Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Alyssia padded from one end of her office to the other, then spun and retraced her steps.
Her bare feet slapped against the cool tile.
She’d stashed her heels under her desk until she really needed to wear them.
They weren’t conducive to pacing. She paused in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her office door.
The skirt and jacket outfit were conservative, and professional looking.
The perfect thing to wear in front of a camera, and tell the local news that her shelter was a good thing, instead of the spawn of some greater demon of the billionth plane of hell.
She straightened her shirt, and pushed a strand of hair back into her braid.
Crap, maybe she should have worn her scrubs instead.
Something that made it clear she was a doctor, and not just a girl playing a part.
She squeezed her fingers together and then relaxed them.
Right now she felt like a girl playing a part.
This had to go well. The group of picketers outside was growing larger, instead of shrinking, and her time was running out to raise the money to keep the building.
Her phone rang, and Sara’s voice followed. “Your visitors are here.”
“I’ll be right there.” Too late to change now. Alyssia took a deep breath, and opened the door.
The interviewer gave her a warm smile, and introduced her to the small crew.
Alyssia’s tension ebbed as the afternoon progressed.
They chatted, it was friendly, no invasive questions asked—not really.
The closest it came was asking for her side of the story when it came to the Thompson’s dog.
She told them what she was allowed based on the pending criminal case.
That the dog had come in injured, and they’d treated him, and were holding him until he found a fitting home.
She walked through the kennels with the cameraman, let a few dogs out to play.
Almost two hours later, when she saw the news crew to the front door, Alyssia felt better about the situation than she had since that horrible news story almost a week ago. Time to change in to her scrubs and get some work done.
She strolled toward the back rooms, and a jarring crash spilled through the room.
Her heart jumped into her throat, and she spun before her brain registered it was the sound of shattering glass.
A large rock—twice as big as her fist at least—sat in the middle of the lobby.
Fortunately the window was tempered, so most of it had rained straight down, but small shards had escaped, and littered the room.
Chants and cheers flowed in from the picketers outside.
Alyssia forced her racing heart to slow.
“Sara, call the police.” There wasn’t anyone in the waiting room besides staff—a fact she’d hated a few hours ago but was grateful for now.
“Ricco, will you grab the broom? I need to change. Give me just a few and I’ll help you clean up. ”
While she was changing, she grabbed her phone.
Her thumb hesitated over Tate’s number. What was he going to do?
She pushed the bitter longing aside, and dialed Robert Tippins instead.
“Hey, Dad. I know it’s after eight, I’m sorry.
But I need to board up a window at the shelter, and we don’t have tools here, can you help? ”
“A window? What’s going on? Are you all right?”
She winced and held the phone from her ear. “I’m fine, Daddy. You still have some plywood from the remodel, right?”
“Of course, hon. I’ll be right there.”
She disconnected, and tossed the device back on her desk. A sob bubbled inside her, and she forced it aside. She wouldn’t panic. She could handle this. Helping Ricco sweep up glass, talking to the police, making sure the window was secure once her dad got there, all of it kept her mind occupied.
When they left, her mind turned on her. Running rampant and taunting her with every fear and worry she’d swallowed that afternoon and evening.
She gave Sara a weak smile, shuffled into her office, and collapsed into her chair.
What was she going to do? The news interview better work out for her tomorrow. Something needed to go right.
Her fingers twitched toward her cell phone.
Call Tate, chanted in her head. That wasn’t an option.
Not until she knew she could handle herself around him without caving again.
She needed to get to work, instead. Bury herself in the job, and her mind would do what it needed to, just like cleaning up the mess in the lobby.
She pulled up the crowd-funding admin page.
Donations spilled in slowly. A couple a day, but nowhere near what they’d need to meet their goal before their deadline.
The largest donation—the anonymous one that had come in first—still sat at the top of the page.
Taunting her. Something clicked in her thoughts as she studied the number.
Something Jared had said the other day? Mikki had discovered…
She couldn’t grasp the idea. It would come to her. Right now, she needed to concentrate on work, and not losing the shelter. The rest could wait.
* * *
Tate had a love hate relationship with short work weeks.
On the one hand, taking Monday off meant all the good, obvious things like extra time away from work.
On the other hand, it also meant five days of work compressed into four, and always feeling like he was a day behind.
He scanned the messages waiting for him when he got into the office Wednesday morning.
His eyes grew wide when he saw the newsletter from NetSafe Systems. He subscribed to all manner of industry mailing lists as part of his job, so getting the email wasn’t the surprise.
It was the content. NetSafe Systems announces their newest offering—crowd-funding for your small business!
