4chan…and worse. They wanted blood.

However, knowing the root cause of her troubles gave him more opportunity to figure out who was after her. Annie had given him access to her emails and anything else he might need, and it hadn’t taken long to pinpoint how the hacker had gained access to her computer. It looked as though many others had tried. Annie had absorbed at least some of the lessons he’d taught her back in his internet security days. She’d been careful. Meticulously so.

But one piece of brilliant social engineering had tripped her up. On the day the malware was installed on her computer, she’d received an email with what looked to be a Word attachment containing answers to interview questions. To the untrained eye, it would look completely innocent. But the Word document was not what it appeared to be. The file had installed the spyware that allowed someone to take the picture with her webcam.

The brilliance of it was that Annie had asked them if they would like to be interviewed, based on a short, emotional email praising her site. They must have hoped she’d take the bait…and she had. Social engineering at its finest, because she wouldn’t have thought twice about opening that attachment.

Who knew what information they’d taken? But they’d been watching, that was for damn sure.

“Knock, knock.” Joseph’s assistant, Dave, poked his head into Joseph’s office. “Just wanted to check you haven’t passed out on your desk.”

Joseph laughed and looked at the stack of empty cups in front of him. “Given the amount of caffeine I’ve had today, I’m not likely to sleep for a week.”

“That’s a benefit in your job.”

Joseph had been in his new role for a little over a week, and in that time he’d decided he liked Dave. The guy was organized, efficient, and most importantly, was well connected to the other assistants in the company. If there was one thing Joseph’s career had taught him, it was that information was king. Especially the kind of information that wasn’t available through any official channels.

In banking, those who couldn’t navigate the political waters would be quickly chewed up and spat out by the corporate sharks. It wasn’t a game Joseph enjoyed playing, but it was necessary. And having someone like Dave on his side was key.

“Can I ask you something?” Joseph waved Dave into the office. “I’m assuming you’ve heard of Bad Bachelors, that date-rating website and app? You put an article in my media pack about it.”

Dave raised a brow. “That’s right. I know a bit about it, but I’m a married man. Not exactly the target audience.”

Joseph had seen the picture on Dave’s desk, the one that showed him and his wife grinning with the Eiffel Tower in the background. “I’m more curious if you’ve heard people talking about it.”

“Sure.” Dave shrugged. “I think everybody is talking about it, aren’t they? I can’t look at Twitter without seeing someone complaining about a review.”

“What exactly have you heard?”

Dave looked at him strangely, his blue eyes narrowed. Then he looked over his shoulder before closing the office door behind him and leaning his lanky frame against it. “Do we have a situation that we need to manage?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. I’ve been out of the country for the last three years.” How could he frame his questions without revealing any key information? The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know that his ex-girlfriend was the woman behind Bad Bachelors. That would not do good things for his career. “I read the article. I thought it was interesting.”

Dave folded his arms across the front of his sharp navy suit. “It is interesting. One of the hottest websites and apps in the country, and there’s speculation it’s not making any money. What’s the point, if not to cash in? They’d need a helluva motive, considering the earning potential. I heard there’ve been offers on it for over five million.”

“What’s your take on it?”

“You want my theory?” Dave tapped a long, slim finger against his clean-shaven chin. “Woman scorned, I think. Someone who had one too many failed relationships. There was speculation it was an ex-girlfriend of that PR guy Bad Bachelors was ragging on a few months back. Reed Something-or-other. They went after him hard. But it could be anyone.”

Would anyone suspect Annie? She certainly fit the bill. A woman scorned? Well, if their argument last night was anything to go on, she definitely put herself in that category.

“I had a friend who got caught up in the reviews. He broke up with his ex recently, and it wasn’t pretty. They’re having a custody battle, and she decided to use the site against him by posting a bad review.” Dave twisted his wedding band around his finger, brows knitted. “But then I’ve got another friend who swears by it. Her husband died five years ago, and she was terrified about dating again. Someone convinced her to download the app and she decided to give it a go. I’m not sure she would have tried without some kind of safety net like that. So I don’t really know what to think.”

“Kind of in a gray area, isn’t it?” Joseph pushed out of his chair and turned to the giant window behind him. It was a dream office—a corner space with big windows and lots of light. A proper Wall Street bigwig view. Too bad he spent most of his time hunched over his laptop and couldn’t truly enjoy it. “I guess if people only used it for its intended purpose that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Who’s to say what the intended purpose is, though? Maybe this is exactly what the creator was going for.”

