Chapter 7
Luke
Man, I stink.
After pulling weeds, I decided to go for a jog. Since I was already dirty, I figured why not turn myself into a walking biohazard? Luckily, my dog, Korg, loves me whether I’m clean or toxic.
We stop in front of my house after a good thirty-minute run, Korg panting with his tongue hanging out. I swear he’s smiling. Seeing him happy makes my heart swell.
The neighborhood is quiet, one reason I love this place. After living in Chicago and L.A., I’ve had enough of traffic and noise.
My phone rings. I pull it from my joggers, hit the speaker button, and then lay the phone on the grass while I bend down in a stretch.
“What’s up?” I say to Todd. He’s my buddy at Excel. Since I’m a majority investor in MatchAI, he’s been calling me with daily launch stats. “How many new subscribers we got?”
“I have bad news. Two pieces of bad news. Subscribers are squat. And the website is down.”
I stand and wipe my face with my shirt. “Down as in, down for maintenance?”
“No, it’s down as in we have no idea what killed it.”
I look at Korg like he might know why the website crashed, but he’s blissfully unaware. He shakes his body, sending hair floating on subtle air currents, and then he wags his tail for treat time. Smart boy. Treat time always comes after a good run. I gesture toward the house, and he takes off running.
“Cassie and I have the radio segment tomorrow afternoon,” I say as I head up my driveway. “How bad’s it going to look if the website’s down?”
“Bad.”
“We need to get this fixed.”
“Drew and a few others are meeting at Cassie’s office to sort things out.”
“Now?”
“I’m headed that way,” Todd says. “Don’t worry, we’ll get the site back up asap.”
I pause. This could be my opportunity. I could tell her about my monetary investment in her company.
I turn in a full circle, my eyes focused on the branches above, clear my throat and say, “I’m coming.”
“Uh...” Todd says on the other end of the line. “I thought you wanted to be a silent investor.”
“I changed my mind.”
As I walk up the flight of stairs to Cassie’s office, I question my life choices. If I hadn’t had that drunken make-out session with my ex, Rose, no covert operations to win Cassie back would have been necessary. We could have continued along our happy trajectory. Probably would have been married by now.
Instead, I’m a sad puppy with his tail between his legs, returning to the one I spurned and begging for forgiveness.
Yes, cheating on the woman you love seems like an asinine thing to do. It was. It is. There’s no excuse for it. I’m what some women might call, a pig. Or I was. I like to think I’ve morphed into a Highland cow. What woman doesn’t love all that fluff?
After my first date with Cassie, I decided my cheating days were over. And they were until Rose came to my house with a box of Franzia Cabernet Sauvignon. She claimed the wine was for her because she was nursing a bad breakup and just needed a shoulder to cry on, metaphorically.
I should have suspected something was amiss by her outfit: a tube top and a pair of those expensive workout leggings that cinch up the back, leaving nothing to the imagination. But she wore that kind of thing when we were dating, so I guess I gave it a pass.
The evening started with her on the loveseat and me on the couch. Her drinking a couple glasses of wine while I watched. It was innocent. Until—
I don’t mean to be mean, but if you’ve ever listened to a woman rehash a failed relationship—I mean every single detail—it can be a little mind-numbing. By the time she reached the start of year two, I was begging for a little entertainment in the form of fermented grapes.
I remember when she slid over onto my couch, rested her head on my shoulder (no more metaphors), and then pulled down her top. Curse those tube tops. I think I downed a full glass of wine at that point. Big mistake because next thing I knew, we were making out. Thank goodness, when things got too heavy, I had the presence of mind to kick her out of my apartment and toss her empty box of wine after her. But the damage was already done.
To make matters worse, while I was at work the following week, still sulking about my indiscretion, unsure about whether to tell Cassie about it, Jani cornered me in the break room at work. Back then, I rented a small office space for my promotions company. I had several employees including my receptionist, Jani.
Keep in mind, even though I had vowed to remain faithful to Cassie, I still wasn’t above “harmless” flirting. Jani and I harmlessly flirted every day, sending each other the occasional suggestive instant message, joking with each other at her desk after lunch, commenting when one or the other looked especially attractive.