Tate’s irritation grew as he read the rest of the promo. Most of it was standard hype. It was the mentions of heightened security, twenty-four-seven community managers, and a fool-proof comment system. On top of all that, this was the first he’d heard of it.
He clenched his fist, glaring at the screen. He’d expected them to compete, it was what they did. The phrasing in the message gnawed at him, though. Heightened security. The phrase repeated in his thoughts.
Fuck. Time to take a stroll. Seconds later he stood a few doors down, in front of Vivian’s office. She looked up at the knock, and gave him a half smile. “What’s up?”
He took the chair across from her desk, pulled up the message on his phone, and slid it across to her. “What do you think?”
As she scanned, her lips drew into a thin line. She handed the device back to him. “So they already know what happened to you on Saturday.”
“I assume. So much for non-disclosure agreements, right?” His question was flat.
“They could have seen the issues. All your sites were dragging.”
Tate spit out his theory. “Could have seen, may have caused…”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Childish, unethical assholes,” she muttered, and dialed a number on her desk phone.
“Yup?” Mikki answered.
Tate leaned in to speak. “The slowdown on Saturday. Can you take another look and see if there’s anything suspicious about it.”
“There was.” Mikki’s answer came too quickly. “Someone tried to take a bunch of websites offline that weren’t doing anything but sitting out there all happy and boring like.”
Tate might have laughed at the dry retort, if his suspicion and concern weren’t mounting. “We’re looking for more than that. A fingerprint.”
“Give me ten.” Mikki disconnected.
Tate leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead. He didn’t do spite, but he still hoped if NSS was behind this, they’d left an ugly trail. Something else to crucify them with, in the upcoming civil case.
“Did you end things yet?” V asked.
Of course. She was back on the conversation from lunch last week with Lys.
The last person he needed to be thinking about, and the one name constantly lingering at the back of his mind.
Acknowledging her name sent a flood of memories through his thoughts, teasing him.
He straightened, and met her gaze. “Pretty sure it’s none of your business. But yes.”
“No need to get defensive. I just missed seeing you both at the party on Monday.” She said it so simply, as if it were the most innocent question ever.
“I couldn’t tell you where she was.” He couldn’t say her name. Her voice in his head was already wreaking havoc on his senses. And it was true, he didn’t know where she’d gone after she left the country club, though he still wished he could have gone with her.
Instead of replying, V looked over his shoulder, eyes focusing on something behind him.
Seconds later, Mikki claimed the chair next to him. “It’s not what you think, but it is a good thing you had me look. Someone is screwing with your config, and they did it again today. Your bandwidth has been severely limited.”
That didn’t make sense. Tate mulled over the comment. “Someone is intentionally going in there and slowing my sites down. Over and over?”
Mikki nodded. “They’ve tweaked the work we did over the weekend, not as thoroughly as before, but someone’s restricted access for your clients.”
“Fantastic.” Sarcasm dripped from Tate’s voice. “Like, who?”
Mikki quirked her mouth to the side, and shrugged. “One of Jared’s people. Whoever’s got access to your servers, which is all of them. I’d ask if you pissed off upper management, but since you are…”
Could Marge be choking his sites, to force the crowdfunding site to fail? The thought surged into Tate’s head, sounding absolutely ludicrous. This was still business, and even if she didn’t like the idea, it was still surging toward successful, despite the problems.
“Do you want more?” Mikki asked.
V looked at Tate, apology in her eyes. “I’m sorry. After hours, maybe, but she’s got her own work to do.”
“I get it; it’s fine. Thanks for looking.” Tate sank lower in his seat. He needed to get to the bottom of this.
The moment Mikki was gone, V turned back to Tate. “Look, I know Alyssia is everyone’s favorite baby sister. But this is business, and you need to consider shutting her down.”
Tate was getting sick of hearing that. “It’s not just business.” The retort came out sharper than he intended. He needed to dial it back.
“It should be.”
Tate rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I mean. She’s running an animal shelter, and they do good things. This isn’t just about a bottom line. What about all those animals?”
“I’m not heartless.” Vivian’s expression softened. “I’ll write them a check. I’m surprised you haven’t done the same.”
“She won’t take my money. I’d fund the entire operation if I could.”
Vivian raised her brows. “Strictly for the puppies?”
“Of course.”
“If she won’t take a perfectly legitimate donation, maybe Alyssia’s the problem. I hate to say that, and I know you don’t want to hear it. But if you do this emotionally, people are going to get fucked.”
Tate dug his fingers into his leg, and squeezed in frustration. V was wrong. He knew it. He just couldn’t figure out what was right.