Drunk In Love (Tri-State Security #2)

1. Kamaya

CHAPTER 1

Kamaya

The sweltering late June day in New York was unbearable, and I couldn’t wait to return to the office. Maxwell and I always took our lunches at the same time so we could eat together. It wasn’t something we’d ever discussed, but in the two years I’d been employed with Tri-State Security, we’d become fast friends and spent a lot of time together. That is, of course, when he wasn’t getting on my nerves like he did in the beginning of my employment.

It’s funny to think how when I first started working for the security firm, Maxwell’s I know more than you attitude rubbed me the wrong way. He inaccurately assumed because I was the newest on the team that I didn’t know my shit. Thankfully we got over that and discovered how well we get along.

Now, Maxwell is one of my best friends, but I still need time with my female friends when Maxwell’s cynical guy attitude drives me crazy. Speaking of other friends, I check an incoming text from Nicole, my friend since our college days.

Sorry, Kammy! I have to cancel drinks with you Daniella and Mona. Bryson got us tickets to see Aerie and you know how badly I’ve wanted to see Aerie live! Please don’t be mad at me.

I release a breath in disappointment. Nicole has been doing this for a while now. Cancelling last minute, sometimes as close as minutes before any plans we’d made in advance. I do know how much she loves the band Aerie, but it would be a lie to say that it didn’t hurt that Nicole is bailing on getting drinks with my sisters and me so she can hang with her boyfriend.

“Uh-oh, why the sigh?” Maxwell nudges my side. He’s trying to get me to cheer up by making a goofy face, but I was really looking forward to tonight’s hang out.

We’re walking side by side on the bustling midtown street amid afternoon foot traffic. Walking in tandem with our to-go bags from Essen: Caesar wrap for me and stir-fry for the always hungry Maxwell. Essen is our go-to eatery for lunches we spend together. One thing about Maxwell is he’s reliable, unlike some others in my life.

“Nicole had to cancel last minute for tonight because Bryson got her tickets to see Aerie,” I say, extoling the woes of having a best friend in a new and thankfully happy relationship.

“That sucks,” Maxwell says, opening the doors to the large building we work in. The towering slate-gray building houses many offices for various businesses, and at this time of day, there’s a flurry of activity as office dwellers go to and fro. The building has a prime location in the heart of Manhattan and is an accessible commute from where Max and I both live in Jersey City.

“Yeah, Nicole and I haven’t hung out in a while, ever since she started dating Bryson,” I say, standing at the elevator bank with Max.

“Oh, I know all about those friends. They disappear as soon as they get into a relationship,” he says as we wait for the next available elevator doors to open.

“I guess I don’t ever have to worry about you bailing on me,” I say.

Max meets my gaze again, his dark-brown eyes not conveying too much vulnerability. That wasn’t Max. He definitely kept his cards tucked close to his chest. “No, I have no interest in relationships. All doomed,” he responds.

I shake my head at Max’s expression. “Even you can’t be this cynical about all relationships.”

Maxwell turns to me like I’ve suddenly grown two heads. I knew his staunch anti-relationships stance, but I always figured it was temporary. Now he seemed to be against relationships forever. Someday he’d make an excellent husband or partner to a woman who could hopefully make him see that not all relationships are doomed forever and ever and for all of eternity.

I’m not certain any woman in the world is that persuasive, but I hope one day he finds her.

“Kam, look at the state of dating for our generation,” Max continues. “Literally everyone is either a user or a narcissist.”

My eyes widen at his pessimistic declaration. “Not everyone. You and I aren’t like that!”

Maxwell only shrugs, and the material of his gray suit jacket strains on his muscular shoulders. “Yeah, well it’s not like we’ll ever date each other. It’s hard meeting people organically these days, and need I remind you what a shit show dating apps are?”

I couldn’t help the recoil that went through me. I knew that dating apps were responsible for many happy couples, but my short-lived time on them was a disaster. A bad social experiment that I was in no rush to repeat. “Please, no reminders of my horrific time using a dating app. Should rename the app Unhinged .”

Maxwell laughs at me. “Remember that guy in Brooklyn you almost went out with about two months ago? Wasn’t he the one who sent you the address to a warehouse?”

I groan. I was never going to live down that zany tale. “Thank God I googled the address before agreeing to the date! Not to mention the article that popped up about several raves being shut down due to multiple noise complaints,” I say and shudder. “But he’s only one very bad example. Not everyone is crazy.”