I was in the break room making a cup of coffee. Jani came in. She commented that I hadn’t seemed like myself for several days. She kept pressing and fishing. In hindsight, I realize she hoped Cassie and I had broken up. Instead, she learned (because I finally gave in), that I made out with my ex. She put her hand on my back, did a little “there there” kind of rub. Said, “Oh no, what are you going to do?” like she really cared (she didn’t), and then next thing I know, she tried to kiss me. I intercepted her lips with my hand, fired her, and walked out of the break room.
That evening, Cassie and I were about to have dinner at her place when Jani texted: I understand why you had to fire me after we almost kissed. Things would have gotten too complicated. Now that you’re not my boss, I can say this: I’m up for anything. I mean anything.
I was outside preparing steaks on the grill when the message popped up on my phone. Cassie read it, and that was the beginning of the end. I came clean on both counts. No surprise, Cassie dumped me.
Now I’m headed back into Cassie’s life, a little slice of it at least, once again intent on explaining away my behavior in hopes that she’ll forgive me. Mom was right. I should have just invited Cassie to coffee.
When I enter the office, I’m taken aback by how well Cassie has done for herself. Her office space is modern mixed with rustic, all glass and brick and streamlined furniture. Cassie is propped on a desk talking to Todd and Bethany. Drew is in one of the glass-partitioned conference rooms hunched over his laptop.
When Cassie sees me, her shocked expression quickly hardens into one of confused annoyance. I shrug guiltily and then walk over to the group.
Todd turns. He’s wearing Nike shorts with a blue tank top and a pair of Jordan Lows. His blond hair is oily and swiped off his forehead like he left a sweaty basketball game to dart to Cassie’s office.
“Oh. Hey Luke.” Todd quickly goes into introductions. “Luke, this is Cassie. Cassie, Luke.”
“We’ve met,” I say.
Todd looks confused for a moment, and then realization sends his eyebrows toward the ceiling. “The blind date. I forgot.”
“Yep,” I say. “I was the lucky guinea pig.”
Cassie’s eyes narrow.
“So, I guess I should—I assume she doesn’t know you—” Todd falters.
“Right.” I meet Cassie’s eyes and will her not to go ballistic at my next statement. “She doesn’t know I’m a silent investor in MatchAI.”
“Majority silent investor,” Todd adds.
I watch Cassie’s jaw muscles clench and her lips tighten.
Bethany fluffs her hair and looks from me to Cassie. She’s a full-figured middle-aged woman with gray roots and wide-set eyes that are framed by large, red-rimmed glasses. She can tell something’s up. Todd seems oblivious.
“That’s wonderful,” Cassie says in a tight voice.
I clear my throat. “Since I have a stake in the company, I thought I should be here while we figure out why the site is down.”
“Drew is on the phone with our hosting company,” Bethany says. She crosses her arms in front of her large bust, which is accentuated by a pink and white vertically striped blouse. “We should know something shortly.”
I glance over at Drew. He’s still hunched over, his head nearly touching the keyboard like he’s about to fall asleep. It doesn’t buoy my confidence in him.
“I think I’ll grab some coffee,” Cassie says. “Anybody else want some?”
Todd and Bethany shake their heads.
“I’ll help,” I say.
Cassie eyes me like she wants to say something snarky. Bethany catches the exchange and casts me a questioning look.
“I can make my own coffee,” Cassie says in an unnatural sing-song voice, “but if you insist.”
I follow her into the break room. As soon as we enter, she whips around and lays into me. “What are you doing?” she hisses.
I place my index finger on my lips and gesture to the door. “They can hear,” I mouth.
Cassie’s chest puffs and she clenches her fists. “Do you like hazelnut?” she says a little too loudly. She knows I hate hazelnut coffee.
“Sure,” I say.
She walks over to the sink and turns on the faucet to fill the Keurig’s water reservoir. I join her and she flashes me a look like I’m the spawn of Satan. I might be. I hope not.
“We need to talk,” I whisper, allowing the rushing water to muffle my words.
“You should have told me,” she says before shutting off the faucet with a dramatic Thunk! She walks over to the Keurig, opening the space between us.
I spot an empty coffee grinder near the backsplash and grab it. “Fresh coffee sounds great,” I say loudly, echoing Cassie’s sing-song tone.
