Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
ELIJAH
“ Y ou can’t be,” I tell her, folding my arms over my chest.
She points to one of the screens in front of her, and I see her logged onto a system, my bloody system.
I freeze.
What the fuck! This is not good.
As if sensing my rising panic, Pen looks over her shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I’ll fix it. Believe me, it wasn’t easy. It took me over four hours. I only broke through just before you arrived.” Pen says before returning her attention to the screen.
“Pen,” I say, my voice elevating in both pitch and volume.
Pen stops and pivots to face me. Her eyes take in my expression and soften.
She reaches forward and grips my forearm.
“I have mad skills and the equipment to do this. I’m not trying to show you up or your company. When I leave I’ll make sure even I can’t get in.”
I shoot her a look, and she shrugs.
“Remember, I helped to design the original code.”
“That was over fifteen years ago. Not much is the same,” I huff, sinking down into the chair next to her. “Stop trying to make me feel better. You just hacked your way past a firewall I state can’t be hacked. Of course, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Fine, be pissed, but can you park it for the next few hours? We need to solve one problem at a time, and I think identifying what this mystery code and person are up to probably trumps your damaged ego.”
“It’s got nothing to do with my ego.”
Pen turns her head and rolls her eyes.
“As I said before, it’s taken me hours to get in. We need to do what we are here to do, and then we can fix your exposure. Believe me, it wasn’t easy to find, and I nearly called to tell you we were going to have to sneak into the office.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I let her return her attention to the screens in front of us.
I watch as Pen’s fingers fly over the keyboard.
Memories of late nights spent coding, of celebrating problems solved.
She lets out a little grunt, her brows furrowed.
I know I’m being petty, but the fact is she broke through my firewall, a firewall I’ve prided myself on, and sold as being hacker-proof. If Pen can get through, then who is to say someone else can’t? They clearly have. Someone has changed my code. I’m still struggling to believe it could be anyone on the inside.
Who is this woman? I’m not sure I recognise her anymore.
I sit and watch her work, and for the first time in months, I feel energised. Her confidence is galling, but then it always was. I want to know more about her, and my curiosity has been awakened.
She picks up her necklace and captures it between her lips, sliding her pendant back and forward. She sucks it into her mouth when she needs two hands.
Shit, I am staring!
I turn to one of the three screens in front of me and start scrolling through the logs I brought with me on a flash drive.
“What have you looked for?” Pen asks, her eyes never leaving the screen.
“I scrolled through. Some of the code is dead, dummy code. Goes nowhere and does nothing. There are definitely some lines that call to other code. It was taking me time to track them down and link them.”
“Do you have an example?”
I pull up one of the lines of code I identified.
She looks across and begins tapping away again.
If she has knowledge of how this was carried out, maybe she can help identify the pattern.
“I’m writing a program to filter and group the changes. See if there are any patterns or links.”
Her fingers continue to type as she speaks.
“When did you last make actual code changes?” she asks.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “About five years ago.”
Pen stops. I sense her gaze on me.
“What?” I ask, looking up.
“I’m surprised. You always loved coding.”
I shrug.
But my stomach tightens in defensiveness. It’s true what Pen says. I loved coding when she and I were in the lab together. She made me want to be better, challenged me. It was always that way with us. She filled that competitive streak I have. After our initial spat, our partnership took off. I was determined to prove to her she was wrong about me. I wasn’t some lazy, rich kid. Even though it meant I was working double time in the beginning.
It was why, when my Olympic dream ended, I hadn’t felt like my world had come crashing down. She had given me another focus, something else to fall back on. By the time we reached our final year, I wanted Pen by my side. Wanted her as my business partner. We had big plans for the future until one day she walked away.
“I did. I do. However, being CEO, the paperwork and the politics have taken precedence. I admit I’m a little rusty. My day-to-day job is more about the management.” I stare at her. “Are you telling me you’re still coding?”
Pen turns and looks at me, grinning.
“Nothing would stop me coding. It’s why my company hasn’t expanded to the size of yours. I’m a control freak—you should remember that.”
Her eyes sparkle with amusement, and the feeling is almost electrical when our eyes meet. I find myself smiling in response.
“You were. I assumed you let go of the reins a little.”
She lets out a deep sigh.
“It’s something I’m going to have to learn to do. Especially when Kris and I have children. I can’t keep up my current rate of work, lifestyle, and raise a family. It wouldn’t be fair.”
My heart stops as her words sink in. For a moment, I’d got lost in the moment. Forgot Pen is about to get married, and of course, she’s thinking of having children with Kris. Pressure builds in my chest, and bile burns the back of my throat.
“You want children?” The words sound stupid as soon as they leave my mouth.
“You sound surprised.” Pen’s gaze softens as it moves to mine. “I guess it’s catching. Gabriel and Leah have Callum. You and Darra have Lottie, not to mention some of my other friends. They’ve all settled down and are starting families. In striving to build my business, I’ve put that part of my life on hold. Let my personal life slide.” She shrugs and lets out a sigh. “I’m not getting any younger. As a woman, I’m unfortunately bound by my biological clock, and I don’t want to be too old to enjoy a child or children. Like your mum, I’d prefer not to have them raised by a team of nannies.”
I get it, however much it irks me. Pen’s the same age as my sister Kat. A year older than Leah. It’s the exact reason Leah and Gabriel got together.
“None of us are getting any younger,” I admit.
Some days, I wonder where the time has gone. I was twenty-three when I married Darra. Lottie arrived a few months later. Finding myself married with a child, I smothered my own wants and dreams. Shut out the rest of the world, concentrating instead on building a future for my new wife and daughter.
Pen finally hits return and leans back, stretching out her back, her spine making a satisfying crack.
“What now?” I say when she gets up and moves away.
“Now we wait for my program to run and for Tiffany to collate the parameters I have set her.”
I sit back and stare at her.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Penelope Dawson?”
Pen chuckles, the sound making my stomach flutter.
“I’ve always had mad skills. You’re simply unaware of half of them.” She shrugs, not expanding, but there is no missing the sass in her tone. “Look, the program is going to take a while. Let’s get some dinner ordered in. I can’t work on an empty stomach.”
That’s a lie. I used to remind Pen to eat all the time. Because she was so focused on her work, she forgot that her body and brain needed fuel. Her near collapse after a gruelling night prompted me to begin ordering takeaway for late nights.
“But don’t we need to wait until Tiffany does her thing?”
Pen taps her smartwatch. “She’ll notify me as soon as it’s complete.”
“Now you’re just trying to pacify me,” I grumble.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Yes.”
“Or maybe I’ve simply learned to take better care of myself,” she says.
My chest aches. It’s true. Fifteen years is a long time. We’re no longer those two carefree young adults. Now, we both run multi-million-pound empires.
“Come on,” she says, moving towards the door. “I’m starving. There’s nothing we can do here. Let’s order a takeaway.”
I stand up. I should be annoyed. I’ve stood here watching her, an outsider break through my company firewall and rummage through my code. But watching Pen at work has stolen my breath. Her skills are off the charts. As a fellow programmer, I can appreciate that. If I’m honest, I’m not sure what I’d do without her. I realise I trust Pen. My brothers and sister trust her, so instead of bitching and moaning, I take her lead and follow her back upstairs. Yet I know, the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach is more than simple hunger.