3. Kamaya
CHAPTER 3
Kamaya
Monday morning came entirely too quickly after the whirlwind weekend. Weddings were always nice, romantic affairs, although it always made me melancholy watching others find happiness I doubted I’d ever experience. It sucks being genuinely happy for a couple pledging to spend their lives together when you didn’t have one iota of prospects.
I was still thinking about that awkward moment waking up in Maxwell’s arms and not wanting to leave. That was strange, right? Neither of us moved away quickly enough.
We were lingering .
Almost like subconsciously we both wanted to remain in each other’s embrace.
I knew that couldn’t be right. Max and I had never crossed that line in the almost two years we’d known each other. Certainly, if you were interested in someone, it wouldn’t take that long to realize it. Men who wanted out of the friendzone wouldn’t take that long to let their feelings be known. Everyone always says after they’ve met their person, they knew right away.
No, it was the open bar and way too many tequila shots the night of Ava and Brandon’s wedding. Except Maxwell held his liquor well. I’d never seen him tipsy before and he always remained composed no matter the situation. It’s what made him a great protection agent and my most even-keeled friend.
Max and I were just friends. Besides, being like a mentor in our field, he was one of the only men I felt wholly comfortable and safe around. I couldn’t jeopardize that after one night. Max was as far from relationship material as any man could get.
Setting my stuff down at my desk, I boot up my laptop and tablet for the day. I’m the first in the office, per usual. The rising summer sunshine illuminates the large office windows overlooking midtown Manhattan.
Months before Brandon left, he’d given me a key to open the office up since I “even beat him there.” The people traffic during the weekday slowed me down too much, and I was excited to get started on this assignment.
Admittedly, I’d never taken an interest in the Financial Journal before this assignment. Markets, stocks, and finance-related news bored me to tears. Other than Zach, my interest in the publication was nonexistent. With the laptop on and ready to go, I entered my password and made my way over to the Financial Journal website.
I was provided a guest log in in the email I received from Zach, but before entering the username and password credentials, I stopped to review the paywall.
Standard as far as I could tell. An article I clicked on went blurry behind the pop-up asking me to log in before continuing. Whoever was behind the paywall leak must have somehow been able to code duplicate guest passes without duplicate log ins being detected.
The person, or persons, we were looking for was no amateur. Even I was having a tough time figuring out how they could have done it. I tried clicking past the paywall, but of course it wasn’t budging. These college students must have a supplier granting them access to the site. The IP address only provided the school where they logged in from, but who was the source?
A mole at the FJ ?
What could they be gaining by doing such a thing? Technically, they were depriving the newspaper of potential business by providing access for free. The publication would lose out on thousands of revenue, since they depended on large office staffs and colleges for their site traffic.
Revenge was a great motivator for many things , I thought. Possibly fraud was the catalyst too.
“Hard at work already, I see.” Maxwell’s deep baritone sounds dangerously close to my ear, his warm breath tickling the hairs.
“You scared me,” I say, glancing to my right to see him. I put a hand over my heart that’s suddenly beating fast.
Surely, it was only because I was startled and had nothing to do with the close proximity of Max.
“What are you working on?” Max asks, pulling up a chair beside me, hovering so close that I can feel the warmth of his body next to mine. He smells good.
Really good. Like a spicy cologne but not overpowering. A scent that drew me in.
I lean back in my chair, away from him, as his eyebrows shoot up and he waits for my answer.
Get a grip, girl.
“I wanted to check out how the paywall normally operated on the Financial Journal website before entering the guest password Zach provided.”
Did Maxwell just stiffen at the mention of Zach?
“Zach, of course,” Maxwell answers. “So, what have you found so far?”
I begin explaining how the paywall is a standard one that anyone would come across on most news sites or social media and requires a log in to view content. I try clicking around the dialogue box to show him how, for the average person, it’s impossible to get past the paywall.
“So what are you really thinking about all this? I can see the wheels turning,” he quips before taking a sip of his coffee.
“The crime just doesn’t make sense. If it is a hacker or someone beating the paywall…well, why? If you can hack into the FJ system, then you could hack into bank accounts or wipe out some student loans. Not that I’m in support of unethical hacking, but why use those skills to just read some news articles?”
Max chuckled. “You’ve got a point. The crime seems so random.”