Dave’s words struck Joseph in the chest like a blow from a hammer. Is that why Annie had created this app? To give people a way to hurt their exes? Maybe she felt helpless and wanted to lash out at him, but didn’t have an avenue for it. That didn’t sound like her though. She’d always been the kind of woman who saw the best in people.

Maybe you changed that about her. Maybe when you left, it turned her into the kind of person who wants to hurt others.

“I’m not usually a fan of giving unsolicited advice,” Dave said, “but if I were you, I’d do my best to stay off Bad Bachelors. There are a lot of eyes on you, and personally I’m psyched to work with the youngest CIO in our company’s history, but there are board members who will be looking to prove you’re not up to the task. You’re a threat to their security. To their pensions and their piles of money. They don’t want young people taking their jobs.”

Joseph turned sharply. “What have you heard?”

“Nothing outrageous. Comments about your age, mostly. A few people saying you only got the job because of your father, which is bullshit. But I’ve been around the block here. I know how it works. Hiring you was a risk because it sends a message that maybe their jobs aren’t as secure as they once thought.” Dave bobbed his head. “So they’ll be watching, waiting for you to trip up.”

“I won’t trip up.”

Dave looked as though he was about to say something else, but then he smiled and opened the door. He let it click shut softly behind him, leaving Joseph with a handful of confused thoughts and no more clarity than he’d had five minutes ago.

Getting involved in Annie’s mess could really screw things up here. At this level, there was no such thing as a second chance. They were paying him the big bucks, and that meant he either delivered or they’d get rid of him. He would do everything in his power to protect Annie, but he would have to keep it quiet.

Nobody could know about his connection to the person behind Bad Bachelors.

* * *

Being stuck in Joseph’s apartment all day had made Annie feel like a caged animal. By the time 6:00 p.m. rolled around, she was going stir-crazy.

The anonymous caller had flashed up on her screen several times today. Each time the number appeared, accompanied by the shrill ringtone she’d assigned it so she would know not to answer, her blood pressure soared higher and higher. Until eventually she’d shut the damn device off.

She’d made every effort to distract herself with work, partly to ease her guilt over taking a day off when she wasn’t really sick and partly because if she didn’t do something to keep her mind active, she’d go mad with worry. But eventually she’d drifted into the Bad Bachelors inbox, which was clogged with its usual sea of abuse and praise. More threats, more people thanking her profusely. Everything in between.

She was trying her hardest not to speculate on what Joseph might think about the whole thing. She’d heard him tapping away at the computer last night while she lay in his spare bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she’d ever sleep properly again. Was he judging her? Was he feeling guilty about their argument? Did he agree with the people who called her evil and heartless and a bad influence on society? A feminazi?

Eventually, Annie abandoned her laptop and found herself digging through Joseph’s refrigerator. She figured cooking might be a better way to keep her hands and her mind occupied, rather than looking through her inbox and wondering what the hell she was going to do.

“Old Mother Hubbard ain’t got nothing on this fridge,” she muttered to herself.

What was the point of having a giant, gleaming silver behemoth in your kitchen if you were going to leave it empty?

Half an hour later, she’d managed to locate his spare key, make her way to the little bodega next to his building, and return with ingredients for some gourmet sandwiches. It wasn’t much, but at least it would get them through the night. She was juggling her shopping bags while trying to get his key into the lock when she heard the ping of the elevators behind her. Placing the bags on the floor, she turned.

“About time…” she said, her voice dying when she saw who was striding through the hallway.

After Joseph had left her, there was only one face she’d wanted to see less than his. Only one person she hated more.

“Well, this isn’t what I was expecting to find.” Morris Preston looked at her the way he always had—like she were an offensive piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe.

“For all you know, I’m here to do the cleaning,” she retorted, issuing her best withering glare. “It’s all my family is good for, isn’t it?”

“Always so defensive, Leanne.”

“It’s Annie. Or is your memory starting to go?” She jammed the key into the lock. “I haven’t been Leanne for a long time.”

