Chapter Twenty-One
Erin
Time has a strange way of easing the emotional strain I was under.
What once felt like walking on a razor’s edge now feels almost like routine.
It has been over two weeks since Matteo dragged me to The Bastion and pulled the rug out from under my entire world.
Since then, things have settled, giving me a new sense of normalcy.
I show up at the vet clinic twice a week in the mornings, more out of habit than because they need me.
Then I come to work at The Bastion, eat lunch with Allan and Dave in the employees’ lunchroom despite Matteo’s protests, and head home in a company-owned car driven by a driver.
I haven’t bought the car like I initially wanted to—my pettiness isn’t that deep that I’d spend so much money on something so trivial.
But I’ve found a swanky coffee shop near The Bastion, and I buy a ridiculously overpriced coffee every day after lunch, internally snickering at the thought of him regretting giving me the card.
Serves him well, I hope his bank calls him every day about the unusual payments .
At this point, trying to irritate him has become my reason to live.
And in between, I hunt.
Matteo has replaced the laptop he took from me, and given me full access to his systems, and what he has uncovered is impressive.
However, there is nothing in his files I hadn’t already found for myself.
He has everything, except for the message coming from his server.
It has been taken down since I saw it, but I saved a copy of the raw message in an encrypted log file.
I don’t know why I haven’t told him about what I found, and a part of me feels guilty for not letting him know.
But I need more time to find out if he is involved in the network or not, and why he is asking me to investigate them.
I still don’t know if I can trust him. I found out the message to Geryon had been sent from a guest network hosted by a server he called Pandemonium.
Judging from the name, it has to be linked to his secret club.
I might or might not have snooped around and found evidence of the club being in the underground of the building.
But I haven’t dared to push further, afraid to trigger another trap and alert Matteo.
So, I throw myself into the mission I was recruited for.
I dig, I track, I delve into the bowels of the cyber-underworld and watch surveillance footage until my eyes sting.
Matteo’s resources are seriously impressive and I must admit that I have gotten way further in my investigation here than I would have on my own.
Tonight, I step out of the elevator of The Atrium, quietly humming the last hit we had been blasting in the microphone with the girls.
Our girls’ night out has become an institution and we try to meet at the karaoke dive at least twice a month.
Tonight had been fun as usual, and Lily, whose belly is starting to show, had become a huge star with her interpretation of Guns N’ Roses’ Sweet Child O’ Mine .
It was a blast and I am still high from the laughs and adrenaline, and maybe a bit tipsy from the margaritas.
I head to my door, fishing out the keys from my purse, when I hear the door on the other side of the hallway open.
I look around, curious. I’ve never met whoever is living there and I think that maybe I should have intro—
My thoughts come to a screeching halt when I see the man who comes out of the door. His back is half-turned, but I would recognize the expanse of shoulders anywhere.
Matteo.
His jacket is off, and his sleeves are rolled up in a relaxed manner.
And he is hugging a woman.
I am rooted to the spot, too baffled by what I see.
After a beat, he takes a small step back, and I see the woman.
She is stunning. Like traffic-stopping-stunning.
And she rises on tiptoes to brush a kiss over his cheek, her hand resting lightly over his chest. Then she sees me and waves with a soft smile.
Matteo realizes that they are not alone and turns my way.
His eyes widen. “Erin…” he starts, but I manage to unlock my door despite my shaking hands, throw a cheery “Hi, guys!” over my shoulder and slip in, slamming the door shut and hoping that my heart won’t jump out of my chest.
I head straight to the shower, letting the hot water run over me. My mind is reeling.
That explains so much. Why he pushed me away, why he is aloof and irascible around me.Well, beside the fact that he might not be as attracted to me as I am to him.
He has someone .
Of course he has , I tell myself. After all, he is good-looking, powerful and incontestably wealthy. He doesn’t lack company, that’s for sure. And it’s really none of my business.