Maxwell’s brow rises skeptically, but he tended to see things in a pragmatic way.

The first elevator on the left of the bank is available.

“Finally,” Max says, pressing the button to our floor once we’re inside. He turns to his side towards me. “I rest my case. Relationships are doomed.”

I swat his arm. “I refuse to give into your glass-half-empty attitude. My sisters have found love and so can I… I hope.”

Maxwell shakes his head at me. “We have completely different outlooks on relationships and that’s okay. Clearly, we’re not going to agree,” he says, turning away to depress the Door Close button when a voice rings out.

“Hold the doors!”

I instantly recognize the deep baritone of Zach Stapely, my boss Brandon’s friend and my office building crush. Zach works for the Financial Journal one floor below us and had been there the same number of years that Tri-State Security has been in business. He and Brandon were tight, and Zach occasionally came to visit Brandon in our office. Zach was brown-skinned, built with sinewed muscle, and wore wire-thin glasses. He could have passed for a young college professor with his sartorial style. I could feel my heart rate quicken whenever he was near.

Zach and I had built a friendly rapport, but the more I saw him, my crush only intensified.

“Hey, Kamaya,” Zach says in greeting as he steps into the elevator.

“Hi, Zach,” I say, my voice cracking on the hi . Oh boy, I was a grown woman acting like a schoolgirl.

Maxwell and Zach exchange brief nods, acknowledging each other. Maxwell never had too much to say to the other man, seeming to take an instant dislike of him. As far as I knew, the two men never had any issues in the past, but they never appeared too friendly toward each other either.

“How’s your day going so far?” Zach says to me.

“Gwell,” I say too quickly. I’d started to say “good” and that sounded trite and then my brain autocorrected to “well” and that’s how I end up with gwell . Smooth, Kamaya.

I can’t even look at Maxwell to my right, though I can hear him choking back laughter.

I clear my throat. “It’s going well,” I correct myself. Before I can say any more, we’ve reached Zach’s floor.

“Good seeing you both,” he says before stepping out of the elevator. He takes one last long look at me before the doors close, and then Maxwell and I are alone again.

“Smooth,” Max says once the doors have closed and we ascend up one floor to our office.

“Shut up, Max. Don’t judge me!”

“If this is how you react around men you like, then I don’t know what to tell you,” Max says, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh.

“Stop it. It’s not funny,” I say, sitting down at my desk and removing the wraps from the brown paper bag. My desk is always full of random sticky notes and reminders to myself scattered over the many monitors that I use each day. Max’s workstation, on the other hand, is pristine at all times.

Maxwell throws his hands up in surrender. “I’m only playing, but seriously, you can’t expect anything to happen with Zach if you keep behaving that way.”

Much as I hate to admit it, Max is right. If I continue on with my awkward behavior, I’ll face more pitying looks from family members in the future and articles my mother forwards to me titled “ Ten Tips On How to be Happy — Solo ”.

“Oh good, you’re both back,” Brandon calls out as he makes his way over to our desks. Max sits opposite me with a low partition separating us.

Our boss is in a bespoke suit. Ever since he met his fiancée, Ava Wells, he typically sports a more casual look, having loosened up with her entrance in his life. When he appears in the office in a suit, that usually means he has an important meeting.

“I didn’t realize you’d be in today. I thought for sure you’d be heading to Greenwich for wedding preparations. You know, big weekend and all,” I remark.

Brandon smiles. “Ava will have my hide if I’m not there by this evening. This was an addition to our schedules. The three of us will be meeting with Zach and Cecily van Zandt.”

“Your friend Zach?” I question. Almost saying my Zach . Luckily I caught myself.

“Yes, the very one. I’m not sure what the meeting is about exactly, but he asked for a meet-up,” Brandon says.

Maxwell raises a brow at me when Brandon mentions Zach’s name. “We’ll be there,” Max responds.

“Perfect,” Brandon replies. “See you both in an hour.”

Once Brandon is out of earshot, Max lowers his voice before continuing. “Looks like you’ll be reunited with your crush.”

Maxwell only laughs at my glare before I ignore him and take a bite of my lunch. I’m looking forward to seeing Zach again.

“Time to go meet your beau,” Max says, leaning on the partition separating our desks. I glance at the time on the laptop screen and realize we have three minutes to make it to the conference room.

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” I say, shutting my laptop and taking it with me, along with my Moleskine notebook.