When I scoot over to Cassie, she’s already popped the pod into the machine. She presses the ten-ounce button and folds her arms, purposefully angling her back toward me.
I tap her shoulder. “Cassie, let me explain,” I whisper, “I want to come clean.”
She spins toward me, grabs the coffee grinder, and smashes the top. As the machine whirs, she says, “Nothing you say will convince me that you aren’t a complete nutjob. Did you take down my site just so you could meet me here?”
“Of course not. I—”
She releases the pressure on the grinder and the room goes silent. Todd and Bethany are quiet on the other side of the door, giving me the distinct sense that they’re trying to eavesdrop.
I press down on the grinder to fill the room with white noise. “I didn’t take down your site. I’m the majority investor. I wouldn’t sabotage my own investment.”
Cassie drops her arms and clutches the countertop with her right hand. “This isn’t going to work,” Cassie says. “We can’t be business partners.”
“We aren’t partners. I’m just an investor.”
Cassie’s face scrunches in disgust.
I let up on the grinder. We stare at each other in the silence, and then I press down on it again. “I decided to move back to Charleston. It had nothing to do with you. It was a business decision. You know I’ve always been committed to small businesses, and I thought Charleston would be the perfect southern hub.”
Cassie refolds her arms.
“I checked your Instagram account, just to see what you were up to, and you know...see if we might be able to reconnect. I noticed you weren’t wearing your wedding ring, and I called Spence to see what was up. He told me you were recently divorced, and you were starting up a business venture with Excel.”
The realization that our mutual friend Spencer had something to do with my presence in her break room, hits Cassie hard. She covers her face with her hands. I stop the coffee grinder while she regroups.
She lowers her hands and looks up at the ceiling. “Continue,” she whispers.
I slam the coffee grinder. “Todd and I were already connected through LinkedIn, so I called him up and asked him about your company. He sent me the business plan and I thought it was brilliant, so I offered to buy out one of his partner’s shares.
“And then I had Drew add me to your database because I was afraid to ask you out for coffee. And the rest is...unfolding.” I bow and tumble my hands for effect.
Cassie isn’t impressed by my theatrics. She rolls her eyes and turns to grab her hot cup of coffee. I step toward her, so close I can feel her body heat. For some reason, she doesn’t back off. I’m encouraged. And overtaken. Her perfume stirs sensations in me that I’ve worked hard to tamp down ever since we broke up.
I’m older now. Wiser.
I resist my urge to touch her elbow.
“I’m sorry, Cassie,” I whisper. “I did this all wrong. I wanted to reconnect, but I thought you’d reject me.”
Cassie’s expression turns defiant. “You were right. There’s something called boundaries, Luke, and you should learn what that means.”
I retreat a step, consider leaving, but press on the coffee grinder one last time. “I messed up. I messed up bad. I never should have hurt you like I did. If you hate me, I understand. But I still believe in your company, and I intend to stand behind it. This is business, okay? We don’t have to work together. I’m just supplying the funds.”
Cassie looks unconvinced. I don’t wait for her to change her mind. Instead, I head out of the break room and leave her to her coffee.
Cassie
With Luke safely out of sight, I spin toward the cabinets and melt onto the countertop. So many emotions. Conflicting. Jumbled. Anger mixed with excitement mixed with disgust mixed with... Desire? I thump my forehead with the heel of my palm.
First of all, Luke investing in my company, becoming a majority investor—that’s just so many levels of wrong given our history. Second of all, when he stepped in close to me, when I could smell his cologne, it made me want to wander my hand along his bristled jaw. What was that about? The thoughts, my desires, came out of nowhere. When I should have been seething mad at him, I wanted him to step in closer. I wanted his arms around me, his sturdy chest against my cheek, the touch of his fingers along my back.
So untimely. So uninvited.
So...inappropriate.
I am over Luke Curtis. If I could revise the dictionary, I would add a picture next to the word “over.” It would be me leaping over Luke like a sheep jumping over a fence. I’ve jumped over him so many times, hordes of insomniacs have fallen asleep because of me. It’s a contribution to humanity that I’m particularly proud of.
Over. Over. Over. Cassie Sears is over Luke Curtis.