Despite the hot water pouring down on me, I’m chilled to the bone.
Humiliation and rejection crash over me like a wave, pulling me under to the point where I can’t breathe.
* * * *
When I step out of the elevator to the third floor of The Bastion the next morning, I am mostly composed.
Even though the night had been grueling, I managed to get up earlier than usual and slip out of the condo with the sole intention to dodge him.
Matteo has been picking me up every morning and has a driver drop me off every evening since I started working for him.
I thought it was because he enjoyed our banter or even my company.
But now I realize that he was giving me a ride because he must have slept in the same building anyway, just across the hallway.
He was only helping out an employee, and once again I read too much into his actions, wanting it to be more than it really was.
It is high time I stopped relying on others. Especially him.
So today, I walked to work on my own. The office building is located only a few blocks from The Atrium, and walking there only took fifteen minutes.
However, I am frustrated that I haven’t been able to locate the shop where he buys the coffee and bagel for me every morning.
It should be here somewhere on the way, or at least close by.
I’ll have to ask Allan and Dave, maybe they know where it is.
I place my hand on the biometric scanner and step into the office floor.
Matteo green-lighted me the week I started working here and now I can pretty much come and go as I want.
The two techs are not here yet and I enter Matteo’s office, unlocking it with my palm.
My desk had been moved right next to his on the second day I’d started working, and it galled me at first that he’d go so far solely to keep an eye on me. But now it all seems unimportant.
I shrug my denim jacket off and sit down to power on my endpoint, ready to bury myself in message boards and data flow. After an hour of blissful quiet, I hear Allan and Dave come in. They stick their heads through the open door to greet me.
“Hey, Erin, you’re early today,” Dave states.
“Hi, guys!” I try to sound more upbeat than I feel. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get a head start on the day.”
“Wanna grab a coffee later?” Dave offers and I give him a thumbs-up with a cheery smile. We have become good friends, he is funny and outgoing, and I enjoy his company a lot.
They set up shop, and for a while all I hear is the rhythmic clacking of keys, grounding and reassuring in their normalcy. Then I hear the elevator doors open and I know Matteo is here.
His heavy footsteps stomp across the floor in my direction and a wave of panic hits me.
I’m not nearly ready to face him .
I try to look composed although my fingers start to shake.
I hear his deep growl when he greets Allan and Dave, then I feel him looming over me like a thundercloud. He drops the coffee cup and the bag with the bagel on my desk. Still, I don’t look up.
“You didn’t wait for me,” he grits out, low and dangerous.
One point for your deductive skill .
I force my face into a serene mask and smile, eyes still on my screen. “Hi, boss. It’s such a beautiful day, I wanted to make the most of it. In fact, I’ll be walking here every day now.”
He just stands there, silent and seething, then he turns on his heels to stalk to the door.
He closes it with a loud click, and suddenly I’m trapped in the confined space with him.
I can’t avoid looking up at him anymore.
So I do, wiping any expression from my face to hide the fact that my mouth is dry and my heart is somewhere in my throat.
He looks like his usual self—dark suit, dark stubble, dark hair, dark expression.
But I won’t cower, so I beam up at him. “Can I help you?”
He is now leaning over my desk, both fists bracing on the wood. His enraged face is hovering a few inches over mine. “You will wait for me to pick you up. Every damn morning. Is that clear?”
The nerve of this man .
My neck heats from fury and I slowly stand up to look him straight in the eyes.
“No.”
He recoils, disbelief written on every line of his face.
“No?” His voice is low and lethal, but I hold my ground. What could he possibly do that I haven’t envisioned before? Shoot me? Be my guest.
“No.” I smile sweetly again. “Now, if you have nothing work-related to discuss, I’ll go grab a coffee.” I round my desk, deliberately ignoring the cup he put down in front of me minutes ago, and open the door to walk out.
“Dave, Allan, you guys ready for our coffee?” I say brightly.