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Jared’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He should have given Mikki his number. He couldn’t help his smile at the thought. Great, he was acting like a crushing teenager. Which, when he thought about it, wasn’t as much of an issue as it should have been.
He pulled up the text from Dewson, and his gut turned in on itself. We’re infected.
Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes someone clicked something in an email, and it was always isolated immediately. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he’d asked Dewson to look into the rumors Rosen had mentioned. This couldn’t be related. He sent back a reply. How bad?
Trojan. Database array.
Shit. His mind was already whirring ahead several steps, even while he executed each thing that needed to be done now. Are we clean now?
Probably. Need a second set of eyes.
A directory of names ticked through his head. Who could check Dewson’s work? His staff was small, but they were all good at what they did. No, he’d do this one himself. Another question slammed into the forefront of his thoughts, pushing all his lists and plotting to the side.
It died at the tip of his tongue. Something told him he didn’t want to know the answer, but that was ridiculous. It wasn’t like it mattered. Still, he had to force his fingers to type it out. Do we know where it came from?
Jared had stepped aside from the flow of traffic and had all his attention focused on his phone. The seconds ticked away, and his hands twitched. How long did it take to type out a name, or a “no”?
When his phone finally vibrated, he jumped. Tension ached in his temples. You.
A bitter laugh slipped from his throat. If his promotion hadn’t already been shot, it would have been now.
More digging uncovered that the message had his name on it, and someone in IT had opened it and clicked the link, but after having Dewson forward the appropriate information along—message headers and such—he knew it hadn’t come from his computer or phone.
But it was an amazing imitation. Who knew how to do something like that? Jared pushed aside the nagging in the back of his head. It was an old scar. Resurfacing insecurities. Mikki may have been at the root of the original problem, but just finding out he didn’t know about that simple indiscretion had torn her up. Hadn’t it? There was no way she was doing something actually vindictive.
He told Dewson he’d take care of the rest—double-checking to make sure the virus was gone, figuring out what systems had been breached, and uncovering out how someone had tricked their network into believing the email was from him.
He took a deep breath and corralled the rambling bullshit to the back of his thoughts. If they were home, he’d take point on something this serious and his people would back him up. But he wasn’t trusting it to anyone except himself and his friends. Tate and Vivian could keep up under his direction, despite their different career paths. Between the three of them, they would make this right.
Within minutes, they were waiting for him in a quiet corner of the hotel lobby. He gave them the lowdown as quickly as possible.
Vivian’s brow creased with concern. “You’re okay, right?”
Besides stressed, concerned, and a little wounded that this had happened under his watch, it was all status quo. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Tate cleared his throat, and Jared’s head swung in that direction.
Tate shrugged. “This kind of violation isn’t exactly easy to pull off, is it?”
“You know it’s not.”
Tate glanced at Vivian, but she was still fiddling with her purse. He looked back at Jared. “So who would love to see us fall? Who has someone working for them who knows how to do something like this?”
He was asking if Mikki was behind this. Jared wanted to snap at him for the assumption. What he hated even more was that part of him was asking the same question, even though she’d just finished apologizing.
He stashed the doubt. “If someone on Hayden’s side did this, we’ll shut them down. First, we have to make sure we’re clean, we have to make sure this won’t happen again, and we have to do it now. Where can we set up?”
Tate’s face twitched with a bitter smile. “I’ve got the high roller suite. A lot more room to spread out.”
“Good call.” Jared glanced at Vivian. “Grab your laptop. Track down the concierge and see where we can find a couple of clean ones as well. Out of the box. Nearest Fry’s, Walmart, whatever. I’ll grab the secure hotspot.”
“Right. I’ll meet you both upstairs as soon as I can.” Vivian turned away even as she spoke.
A hollow ache throbbed under Jared’s ribcage. It wasn’t true. This was bad luck, and it had nothing to do with Mikki. Except it did. Even if it didn’t come directly from her, her carelessness, combined with a scary knack for the obtuse, could have made this happen. He shoved the thoughts aside. Wallowing could wait.
“Can we get Legal on the phone?” he asked as he and Tate made their way to the elevators.
“Can you prove NetSys is behind this? Like undeniable, someone’s-grandpa-could-understand-it proof?”
Jared clenched his teeth. They both knew proof was almost impossible. Some hackers signed their names, but not usually those involved in corporate espionage. Besides, right now it all pointed back to Jared anyway. Unless they could pinpoint where the infected message had actually come from, there was no point in doing anything besides plugging the hole as quickly as possible.
****
MIKKI SET HER PHONE on the counter in the bathroom and cranked the volume. It wasn’t as good as having it attached to the docking station she had back home, but the echo of the tiles gave her enough to sing along with. She wiped the steam from the mirror. Happy eyes and cheeks flushed with the heat of her shower stared back. She’d finished clearing up their display in the exhibit hall early and rushed back to her room, giddy with fantasies of the night ahead of her. She’d tried to take her time in the shower so she wouldn’t have to wait long. Her clock told her she still had more than an hour until Jared would be there, though.
Blow-drying her hair only took up fifteen minutes. She stared at her luggage. Now, what to wear? After examining and discarding every piece of clothing she’d packed, she sank onto the bed. Maybe she should have thought of that earlier. Stopped by one of the casino shops and picked up something sexy. She absentmindedly twirled the belt of her robe around her finger, sliding the red satin back and forth.
She looked down at the kimono-style robe. Then stood and spun, examining herself from every angle in the mirror above the desk. The thought of opening the door for him dressed in nothing but the robe sent a rush of excitement through her. She needed to calm down a little. He’d mentioned dinner and conversation. And as much as she loved the memories of what he could do to her body, she was looking forward to some more in-depth getting to know each other as well.
