Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
KENSINGTON, TEXAS
The belief associated with having regular family dinners is grounded in research on the physical, mental and emotional benefits of regular family meals.
Sometimes, it can cause more mental anguish than it’s worth.
—Viego Martinez, Celebrity Blogger
“What if—” Sam starts.
“It won’t work.” Leanne shuts him down.
“The code is right,” he argues.
“I’m not saying it isn’t. I’m saying we’re missing something.” Frustration fills Leanne’s voice.
Just then my actual office phone rings. Reaching over, I grab it, “Yeah?”
“Son?” My father’s voice comes out weak. “Hi.”
“Dad. I’m kind of busy at the moment.”
There’s a gasp behind me. Ignoring it, I try to get my father off the line as quickly as I can. “Can I call you later?”
“Of course. Would you be willing to come to dinner this weekend?”
I think about my flight to see Fallon on Friday and tell him, “I’ll be out of town.”
Defeat fills his voice. “Oh. I see.”
I hate I feel the bonds of my childhood with this man who almost ruined my sister’s life—a life where she’s ecstatically happy with the man she should always have been with. “Is there anything else?”
“I’d love to see you, Ethan.”
The last time I saw Fallon, she told me Helen wasn’t shaking her illness easily. I frown. I don’t want to spend time with my father, but I don’t want regrets knowing since his stroke, he hasn’t been in the best of health. I give in, just a bit. “How about we meet for coffee after I get back from my business trip?”
“I’d like that, son. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll see you soon.” Not waiting for him to say more, I disconnect the call and I turn back to my fellow white hats. I’m about to offer a suggestion when I see Leanne looking at me solemnly through the screen. “What? What is it?”
“Ethan, your father sounds as if he has something he needs to tell you.”
Fury at her judgmental words boils my blood. But before I can say anything, she lifts her hand to stop me from speaking. “I know the whole story from your sister, so don’t feel I’m taking sides. I’m only speaking as a person who knows what it’s like not to have the answers and be left wondering.”
My anger immediately deflates. “Yeah.” Mentally I replay the conversation over and over in my head. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands.
“Ethan?” Now it’s Sam who is butting into my personal business.
“Yeah?”
“Where are you going out of town to?”
“Christ, did you two listen in on the whole conversation?” I growl.
“Well,” Leanne drawls. “Funny you should mention that because we did. By the way, I think you should up your bid for the Atticus project.”
“If you read it, you’ll see I’m not…” Tingles run up my spine, causing the fine hairs on the nape of my neck to lift. I twist my head to the side and my eyes meet Leanne’s. There’s a gleam in hers that can only be achieved when a successful hack has occurred. “How did you get into the bid proposal system?”
Leanne shrugs while Sam clears his throat. “Back to the task at hand. We were missing one component.”
“What’s that?” But something low in my gut tells me I know what it is.
“Someone has to be on the phone with Devil’s Lair on one of the affected IPs. Then we can access what the IP is connecting to—other than their own systems.”
I joke, “So, who is going to be calling the phone sex hotline?”
Leanne says flatly, “Do you think you can out hack me, Ethan? Sam?”
Fuck. “No.”
Leanne hums, “Then better get some hot tea and honey to warm up your vocal cords. You go on in just a few hours. Let’s pop that sex hotline cherry, Ethan. What fantasy are you going to ask to play out first?”
Then, all I hear is her cackling right before disconnecting from the call.