But of course, in Morris’s eyes, she would only ever be the little wisp of a girl who was the daughter of their housekeeper. The hired help. He’d scolded her once—for running around his house when her mother had brought her to work after their sitter canceled, and she’d been bored out of her brain. Who could blame a five-year-old girl for getting fidgety in a house where she wasn’t allowed to touch anything? Morris expected everyone around him to adhere to his rules. At all times. Without exception.

That’s why he’d hated her from the start. Not only did she not come from “good breeding,” but she had a mind of her own. And he didn’t like that.

“Joseph isn’t here.” She pushed the door open and held it with a foot while she bent to pick up her bags. Unsurprisingly, Morris didn’t offer any assistance. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“I’ll wait.”

Morris hadn’t changed a bit. Well, maybe his silver hair had thinned a little. But he was still a large, imposing man with shoulders enhanced by a double-breasted suit, and the ice-cold gaze of someone who knew that power was theirs at all times. He still had that big, booming voice that was rumored to reduce a man to a quivering mess in an instant. He’d tried that on her once. It was the one time he’d actually voiced what she knew he’d been thinking all along: that Annie was some gold digger from the wrong side of the tracks, a common mutt who would never be accepted in their family.

“Then you can wait downstairs.” She stood in the doorway, not caring that she didn’t have a right to say who could and couldn’t enter Joseph’s apartment. The last thing she wanted in the midst of all this drama was to be stuck with the man who’d never done anything but make her doubt herself.

Morris took a step forward, his hands clasped in front of him. A heavy gold watch glinted from one wrist, matching the band on his ring finger. “From what I understand, you already have one of his apartments. Are you planning on stealing this one too?”

In less than thirty seconds, he’d found something to throw in her face. “If you’re here to see Joseph, I’ve already told you he’s not here. If you’re here to harass me, then consider it a job well done. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going inside.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat made her head snap to the side. Joseph stood there, arms folded across the front of his slick black suit. Fire in his eyes. She hadn’t even heard the elevator open.

“Are you two done with this pissing match yet?”

God, she remembered that tone. For a fleeting second, guilt streaked through her. Joseph had always been stuck in the middle—the buffer between his difficult-to-please parents and the girlfriend who could never live up to their expectations. He’d tried so hard. Probably harder than most would have. And it still wasn’t enough. By setting up that job for him in Singapore, Morris had eventually gotten his claws in and widened the wedge between them.

“I was in the neighborhood.” As always, Morris was cool as a cucumber. “I wasn’t aware you had company.”

“It’s my apartment. Sometimes I have company. You can always call ahead if you’re uncertain.”

Well, that was new. There was frost in Joseph’s voice, a glacial edge that she hadn’t heard before, at least not when he was talking to his father.

Morris raised a brow. “And which one of you should I call?”

“I don’t live here.” She was still in the doorway, her foot keeping the door open and the grocery bags feeling heavier by the second. She was tempted to dump the lot on the floor and get the hell out of there, because the one good thing about not being in a relationship with Joseph anymore was that she didn’t have to take any shit from his family. “And you’re not welcome to have my phone number.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” The insult couldn’t have been clearer.

“I could say the same for you.”

“Enough!” Joseph slapped his hand against the wall, and the sound echoed through the hallway. “Is it too much to ask that we behave like adults? I’ve had a long fucking day and, frankly, I don’t have the patience for this. Dad, I’m busy. Next time, call ahead and I’ll let you know if I’m free.”

Joseph stalked toward the door and Annie took a step back, unsure if he was going to kick her out too. She’d be taking the stairs; that was damn sure. Because there was no way in hell she’d let herself be stuck in an elevator with Morris Preston.

“Get inside,” Joseph said, his tone heavy. “Unless you want to hang out with my dad some more.”

“Hard pass.”

He pressed his shoulder to the door and took the grocery bags from her, motioning for her to go ahead. Morris gaped while Joseph let the door swing shut in his face. That’s when Annie realized her pulse was racing, despite the fact that she’d done her best to seem cold and unaffected on the surface. Unfortunately, making other people feel inferior was Morris’s superpower. Even now that she owed him nothing and needed nothing from him, he still managed to reduce her to unpleasant visceral reactions.

Only this time, instead of defusing the situation, Joseph had taken her side. At least that’s how it seemed.

“I thought I told you not to leave the house.” He raked a hand through his hair, strong fingers driving through thick strands that stubbornly flopped back into place the second he dropped his arm.