Her imagination wanted something else. She perched on the edge of her bed, legs crossed.
The minutes passed, and the clock rolled past seven. Something twinged inside as the time hit five minutes late, and then ten. He was just tied up, right? She knew how busy he was. Something had snagged his attention. He couldn’t let her know because he was on the phone or in a meeting.
And didn’t have her number. The thought rolled through her head, taunting her. But trailing behind came another, much better one. She did have his. She’d snagged business cards from pretty much every booth at the show, and his was in the stack.
Seconds later, she dug his card out and had his number in her phone. Her thumbs hesitated above the screen. Would she seem needy if she sent him a message? He was probably on his way up now. Right? She glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes late. No, this would be okay. She sent him a quick text. It’s Mikki. Just making sure everything’s okay.
Another half an hour ticked by, and nothing. Sick dread nudged her senses. He’d said they weren’t completely okay but had still forgiven her. Had he changed his mind? Had the few hours apart given him a new perspective on how badly she’d fucked up?
She was overreacting. There was nothing wrong. Sometimes life happened. She set him another quick note. You all right? Where are you?
Which was okay, right? They hadn’t exactly defined their relationship this afternoon, but she assumed when he said he wanted to see more of her, he’d meant it.
Except an hour after she sent the message, and still had no response, she wasn’t so sure. She clicked on the TV and cycled through the channels two times before she realized she had no idea what she’d just seen on any of them. Another hour passed. He wasn’t coming. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t going to show up.
She set her phone on the nightstand and lay on her stomach on the bed. Crime drama. That should take her mind off things. Classic, straightforward whodunit with a smattering of interrogation and court room drama. The victim had been killed by his business partner, who had been sleeping with the victim’s wife, and embezzling from their company.
Mikki clicked the channel to something with cartoons instead. The inanities and three nights of almost no sleep combined with her wounded disappointment and pulled her eyelids shut.
A loud hum tore through the room, jarring her awake. She stared around her room, blinking away the sleep. What the hell? She turned toward the nightstand. A sad giggle escaped. It was just her phone vibrating against the solid surface.
She grabbed the device, not able to suppress her hope. It was Jared. It had to be. He had a good excuse. Her gut sank when she read the message. It was definitely him, all right.
His note just said, Cleaning up your mess. A Trojan, really?
She clicked the words around in her head, looking for a meaning. She knew what they meant, but how did it relate to her? Realization crashed in around her, and she sank to the floor. Someone had exploited what she’d found. It was the most plausible reason she could think of for why he’d be blaming her. Someone who’d known all the details of what she’d uncovered and had access to her phone less than twenty-four hours ago.
Her hands were shaking as she pulled up her phone’s email history. There it was, sitting in a file that was deleted but still hiding on her phone, with Jared’s email information spoofed as headers. Whoever had used her phone to do this hadn’t even bothered to cover his tracks.
She pulled up Hayden’s number, her raging fury making it difficult to even think. He’d still be on his flight, but he always checked his messages as soon as he landed. She didn’t try to keep her voice steady. It took enough effort to keep a string of profanities and cruel names from flying to her lips. “It’s Mikki. I know it’ll be late when you get in, but I thought you’d like to know sooner rather than later. I quit.”
All his warnings about her finding other work faded into the back of her mind. This was unacceptable. It bordered on illegal. She couldn’t draw a paycheck from these people even if it did mean finding another job would be a struggle.
She pulled herself into the easy chair next to the bed and turned her attention back to the TV. Cleaning up your mess. Jared’s text echoed in her thoughts. She hadn’t meant to cause a mess. It was never supposed to be like this. This was more than the simplicity of her wanting to know if she was better than the legendary Jared Tippins; it impacted an entire company. The livelihood of thousands of people.
She needed to find Jared and make things right. It didn’t matter that sleep tugged at her senses. Rest could wait until this entire thing was straightened out.
She pulled on some clothes, grabbed her phone and her room key, and headed straight for the elevator. Hopefully Jared would be in his room. She had to help him make this right.
She pounded as loud as she dared without drawing attention from the neighbors and staff. Her gut sank further when there was no answer. Now what?
When her phone vibrated against her hip, it jarred her from the edge of panic. She didn’t check the display, hitting answer on autopilot while her brain whirred for solutions on where to look for Jared next. “Hello?” Her voice cracked, and she winced.
“Everything all right?” Hayden’s cheerful tone sharpened the edge of her exhaustion.
Any restraint she’d used earlier was lost in the haze of exhaustion and frustration. Time to be blunt. “No, it’s not. Things have moved past bad and straight into fucked up.”
His chuckle drifted over the phone line and sent ice dragging up her spine. “Then maybe you should have been more selective about how you landed your job.” His tone was steel. “I’ve tried to put this politely, and I’ve tried to hint. You’re smart. I figured you got what I was implying. The signing bonus was to help soothe your conscience. The fact you’ve kept quiet for six months implies you didn’t want to be found out. That you fucked their director of technology and still didn’t say anything indicates you’re getting off on the entire thing. If you quit now, you’ll never work tech again. Not just in this industry, but in any. Just like the guy who interviewed you. And your resignation is accepted, by the way.”
The line clicked off, and Mikki stared at the device in her hands. Rage, fear, and nausea all rolled inside. She didn’t know how she was going to make this better, but if it was the equivalent of spitting in Hayden’s face and helped Jared out at the same time, she’d sacrifice a lot to make it happen.