4. Eric
What the fuck, Holt?
I’m standing in a vending machine room, staring at the coffee display. But I’m not interested in a hot beverage. I’m trying to figure out why I want the woman I can’t have and why I have to be an asshole to her about it.
It’d be one thing if Atlas were simply the boss’s daughter. I could quit my job and go after her with a clear conscience.
But Michael isn’t just the guy signing the pay stubs. He’s a brother, a man I served with in the deepest, darkest parts of hell. He saved my life more times than I can count. He doesn’t deserve to have me fucking with his daughter.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I realize what I have to do. A tactical retreat is the only thing that will keep Atlas safe from me and protect my friendship with Michael.
With the phone in my hand, I dial Gary’s number. Last week, he offered to triple what I make at Alpha Defense.
When he answers, I don’t bother with pleasantries. “Is the job still open?”
“For you it is.” Gary answers with a chuckle before breaking into his wheezing smoker’s cough. “Did something come up to make you change your mind like this?”
I think of Atlas in those little black panties. “Yeah, something came up all right.”
We hammer out a few details after that and before I end the call, I ask Gary to keep the news quiet until I can talk with Michael. I owe my friend that much.
I’m about to rejoin the party when my phone dings with a new text message. It’s from a number I don’t recognize. You look sexy tonight in the charcoal suit. How’d your presentation go?
Miss Karma.
Unmasking her is the final thing I need to do before I can make my escape. I send a quick text back, thinking of the dirty clip that started playing to a roomful of new recruits. You could call it a rousing success.
She knew the color of my suit, which means she might be watching me. All I have to do is get her to drop her guard. Then I can lure her out of hiding and expose the woman that continues to hack me.
* * *
Atlas
I sitin the posh bathroom stall complete with a red settee, thinking about my fight with Eric. I can’t figure him out. He acts like he wants me one minute and he hates me the next.
It’s moments like these that I wish my mom were here. Maybe I could tell her about him, ask for advice. Maybe she’d talk to my dad and tell him to let Eric and me be together.
I sigh, knowing that fantasy isn’t true. If she were alive, my mom would tell me to try to see things from my father’s perspective. She’d tell me how much he loves me and that I should make him happy.
My backpack buzzes, and I reach for my cellphone. The message is from Eric. You could call it a rousing success.
Despite the way he acted outside, I smile at his sense of humor, at the way teasing him as Miss Karma is so much fun. Why can’t it be this easy when we’re together in person?
My phone dings with a new message from him. Charcoal suit? Are you going to tell me what you’re wearing tonight?
I was planning to put the seduction plan on hold after our argument and the way he called me a kid.
But then I realize I may not get another chance like this. I need him to see me in a new light. I need him to realize that I’m a woman. A woman who aches to be his.
So, I grab my sleeveless cocktail dress from my backpack. The top is silver sequins, and the short flouncy skirt is black. It hits mid-thigh, highlighting my long legs.
I send a text to Eric. Sequins and black lace. If you can guess the color of my panties, I’ll let you take them off.
Then I gather my blonde curls into a loose ponytail, letting a few strands frame my face. Finally, I change my eyeshadow and lipstick color even though I doubt he was paying that much attention to how I looked earlier. He was too busy calling me a kid.
Slipping into the black mask that matches, I fight a wave of panic. What if Eric recognizes me? What if I make a gesture that’s too familiar?
“Stop it,” I say only to realize I’m talking to myself.
Eric doesn’t spend enough time around me to recognize my gestures. He barely acknowledges my presence when we’re in the same room together. As long as I don’t slip up, everything will be fine.
I’ve just finished stowing the rest of my things in the hotel gym’s locker room when my phone buzzes with another message from him. Guess mine.
I tap out a quick response. I asked you first.
There’s a long pause before his next message and I like the idea that Eric is thinking about me and my underwear. I hope it’s making him hard, causing his balls to ache with tension.
It’s a trick question. You’re not wearing any.