“Yes! That’s exactly it. I keep thinking it is all very random. Unless it’s some kind of vendetta, since whoever is doing this knows that the journal is losing money by letting non-subscribers have access to the site.”
Max is quiet for a moment, contemplating my words. “There’s more to this. I think we should head downstairs and speak with some employees of Financial Journal .”
My smile grows. “That’s an excellent idea! Someone must know more than Cecily and Zach, since a lot of times employees may not allow their bosses to be privy to everything going on.”
“Exactly,” Max says, rising and heading towards his desk.
“Let’s give it another hour. Let the employee’s settle in, and then we can make our way down there.”
Maxwell gives a mock salute. “You got it, boss.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Boss? Since when have you ever called me that?”
Maxwell puts his hands up in mock surrender. “This assignment is all yours. You, Kamaya, are calling all the shots.”
Brandon chose me to take the assignment because of the cybercrime they were experiencing, but it felt nice to hear I am in charge of something for once. No other area of my life appeared to be in total control. Especially not my love life.
“I like that. Boss. For now though, it’s still just Kam,” I say, delighting too much in his answering smile.
We made our way down to FJ offices by 8:30. Perfect timing because the spacious office was now a flurry of activity. Conversations around conference tables and Zoom calls and presentations were already commencing.
I texted Zach moments ago, and he advised that Maxwell and I could speak with Katie Lucas in his absence. Apparently, Cecily only came in the office two days a week and Zach often accompanied his subordinates to presentations and sales pitches throughout the tri-state area.
As we approach the reception desk of Financial Journal , Max leans down to whisper in my ear. “It’s very fancy here on the lower floor.”
I understood his meaning. The entire office was pristine and nearly stark white, only offset by the light wood desks. It seemed as if we’d entered the Apple Genius store instead of an office.
“Extremely bougie,” I whisper back.
We approach the reception desk to see a young, smiling woman. “Hello, who are you here to see?”
“Kamaya and Maxwell. We’re with Tri-State Security. We were supposed to meet with Zach, but he advised us to speak with Katie Lucas instead. She should be expecting us.”
After a moment of furious typing, the young woman looks up from her screen. “Katie will be over in a moment to let you in.”
“Thanks,” I say, turning towards the door where Katie should be appearing. I notice that, like our office, the walls are glass. No one could enter without swiping their badge for admittance. Unlike the glass surrounding our office, this one didn’t appear to have bulletproof reinforcements.
“Here she is.”
Max and I look over to see a spritely blonde woman holding the door open for us.
“You’re prompt!” Katie says by way of greeting. “Zach made it seem like you’d be here later.”
“We like to get to work as early as possible,” I say. “Maxwell and I just wanted to ask you some questions and won’t take up too much of your time.”
“Oh, it’s no bother!” she exclaims, very chipper, too eager to talk to us. “Let’s head over to Central Park so we can talk privately,” she says.
“Central Park?” Maxwell questions.
“Oh! Right.” Katie face-palms, laughing at herself. “I’m so used to calling the big conference room Central Park. See, all our meeting rooms are named after city landmarks. The conference room across the hall is Herald Square. Isn’t that neat?”
Maxwell and I exchange a glance, and I offer a nervous chuckle. Katie Lucas was…out there. Now I was doubting whether she’d be of much help.
Once the three of us were seated, Katie began speaking energetically. “I’m so glad you two were hired to help us with this. B2B, that is business to business, depends on large accounts too much for our content to be accessed for free.”
“What exactly is your role or position with Financial Journal ?”
“I am the junior B2B sales manager, also known as Zach’s second in command.”
Katie twirls her wedding band around her thin fingers, waiting for the next question.
“As the sales manager, what exactly does your role entail?”
Katie scoots the wheeled desk chair closer before answering. “I’m in charge of a team of seven sales associates who go out to large-scale companies such as colleges, universities, and financial institutions to advise them on a group subscription to FJ .”
Max nods his head, encouraging me to proceed. “So, are you in charge of who gets access to the group subscriptions?”
“I make the approval of what kind of institutions are…worthy, I’ll say, for a subscription to Financial Journal . Once we have generated leads, I delegate my team to go out and pitch a group subscription. Once they secure the sale, I make final approval of the amount of approved accounts and the cost, of course, and then access is granted to those employees or students who fall under that institution’s group subscription.”