Max chuckles at my unamused attitude and falls into step beside me as we make our way through the office. The large monitor with a map of the tri-state area shows the location of Bree and Westin, other members of our team who are in Connecticut finishing up a security detail assignment.

“What do you think this sudden meeting is about?” Max asks.

“I was wondering the same thing. Important enough that Brandon is delaying getting to Greenwich for wedding preparations.”

We take a seat on the right side of the U-shaped conference table. Max and I are the first to arrive.

“Speaking of Greenwich, are you packed for tomorrow?”

The entire Tri-State Security staff are to be part of Brandon and Ava’s wedding party. Westin and Maxwell are two of Brandon’s groomsmen, and Bree and I will be two of Ava’s bridesmaids. After many dress fittings and changes, the wedding will finally be underway this weekend. Due to the bride’s influencer status and Brandon’s name coming from old family money, the wedding was sure to get a lot of attention.

“Of course, I’m not going to shirk my duties as bridesmaid,” I say. “You and Westin, however, have to be warned. No wild bachelor party,” I add as a caution.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Max says, unable to hide a grin.

“Perfect. Everyone is here,” Brandon says, holding the conference room door open for Zach, who has since taken off his blazer and appears in shirtsleeves that show off his muscular forearms and shoulders.

Trailing Zach is Cecily van Zandt, the heiress and current CEO of the Financial Journal publication. I’d never seen her in person, but the septuagenarian looks very regal in her light-blue tweed skirt suit. Her expression, however, is unreadable and makes me wonder how serious this meeting will be.

“Zach needs no introduction as he’s familiar with everyone in our office, but Mrs. Van Zandt, please meet Kamaya Blake, head of cybersecurity, and Maxwell Scott, senior protection agent.”

Max and I stand to greet Mrs. Van Zandt. She carried an air around her that commanded respect and made no room for familiarity on a first-name basis.

“Pleased to meet you both,” she says after shaking our hands and taking a seat at the head of the table next to Brandon. “Zachary, please advise everyone of what has occurred.”

“Well, it’s been brought to our attention that there’s been a leak in our group subscriptions. Essentially, someone has been able to grant access to an institution that we’re not affiliated with, and they were somehow able to get past the paywall.”

Cecily pipes up after Zach’s explanation. “As you can imagine, a leak like that causes a huge loss in revenue for the journal. The majority of our readership comes from group subscriptions to some of the finest financial institutions and universities across the globe.”

Maxwell nudges my elbow and motions towards my laptop. I push the computer closer to his side for his use.

“We’re sorry to hear about what’s happened, Mrs. Van Zandt and Zach. I remember you mentioning how important securing those group subscriptions is to your publication,” Brandon says.

“Yes, and where you all come in is helping us figure out who is behind it. We plan to put a stop to whoever is behind this. Financial Journal has never conducted any business with City University, but somehow their IP address keeps showing up during our internal investigation. That’s how we discovered there must have been hacking or a leak,” Zach says.

Cecily scrunches her nose at the mention of City University. “As if FJ or anyone employed by us would have anything to do with that…that…school. FJ has always been the leading publication for respectable universities like Columbia or Cornell.”

I wasn’t sure what her disdain for City University was. My younger sister Daniella was a new student there after taking a few years off from her education after high school.

“Well, Kamaya is an expert in the field of cybercrimes, and I know she’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Zach smiles at Brandon’s words and makes eye contact with me. I can feel my cheeks warming. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure out where the subscription leak is coming from and put a stop to anyone unauthorized getting access to your company’s site,” I say.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Mrs. Van Zandt says, flicking imaginary lint from her jacket sleeve.

“And you?” She turns the swivel chair in Maxwell’s direction. “What will be your role in all this?”

Zach turns towards Max, arms crossed, also waiting for his answer. Brandon speaks up first.

“Max is my second in command and will be holding everything down while I’m away on my honeymoon,” Brandon interjects. “Since this involves a friend of mine, and I know Max and Kamaya work well together, I want them paired up.”

“Alright, then,” Mrs. Van Zandt says, beginning to stand. “Anything else, Zachary?”

“No, I think we’re good for now. I look forward to working with Kamaya next week.” He pauses. “And you too, Maxwell.”

Max quickly hides his displeasure at Zach’s not so subtle dig. Because I know Max’s ticks so well, I’m certain I’m the only person who caught it. I didn’t know how this assignment was going to pan out with the two men’s underlying animosity.

“Great,” Brandon says, standing up to walk Cecily and Zach out. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get out of here before I have an incensed wife-to-be.”