My cheeks flush and I glance around the empty locker room as if someone might be reading over my shoulder.
His next message makes my heart skip a beat. You’re here tonight, aren’t you?
With shaking fingers, I type my response. How’d you know it was a trick?
Eric ignores my question. Let’s meet. Tell me where you are.
You’ll have to find me.With that, I put the phone in my clutch purse and leave the hotel locker room. I’ll give Eric time to think on that for a few minutes before I approach him as Karma.
* * *
Eric
Apparently,sequins are popular tonight. I’ve counted no less than six women wearing them. I’ve managed to rule out four of them and I’m currently chatting up the fifth at the bar.
Three minutes into the conversation and I start talking in detail about what I do at Alpha Defense Industries. Her interest instantly wanes, and she looks over my shoulder for someone else to talk to.
That leaves a redhead at the end of the bar. She sends a coy smile my way and I extract myself from the current conversation before moving next to her.
A few minutes of flirting and I make a double entendre about penetration testing. She’s either a very good actress or she doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.
The conversation quickly fizzles out after that and my frustration mounts. I want to find Miss Karma, discover her true identity, and tell my friend I’m quitting.
Someone claps me on the shoulder, and I turn to see Michael.
He takes a seat on the barstool next to me. “You’re really working hard to take someone home tonight.”
I sip my scotch. “Karma is here.”
Michael takes a moment to casually glance around the room. If I can’t spot her, I doubt he can.
“She’s toying with you,” he finally says. “Why?”
It’s the one thing I haven’t been able to figure out. It seems personal but I have almost no personal connections. I keep in touch with a couple of buddies I served with but other than that, there’s only my half-sister.
Being on my own has never bothered me. But lately, my life is starting to feel empty and that’s just one more reason I need to get the hell away from Atlas. “If I knew why Karma is taunting me, I’d be a psychologist. Now, get lost before you scare her off.”
He grunts and stands. “Find her tonight.”
Just as I’m finishing my scotch, the bartender sets a glass in front of me filled with pink liquid. “This is from the lady over there.”
“Point to her,” I instruct the bartender and pick up the drink. I take a sip of the sweet cocktail that has a bite to it.
He nods to a woman in a sequin dress. Her curves remind me of Atlas and for a moment my mouth goes dry. But I force myself to remember that it’s not her. She’s here flirting with rich boys.
I cross to the room where Miss Karma is.
She gives me a cheeky grin. “Did you enjoy the drink?”
“Do you want to tell me what it was?” I gesture toward the dance floor and hold out my hand to her. This woman has been hacking me for several weeks and has taken the time to meet with me in person. Clearly, she wants something.
She puts her hand in mine and I lead her to the dance floor.
I put a hand on her hip when she steps into my arms. Something about her feels familiar, like hearing your favorite song on the radio again after not listening to it for years.
“Did you come all this way to dance with me, sweetheart?” I ask as we sway along to the violin music.
“It’s one of the reasons.” Her tone is breathy, like we’re doing a hell of a lot more than just dancing.
“What are the other ones?”
Her gaze drops to my lips and she licks her own. “I think you already know.”
“There are easier ways to get my attention than hacking.” It’s the one piece that doesn’t fit. Why go to the trouble of hacking me if she just wants a one-night stand?
She shrugs, a move that causes her dress to ride lower on her chest, giving me a peek at delicious cleavage. Freckles dot the valley, reminding me of Atlas.
“I’m the woman who loves a challenge,” she answers as the song ends.
When we leave the dance floor, I grab two flutes of champagne from the waiter and pass her one.
She accepts it and lifts her other hand to touch her mask. That’s when I spot it. The tiny freckle that Atlas has. In the exact same location.
Fuck me. Miss Karma is Atlas.
She’s been flirting with me for weeks as Miss Karma, teasing me just like she did in Mexico. Back then, I walked away. But tonight, I’ll call her bluff. I’ll teach her what happens when she plays with fire.