“Um. Cassie?”
I jump up and whirl around. “What!”
Luke’s head is peeking through the door. His expression hints at amusement. This isn’t funny.
“Todd wants some of that fresh coffee,” he says, emphasizing the word fresh.
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll brew another cup.”
Luke gives me the thumbs up and then his head vanishes.
A smile tugs on the corner of my mouth. He always did have a sense of humor. It’s one of the things I loved about him.
Loved.
I did love Luke. Once.
With a sigh, I fumble through the top cabinets for a bag of coffee beans. Luckily there’s a half bag stuffed in a far corner. I have no idea how old it is. Since I don’t even remember putting it up there, this probably won’t be the freshest cup of coffee.
I fire up the coffee pot, brushing off the dust first. Sarah and I prefer the Keurig. It’s quick. No mess. Not as good for the environment, but I save seconds where I can. They’re all valuable.
After the pot is brewed, I pull down a mug and pour.
Luke’s head pops in again. “Cream. No sugar.” He salutes and then disappears.
I was so distracted by my sudden feelings for Luke that the full implications of Luke’s investment in my company didn’t compute. Now they tumble into my head with breathtaking velocity. I steady myself against the counter.
He could demand sexual favors.
If I don’t give him what he wants, he could pull his funds.
He could kill my dreams with a simple phone call.
He could hover, micromanage, force himself into my life.
Wait. He’s already done that.
To say it complicates things is an understatement. Bottom line, I need that money. I need Luke.
I curse.
He orchestrated this. He forced my dependency on him. How conniving. How manipulative. How...generous?
Conniving. Definitely.
My anger swells, eclipsing the split-second physical desires I had for him. He crossed a line and ignored boundaries to get what he wanted. Typical.
I tug the refrigerator door with more force than necessary and grab the coffee creamer. I hope Todd likes his coffee diluted because I accidentally fill the mug to the rim. After emptying some into the sink, I head out of the break room.
Luke, Todd, Bethany, and Drew are huddled around Sarah’s desk. I join the group and hand Todd his mug.
“None for you?” he says.
I look down at my hands. “Oops. I forgot.”
Bethany raises an eyebrow at me.
Todd takes a sip and then says, “Okay, Drew. We’re all here. Lay it out for us.”
Drew claws his fingers through his floppy bangs. He’s a head taller than me and twice as wide. His faded navy T-shirt depicts an evolutionary line of apes ending in a Transformers-like robot choking a human. An unflattering pair of gray joggers covers his bottom half, capped by a pair of worn-out Crocs. He folds his arms over his stomach and leans backward.
“Someone is orchestrating a DoS attack using a botnet,” he says, punctuating each “t” with a puff of air.
He peers down his nose at us while we wait for him to continue.
“What is a DoS attack?” Bethany asks.
“DoS stands for Denial of Service,” Drew says while rolling his eyes. “Or, DDoS, which stands for Distributed Denial of Service.”
“What’s the difference?”
Drew narrows his eyes at Todd. “There is no difference.”
“O...kay...” Todd tries, “What is a botnet?”
“In this case, a botnet,” Drew says, over articulating each “t” again, “is a network of internet-connected computers infected by malware, which are being used to commit said cybercrime, i.e., your DoS attack. The zombies are firing off loops of HTTPS requests that are flooding your server.”
“Zombies?” Luke says. “Like, the zombie apocalypse?”
“Ha ha,” Drew says in a deadpan tone.
I’ve had enough technical babble. I just want to get to the point. “How do we fix it?”
“We don’t do anything. Your hosting company, ServeIt, has to identify the zombies and block their IP addresses one by one.”
“Why did this happen?” I continue to probe.
“Because ServeIt sucks. It took five hours just to get a web admin on the line.”
“You were on the phone for thirty minutes,” Bethany says.
“Time is relative.”
I don’t bother to unpack Drew’s statement. I’m too busy trying to make sense of the situation. Why am I paying out the wazoo for hosting if they can’t protect my app?
“Doesn’t ServeIt have firewalls or security stuff to protect against cyberattacks?” I ask.
“Clearly, they don’t have enough security ‘stuff,’” he says with air quotes. “They can’t even come up with a decent name for their company.”
