19. West
CHAPTER 19
WEST
It’s fun watching the wheels spin around in Sydney’s mind. The amount of pity in her eyes is amazing. She must think I sustain myself by only eating raw lettuce. She looks positively heartbroken for me, and it almost makes me laugh.
I’m tempted to tell her that being celiac has been a part of most of my life, so it feels normal. I don’t feel like I’m lacking. Just like people who have an allergic reaction to peanut butter probably never fantasize about peanut butter and jelly.
Or maybe they do. Who am I to judge?
“I brought my laptop.”
I lay my satchel on the table and pull the computer out of the bag. “Want me to try to take a crack at it real quick?”
Her face brightens immediately. “Yes, definitely. I’ll even raise your pay to eleven percent.”
“You’ll have to be okay with fifty-one percent.”
Tap, tap, tap . She thumps her index finger on the table as she tries to give me a steely look. “We’ll talk about that later. In the meantime, we can crack this thing open.”
“We?”
She laughs nervously. “You. I mean you. I’m just sitting here eating allergy donuts and rooting you on.”
“You also are the one with the flash drive.”
“Oh, so right you are.” She reaches into her pants pocket and retrieves the USB.
I type in my laptop’s password and link to the internet. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
“I can’t believe you’re actually helping me.” She stares at me in awe. “I was thinking not nice things about you just thirty minutes ago.”
“Well, you were probably right. This doesn’t change anything. I’m just curious. It’s a fatal flaw of mine.”
“And I’m sure you have many,” she murmurs quietly as she lifts her coffee cup to her mouth.
I glare at her. “If you’re going to do this, then you need to be equipped with information.”
“Thank you.” She smiles at me, and those green eyes sparkle as she rests her chin in her hand. “I promise I’ll send you a check—for eleven percent—when I find it. Or even better, I’ll hand-deliver cash to you.”
“No, don’t do that. Weird things happen when you’re around.” I hold out my hand, and she places the flash drive in it.
I plug it into the laptop. It takes only a moment to load, but unfortunately, it takes almost thirty minutes to get past their encryption. “Got it.”
Except, it’s only the first layer. Each subsequent file has another password to get past.
And there are about a hundred of them.
I glance up at Sydney, who has her elbows on the table and her chin resting in her hands, looking like she took a little nap. But despite the tired look in her eyes, she’s smiling at me. “You want to be business partners with me.”
“No. I absolutely do not.”
“Yessss. You do. You’re intrigued by the idea of money. By eleven percent.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had any. And it’s fifty-one percent.” I focus my attention back on my laptop and begin reading the names of the files. Some of them are locations. Some of them are simply numbers. Some are people’s names.
“Ha!” She tries to peer over the laptop screen to see what I’m looking at. “The fact that you’re arguing over percentage means you want to go into business with me.”
“Stop breathing on my laptop. You’re fogging up the screen.”
She leans back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. “I’m so sorry. I’ll tell my body to just pause its need for oxygen when I’m around you.”
“Sarcasm only works for cynical people. It sounds ridiculous coming from a cheery person like you.” Not true at all. A sarcastic Sydney could be one of the funniest things I’ve seen because the delivery of that sarcastic statement is done in a happy tone.
My phone chimes, and I pull it out as I continue looking through the file options.
It’s a text from Fletcher.
Fletcher: You need to get on the road.
I text him back. You were supposed to come get her.
Fletcher: Get out of there.
I glance at my laptop one more time, make sure I’m not going to lock myself out of the file again, then pull out the USB and pass it to Sydney. “We have to go.”
Her face falls. “Is my ride here?”
“No, and I don’t think it’s coming. All I know is we need to get out of here.”
She looks around the restaurant and then glances toward the street. “You don’t suppose they know…”
“Where we are?” I finish for her.
She nods as she stands up, following me toward the door.
“They could just be checking ports. It could be a coincidence. Except, that means I especially need to get my boat out of port. But I can’t risk leaving you here and them finding you.”
Sydney waves goodbye to the baristas as she follows me out of the coffee shop.
I look her straight in the eye. “You’re coming with me, and I don’t want any arguments about it.”