“Understood,” I say. “When did you start noticing that users outside that approved list had access to the FJ ?”
Katie blows air from between her lips, twining the ring faster. “I didn’t. I was notified by IT that an IP address from City University, where we don’t have any business ties, was using the site through a log in that IT didn’t recognize.”
“What happened next?”
“I let Zach know once he returned from a trip to Yale, where he was trying to secure an account with their School of Business. He advised me not to worry about it and that he and Cecily would take care of it.”
Maxwell and I exchange glances again. We seemed to do that more and more lately. We’re able to communicate without uttering a word.
“Can you say with absolute certainty that no one on your team might have been tempted to set up a group account for someone, a friend maybe, and that’s how these non-subscribers were able to obtain access?”
“I’m certain no one from my team is part of this leak. In fact, no one working here at FJ would do such a thing, knowing how important subscriptions are to keep us going.”
This was the first time since meeting Katie that her smiling, happy-go-lucky veneer cracked. She appeared incensed at the question.
“It’s alright. I believe you,” I say, hoping to placate her. I reach into my blazer pocket and extract a business card. “If you can think of anything else, please let me know.”
“Or me,” Maxwell says, reaching to extract his own card. A figure moving past the glass-walled conference room catches my eye. The young man looks to be in his late twenties, and he slows down to watch the three of us.
When his gaze meets mine, he quickly averts his eyes and moves toward a desk adjacent to the conference room.
“Will do,” Katie says, taking the cards and sliding them into her pocket.
“We’ll see ourselves out,” Max says and the three of us exit the conference room, with Katie moving in the opposite direction. Max and I begin our walk back to the reception area when the man I saw a few moments ago speaks up.
“Are you two here about the security leak?”
Maxwell positions himself between the guy and me.
“Who’s asking?” Maxwell questions.
“Jacob Reyes,” the young man answers in a low voice, glancing around the open office. Everyone seems preoccupied with what they are doing. There are enough people conversing that our conversation seemingly goes largely unnoticed in the back corner of the office.
“I’m the new head of IT. I was the one who notified them about what was going on.”
I step past Maxwell just short of Jacob. “What caught your attention?”
“There’s millions of individual subscribers, so it’s hard to keep track of what each person is doing. Almost everyone shares passwords. What caught my attention is the fact that every week we have group subscription log ins from exactly fifteen hundred accounts, and that week an extra kept popping up and couldn’t be traced to an account on record. I let my former boss know.”
Max glances at me before continuing. “Who is your former boss?”
Jacob lowers his voice. “Franco DiLaurentis. He was fired. Once he started talking about what was going on, a few days passed, and next thing I know, I’m getting promoted.”
Zach and Cecily never mentioned Franco by name in the preliminary meeting. They’d only advised that it had been an employee who alerted them.
“Could you tell us—” Before I could finish my thought, Jacob shook his head.
“I don’t want to get too involved in any of this. I figured no one had mentioned Franco, and I see I was right.”
Before Max and I could respond, a voice piped up from a few rows away. “Hey, Jacob, can you please help with the laptop adapter? I’m trying to connect my laptop to my monitor.”
“Be right over, Rachel,” he calls over to the woman. Turning back to us, he stands up. “I’ve got to go.”
“If you can think of anything else, let us know,” Maxwell says, extending his hand to pass his card to Jacob.
Jacob steps back out of reach and waves the business card away. “Like I said, I don’t want to be involved. I got a good gig here. Just look into Franco DiLaurentis.”
With that, he was gone. Our biggest breakthrough so far was refusing to talk any further.
“Let’s get out of here,” Maxwell says, putting his hand at the small of my back and ushering us though the exit.
Alone at the elevator bank, Maxwell turns to me. “What did you think of the journal employees?”
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear before answering. “I think that office has a lot of secrets—more than Cecily and Zach can probably imagine.”
Maxwell nods. “With the exception of our workplace, I know most have secrets. Employees covering up bad behavior of their own or bad behavior of their coworkers.”
“Exactly,” I answer, passing him to step into the elevator first. Maxwell falls into step behind me. “What we have to figure out now is what is being covered up and by who.”
“I think it may start with this Franco.”