“And you expect a girl to starve?” She walked to the kitchen and dumped the bags on the counter. Then she started to unpack the cold meats, fresh bread rolls, and the little slab of cheese that had cost a fortune, but that she knew he would like. “Your fridge is a ghost town.”

“I wasn’t expecting to have two mouths to feed.”

“It doesn’t look like you were expecting to have one mouth to feed either.” She shot him a pointed look. “Are you getting on that new air diet that everyone is talking about?”

His harsh expression softened a touch, a smirk tugging at his lips. “It would certainly suit my lifestyle. Pretty easy to do meal prep.”

She opened the bag containing the rolls and grabbed a cutting board sitting neatly against the kitchen backsplash. A funny feeling had settled in her stomach, something like butterflies but not as pretty. He’d chosen her this time, over his father. It was something she’d asked him to do so many times before, especially when Morris had seemed determined to break her. And yet Joseph had always played piggy in the middle, never choosing a side or taking a stand.

At least not in public.

“Your dad is a delight, as usual.” She yanked a bread knife from the wooden block and noticed it still had a sticker on the handle. The guy hadn’t even cut a piece of bread since he moved in?

“And you were giving him what he wanted. As usual.” Joseph shrugged out of his suit jacket and yanked at the tie around his neck, his movements sharp and jerky. She tried not to stare at the way his fitted white shirt stretched across his chest as he moved. But her mouth was watering, and it had nothing to do with the food in front of her. “Almost like I never left.”

She wanted to snap at him. It felt too soon for that joke, even though it wasn’t. Instead, she ran the serrated blade over the crispy roll until she hit the soft, fluffy center. Crumbs skittered over the cutting board.

“What did he say?” Joseph’s voice drifted down the hall as he walked into his bedroom. There was a rustling of fabric, and Annie forced herself not to think about what he would look like getting changed. “Or don’t I want to know?”

“You know what it’s like with him. It’s more how he says things than what he actually says.”

“That sounds about right.”

She made their sandwiches, layering prosciutto with sun-dried tomatoes and crumbly pieces of cheese. “I thought you might kick me out.”

“Why would I do that when I was worried about you leaving the house?”

She kept her eyes on the cutting board as his footsteps grew louder behind her, causing a tremor to run the length of her spine. Her body anticipated his touch—waited for a hand to curve over her hip, to slide up her waist and under her top. Her flesh tingled with want, with need, with memories of him.

“You didn’t have to speak to him.” He was close behind her now, not touching, although the air between them bristled with electricity. “You don’t owe him anything.”

“No, I don’t. But he’s not very good at taking no for an answer.” She reached up to the cupboard above and pulled down two plates, well aware that her sweater would rise up enough to reveal a band of skin above her jeans. The feeling of being watched intensified, sliding over her skin and winding through her blood. “One of the many traits you inherited from him.”

“Don’t compare me to him.”

She wanted to turn and look at him. But she couldn’t. Because seeing him care about her well-being, care about the past, and choosing her over his father cracked the layer of ice around her heart. And that was dangerous. She needed that ice, that protection.

“I am nothing like him.”

“You chose your job over the person you supposedly loved.” The words were bitter on her tongue. She was lashing out to take the focus off what truly frightened her—that she needed him. That she didn’t have anywhere else to go. “I thought you’d turned into him.”

“You can at least look me in the eye when you insult me like that.”

Annie sucked in a breath and counted to three before she slowly turned. It was like peering over the edge of a volcano, shimmering and bright. The heat so intense, she was worried her eyelashes might singe right off. The old Joseph would never have engaged in such an argument. His specialty was storming off, slamming doors. Avoidance.

But now he looked armed and ready for battle, ready to stand his ground.

And for some ungodly reason, it put Annie’s entire body on red alert. Right then, it was like being in an alternate reality. One where he’d never left, where she’d never let her fear push him away. Where they had both been more mature and better equipped to deal with the curveballs that life had thrown them. Where they were exactly where they were supposed to be—together.

“Care to say that again?” His jaw ticked. The hard expression on his face was completely misleading, because she knew that underneath that layer of anger and resentment was something far more primal. His spring-morning eyes were darkened, blackened.

He was as excited as she was.

“I thought you had turned into him,” she repeated, tipping her face up and nailing him with her gaze. If there was one thing that Annie never did, it was back down. “Like father, like son.”