“Okay, I get it. ServeIt sucks,” I say. “Their name sucks. We can deal with that later. I just want to know when my site will be back up.”
“They have to identify the IPs and then clear the backlog. Estimated delivery time is six hours. But since they don’t have ‘stuff’ in place to protect against botnet attacks, the botmaster could attack again tomorrow. What’s so funny?”
I look over at Luke. He’s covering a smile with his hand. He wipes his mouth. “Can you tell us more about those botnets?”
“Have you heard of Google?” Drew says. “You might want to try it out sometime.”
“All right. Well.” Todd starts jogging in place. “I guess there’s no sense waiting around for six hours.”
“Do you have a game to get back to?” Luke asks.
Todd nods and shoots an imaginary basketball through a hoop. Luke makes a sound like the crowd’s going wild. Bethany and I trade looks.
So much for professionalism. No one is as emotionally invested in my website as I am. That’s okay. I’ve got it under control.
“Drew. Luke,” I demand. “Conference room. Now.”
“Do you need me?” Bethany asks.
“No, I think I got this.”
“Okay. Call me when things are back up.” Bethany grabs her purse and then leans over to give me a light hug.
“I will,” I assure her.
As Bethany and Todd leave, Luke and Drew saunter into the conference room like they know they are about to get scolded. I shut the door behind us for effect.
“Fix it,” I say before they’ve had a chance to sit.
Drew tucks his chin, hiding his eyes behind his flop of hair.
“She knows,” Luke says.
“Knows what? I didn’t—” Drew crosses his legs and leans against the back wall in an awkward Joe Cool pose. “I didn’t do anything.”
Luke grabs the back of a chair and leans over the table. “She knows you added me to the app.”
Drew flips his hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks at me for a moment and then looks at the ceiling.
“I guess I can stop that thousand-dollar bonus, then,” Luke says. “Give me a minute. I’ll call up Loraine and tell her we need to adjust your next paycheck.” Luke grabs his phone out of his back pocket.
“No!” Drew throws out his hand to halt Luke’s phone call.
“You paid him a thousand dollars?” I say, not bothering to tame the shrillness of my voice.
“Not yet,” Luke says. “Should I not?”
“No, you should not.” I stomp over to Luke and grab the phone out of his hand. “Call Loraine and tell her to cancel Drew’s bonus.”
“I was about to and then you ripped my phone out of my hand.”
I toss it back to him and hear a growl erupt from my throat. I’m growling now?
“I did what you asked, Luke,” Drew says. “I added you to the database and made sure Cupid picked you. You owe me one thousand dollars.”
“I never told you to make sure Cupid picked me,” I say.
“You told me you wanted a date with Cassie.”
“I didn’t tell you to cheat the system.”
“My bad. Where’s my money?”
“It was unethical,” I say. “You don’t deserve to be paid.”
“But it’s paying for my trip to the Atlanta My Little Pony Expo.”
Luke and I both squint at Drew. “What?” we say in unison.
Drew tugs on a chair and plops down into it. He slaps his elbows onto the table. “The Atlanta My Little Pony Expo,” he over-enunciates.
“I thought IT guys liked Star Wars, Star Trek, Thor,” Luke says.
“Don’t knock it. My collection is worth seven thousand dollars.”
Luke and I lock eyes for a moment. I feel a tickle in my chest. He sees it in my expression, which makes the sensation worse. It escapes as a laugh, with Luke joining in, the both of us slapping the glass tabletop, crouching to catch our breath, nearly rolling on the floor.
“Not. Cool,” Drew says after we finally quiet down.
I pull out a chair and collapse. I have no idea where that came from. Stress probably. I’m under too much stress. I’m starting to unravel.
Luke always made me laugh. We spent many evenings rolling on the floor, clutching our stomachs over the silliest things.
But this isn’t jokes and laughter time. This is CEO Cassie in charge of everything time.
I catch my breath, straighten my back, and drill my eyes into Drew’s. Back to business. “You stabbed me in the back for some little plastic ponies.”
“My Little Ponies,” Drew says.
“You’re coding my entire app. How am I supposed to trust you now? You could be filling it full of bugs for all I know.”
Drew folds his hands on the table. “I do not write buggy software.”
