Chapter 7
SAVANNAH
Breathe. It’s just a building. Not a big deal. I can go in. I will go in.
When Ghostline, I mean Hunter Reed, gave me his card, I didn’t know that the address would lead me here. The Godzilla of buildings in Midtown. RHL Solutions.
A quick Google search provided a brief overview of the business and its operations. I considered not taking a less-than-legal approach to accessing the system, but ultimately, I decided that hacking my new employer wouldn’t be a smart move.
Propelling myself forward, I enter RHL Solutions through the revolving door. I keep the wonderment circling my mind from showing on my face.
My vintage combat boots tap on the marble as I walk through the lobby. The crystal chandelier hanging from the elevated ceiling, the marble floors, and the opulent murals almost seem ostentatious, but it works. It screams money and sophistication.
I stop in front of the reception desk, holding a mousy-looking woman with a low-cut shirt, red lips, and manicured nails. The badge on her chest reads, “Blair.”
“Welcome to RHL,” she says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here for a meeting with Hunter Reed,” I respond confidently, even though I feel about a million miles away from confidence.
Blair turns her nose up at me as if I just told her that she has split ends. “Name?”
What name do I give? My real one or my hacker one?
Hunter only knows my hacker name, so go with that, I guess. But what if he found out my real name, and that’s what’s on the calendar in front of Blair? I don’t want to seem like a random person off the street trying to get a meeting with the head honcho.
The internal indecision is real.
“Abaddon.”
Blair’s face looks unimpressed. “I don’t have an Abaddon on Mr. Reed’s schedule. Sorry. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
My stomach flips, embarrassment mixed with horror crushes me. “He asked me to meet him here,” I attest.
“That’s what they all say,” she shoots back.
I feel like I’m free-falling down a never-ending mine shaft. “He offered me a job.”
“I’m sure he did.” Blair frowns and nods with mock sympathy. “Please, leave before I have to call security.”
My lips pinch. “But he gave me his card and everything.”
Blair reaches for the corded phone next to her. “That’s nice, but—”
“Miss Keats,” a shrill voice keens.
Blair startles in her seat, dropping the receiver and spinning in her chair toward the thunder. “Mr. Kipling. Good morning.”
Heels click across the floor as a woman with rigid posture and sharp, aristocratic features makes her way to us. Her smile is thin and strategic, and her eyes are calculating.
“You know I’m to be informed when new hires arrive.” Her face seems friendly, but her tone sounds like a threat.
“Yes, ma’am,” Blair replies with downcast eyes.
“Don’t make the same mistake twice,” she bites, then turns to me. “Hello, I’m Clara Kipling, head of Human Resources. You must be Savannah Foster.”
How does she know my name?
It occurs to me that I should ask, but I get the feeling that any sliver of information in this woman’s hands can be turned into a weapon.
“That’s me,” I confirm.
“If you’ll come with me, please. I have paperwork I need you to fill out.” She walks away without waiting to make sure I’m following her.
Clara leads me to a set of six elevators and presses the button. I notice another elevator off to the side that no one seems to use, and I assume it’s for maintenance.
We go up to the fourth floor and into her office. The only word I can think of to describe the space is tidy. Everything has its place, and I doubt I’ll find a speck of dust anywhere.
Clara sits in her chair and pulls out some papers. “Let’s go over this, shall we?”
My lips twist into a frown as I sit down in a chair that looks like it should be comfortable but offers no such thing.
“First and last name,” Clara reads.
She knows my name, so why is she asking?
I keep my spine ramrod straight. “Savannah Foster.”
“Employment history?”
“I can fill this out myself,” I offer.
“Nonsense,” she refutes.
“I currently work at a coffee shop, Mocha Lisa, as a barista,” I begin as my mind tries to remember all the jobs I’ve had over the years.
Clara snorts as she fills in my answer. “A barista?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “I’ve arranged things with my boss so my job there won’t interfere with my work here. I’ve also worked at—”
Clara doesn’t let me tell her the list of the places I’ve worked. “Education.”
“I have a high school diploma from—”
“That’s it?” She interrupts with a condescending smile on her face.
“Well, I—”
“Clara,” a deep baritone voice interrupts our conversation—the worst onboarding interview of my life.
Hunter walks with a power that commands attention. His presence cannot be ignored.
It’s more tempting than I’ll ever let him know.
The way he moves into the room makes him seem like a threat. He stalks into the office until he’s standing next to me. “I’m sure you were about to call and inform me that Miss Foster had arrived.”
Hunter’s subtle scolding stirs a different feeling in my belly, erasing the mounting anxiety.
“Of course.” Clara’s forced smile looks like it hurts. The way her eyes appreciate his body paint a whole new picture of the dynamic I’ve walked into.
“Good.” Hunter nods to Clara, then acknowledges me. “Miss Foster, follow me.”
I’ll never admit that the commanding tone in his voice is enticing. I want to defy him just to see what he’ll do. But I’d rather be anywhere but here, so I don’t linger with Clara a moment longer.
My eyes slide down Hunter’s back, admiring the way his shirt accentuates muscles in his back, but not in an obvious way. My focus accidentally slips further down, landing on his backside.
I’ve never stared at a man’s butt before, but that’s the situation as it currently stands, and as it turns out, Hunter has a nice one.
He leads me to the elevator I assumed was for maintenance. He sets his hand on a little screen on the wall, then bends slightly, placing his face right in front of it. A green light radiates from the screen, moving over his eye, and the elevator doors open.