“You just hack your client’s software for a quick buck.”
Luke pulls out the chair next to me and sits. “It’s my fault. This is all my fault. Don’t blame Drew. He’s the best in the business. Or so I’ve been told.” Luke rolls his eyes.
“What? Do you know something I don’t?” I ask. “Because if Drew is all talk and no show, we can end this now.”
“You screwed with my profile, didn’t you Drew?” Luke asks.
Drew shrugs his right shoulder.
“You made my profile match Cassie’s.”
“Do I get my bonus?” Drew asks.
“Fix it,” I repeat.
“He can’t fix anything,” Luke says. “The site is down.”
“The database is not,” Drew says.
“So, you can fix it?” I ask. “Right now?”
“I’m not sure what difference it makes,” Drew says. “He already got what he wanted.”
I can feel Luke’s eyes on me, but I purse my lips and stare straight ahead.
“The date,” Drew says. “He got a date with you.”
“I know,” I say, my jaw fixed.
“Fine.” Drew slides his laptop over and types into his keyboard for a moment. He hits the Enter key with a definitive, Thwack! “There. I updated Luke’s profile ID and deleted the dummy profile. Next time you go onto the app, his original profile will be there.”
“Thank you.” Wait. Why am I thanking the guy who sold me out for a thousand bucks? “I mean, you should be thanking me that you still have a job.”
Luke stands. “And he does. He thanks you very much. Right, Drew?” He rounds the table and ushers Drew out of his seat.
“Whatever.”
“And you’re going to monitor ServeIt and let Cassie know when her app is back up?” Luke says as he shoos Drew toward the door.
“Who is this guy?” Drew says to me over his shoulder. “I thought you were the CEO.”
“I am. And I’ve got this.” I stand. “Drew, I want an update every thirty minutes. You both can go.”
Luke seems disappointed by the prospect of leaving. Did he expect me to invite him into my apartment and fix him dinner? Laughing with him earlier encouraged him. I should have kept my cool.
But it did feel good to laugh.
I follow them to the exit.
“Don’t forget about our slot with I107 tomorrow,” I say.
“I’ll be there,” Luke answers.
And that’s that. No more funny business. No jokes. No trying to manipulate me into letting him stay. He simply leaves.
And I lock the door behind him.
I can’t sleep. Today’s drama has my brain reeling. The DoS attack. Luke revealing that he’s a majority investor in my company. This business venture could go wrong in so many ways.
I grab my phone off the nightstand and sit up. It’s 3:25. My alarm goes off in less than three hours. Tomorrow is going to be a six-cup coffee day. Six cups is my max, otherwise, my pulse starts racing. I don’t want to give myself a caffeine heart attack.
Drew called me five hours ago to tell me the site was back up. He said it might take a bit for the web traffic to roll in, so I didn’t bother to check my stats. Now that I’ve given it some time, curiosity is killing me.
My eyes bug when I check my subscribers. I’m up to five hundred. Is the botnet creating accounts? I should have asked Drew if such a thing were possible. When I scroll through the new profiles, however, they look legit.
What’s driving the traffic?
I open Instagram and check my engagement. My regular posts aren’t garnering more attention than usual. When I hop over to my Reels, things start to click. The Reel I filmed with Luke on our blind date has over fifty thousand views, with a thousand likes and three hundred comments.
OMG, you guys are sooo cute together.
You two belong in Hollywood.
I need Cupid!!
What’s the verdict? Are you soulmates?
Keep us posted. I want to know how this ends.
After reading all the comments, my head feels like a sixteen-pound bowling ball. I catch it with my hands. Apparently, I don’t need to swing naked from the rafters to get attention, I just have to star on Instagram next to my “soulmate,” the guy who’s funding my business, who could pull the plug at any moment.
I groan. Curse Luke and his good looks and charisma, with his never-give-up attitude and his mountains of money. I mean, I’m happy that subscribers are up, but at what cost?
That’s it. I don’t have time to parse this tonight. I need to sleep or I’m going to sound like a bumbling idiot on the radio tomorrow.
I pull my little-used bottle of melatonin out of the nightstand drawer, pop one in my mouth, and text Sarah to let her know I’ll be late to work.