“Overkill?” I snort as I follow him inside.
Hunter faces forward as the doors close. “I’ve been thinking about increasing the security.”
“Are you paranoid or something?” I try to make my voice sound teasing.
I’m prying. He doesn’t owe me any answers, but I’m curious about this man. He’s been on my mind almost too much.
He and two others.
“RHL has enemies. I have enemies. And we have many high-profile clients. One can never be too careful.” Hunter’s face is stoic.
Either the threats are that serious, or he just takes them seriously. However, I don’t like the way this conversation has taken on a grave tone.
So, of course, I try to make it lighter. “If you say so.”
And it works.
The faintest of smiles turns the corner of Hunter’s mouth. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”
“So does your head of HR,” I retort.
“She’s efficient.” Hunter shrugs.
“And horny,” I grumble as I fold my arms in front of my chest.
I don’t like him defending her. It grates against my nerves.
Another small smile, but this one is at my expense. “Jealousy doesn’t become you, Savannah Foster.”
“I’m not jealous,” I deny petulantly. All I’m missing is a foot stomp to complete the look. Then another thought occurs to me. “How do you know my name?”
He’s deliberately used my real name twice now.
Hunter tilts his head coolly. “Wasn’t hard to find.”
My neck cranes my head to face him as my words come out with a bite. “It should have been.”
“Well, it wasn’t,” he counters. The elevator dings, and Hunter steps out of the small box as the doors slide apart, not even waiting for them to open all the way. “Follow me.”
I throw my arms up, incensed. “Where else am I going to go? I’m basically locked in a tower.”
He says to me over his shoulder. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“I’ll be whatever I want to be,” I grouse under my breath and scurry after him. “Where are we going?”
He doesn’t reply as he leads me across a lobby a fraction of the size of the one on the first floor. We turn down a bare hallway with high ceilings and bright LED lights.
Hunter waves to the door in front of us, grasping the handle. “This is my office. I’ve acquired everything you’ll need for the task you’ve been assigned.”
As Hunter opens the door, letting me through, I begin what I want to be the lecture of a lifetime. “Just because you’re paying me, doesn’t mean you can boss me around. I’m a person with feelings. And I—” The rest of my rebuke gets stuck in my throat.
My eyes widen as the attention of two men zeroes in on little old me.
Rory and Luke.
“Savannah?” They question simultaneously as if they share a brain.
Rory stands with a small glass containing a dark liquid in his hand, and his mouth hangs open. His tie is loose around his neck, and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone.
Luke sits on a small couch a few feet from Rory with a laptop open in front of him and thick black rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His brows are high, conveying the surprise we all feel.
They’re even sexier than I remember, and I’m internally cursing them for it.
“Ah.” Hunter claps his hands together, ending the shocking trance. “You know each other. Perfect. That means introductions won’t be necessary.” Stepping around me, he disregards the blanket of discomfort that has swathed the room.
Hunter goes to the cart by Rory and pours himself a drink.
Rory sets his glass down on a cart, a little too vigorously, and takes a step forward. “What’s going on here?”
“Savannah is the third party I hired,” Hunter answers, then takes a sip from his glass.
Luke points to me. “You’re Abaddon?”
This is not a conversation I can handle at the moment. I don’t want to think about what the implications of all of them being friends could mean. Avoidance and denial never helped anyone, but they’re my best friends right now.
“Mhmm,” I confirm, gathering the fake confidence I had displayed with Blair. “Well, if you don’t mind, I need to get to work.”
I stride to the conference table, covered in the items I assume Hunter said he obtained for me. Slipping my bag off my shoulder, I take the seat furthest from the three of them and pull out my own laptop.
Someone slides into the chair next to me, but I refuse to acknowledge them. An ocean spray musk softens my shoulders marginally, indicating who occupies the space beside me. He leans his face close to mine, but I keep my eyes forward on my blank screen.
“We’ll talk about this later, but for now, you need to let us explain what you’re doing here before you ‘get to work,’” Luke says to me in hushed tones. His warm breath brushes against my skin, and it takes everything in me not to clench my thighs.
My response is repetitive but effective. “Mhmm.”
This I can do. I can talk computers and turn away from the jumbling feelings swirling around in my head.
Rory and Hunter join us at the conference table, settling in the seats across from Luke and me.
Hunter takes the lead on explaining the situation.
“We’ve had a breach in security. Someone has managed to get through our firewall, but we can’t determine where.
There’s no trace they were ever in our system, but we know they were.
There have been several incidents where a client’s system shuts down. ”
“So, you need me to search for the access point and build up your defenses,” I conclude.
Rory dips his head in confirmation. “Yes, but wait on the second part.”
“Wait?” I grimace.
“We’re doing a honeypot-tarpit,” Rory explains.
That’s actually genius.
“Got it,” I affirm. “Is there a timeline on this?”
“As soon as possible,” Hunter interjects.
I nod my head.
“Excellent.” Hunter claps his hands again and rises to his feet. “Luke will get you access to our systems, then you should be able to get started.”
Hunter and Rory walk away without another word, and Luke turns my laptop toward him to do as Hunter instructed.
His fingers brush against the back of my hand, sending a shiver through my body, but neither of us comments on it.
I know I can do this.
But I don’t know if I can handle being around these three enticing men every day.
My panties won’t survive it.