Chapter 15 #2
But I’m nothing if not patient.
So I wait. And wait. Watching the clock like a hawk while pretending to work on the Serastra campaign materials.
Caleb spends the next hour making phone calls and finalizing some details of the event.
Finally, around three-thirty, his phone rings, and he steps away from his desk.
After a few minutes of hushed conversation, he grabs his jacket and heads for the door.
“Need to take this call outside,” he says.
The second he’s out of sight, I look around. Flora is heading to Iris’s office, and Joshua just disappeared for a meeting. It’s just me and Steven.
“Steven,” I call out sweetly, perching on the edge of his desk. “I need a favor.”
He looks up warily. “What kind of favor?”
I nod toward Caleb’s abandoned laptop, still open on his desk. “I need to get into that.”
“Absolutely not.” Steven sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Eve, I’m not helping you break into someone’s computer. That’s—”
“It’s for work,” I lie smoothly. “He has some vendor contacts on there that I need for the project, but he password-protected everything.”
Steven’s expression doesn’t budge. “Then ask him for the password.”
Time for the nuclear option. I lean forward conspiratorially. “You know that new game your son’s been begging for? Mystic Realms: Shadow Wars? The one that doesn’t come out until next month?”
His eyes narrow. “How do you know about that?”
“Because I have connections,” I say, pulling out my phone. “And I can get you an advance copy. Tomorrow. All I need is five minutes with that laptop.” Steven stares at me for a long moment. I can practically see the internal battle playing out—his ethics versus his son’s happiness.
“He did injure his foot,” he says finally. “He’s going to be stuck in bed for a few days.”
“He’ll drive your wife crazy unless he has something to distract himself with,” I agree solemnly.
Another pause. Then Steven sighs heavily and stands up. “Five minutes. And I didn’t touch anything.”
“You’re the best,” I grin, already moving toward Caleb’s desk. Steven pulls up another chair and cracks his knuckles.
“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” The laptop is indeed password-protected, but Steven’s better at this stuff than most people give him credit for. Within two minutes, we’re in.
“Alright, you’re in,” Steven says, standing up. “Go grab whatever file you need.”
But instead of opening any files, I pick up the laptop and carry it to my desk, getting to work.
“I thought you needed some vendor information?” Steven asks, looking confused.
“Yeah,” I say distractedly, my fingers moving across the keyboard.
Steven takes a step back, his expression growing alarmed as he watches me. “Eve? Why are cackling like that? What are you planning?” He looks like he’s starting to regret his decision. “Eve, maybe this wasn’t such a good—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him, already getting to work.
Time for some payback.
* * *
When Caleb walks back into the office forty-five minutes later, I can barely contain my grin. He looks composed as always, but there’s something different about his stride—a little more tension in his shoulders, maybe. Or perhaps that’s just wishful thinking.
He settles into his chair and immediately opens his laptop, his jaw set in that particular way that usually means he’s pissed but trying to hide it. Perfect.
“Caleb,” Joshua calls out from across the room, not even looking up from his screen. “Can you send me the promotional materials for the Serastra campaign? I need to take them down to the Digital and Content Division for the final review.”
“Sure thing,” Caleb replies, his voice perfectly normal. He clicks around on his laptop for a moment, then hits send. “Just sent it over.”
Joshua’s computer chimes with the incoming email. After a few seconds, he slowly turns to stare at Caleb with the most bewildered expression I’ve ever seen on his face.
“Uh... Caleb?” Joshua’s voice is cautious, like he’s talking to someone who might be having a mental breakdown. “Are you... feeling okay today?”
Caleb glances up, frowning. “I’m fine. Why?”
“If you say so,” Joshua says slowly, his eyes still fixed on his screen with the same expression you’d have if you opened an email expecting quarterly reports and found pictures of dancing lobsters instead. How odd.
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
The day progresses beautifully. Every few minutes, someone from another department walks by our section with curious glances in Caleb’s direction.
Maria from Accounting actually stops dead in her tracks when she passes his desk, staring at his computer screen over his shoulder before quickly scurrying away, whispering to her colleague.
Later in the afternoon, someone from the content division comes up specifically to ask Caleb about ‘the promotional materials he sent down.’ The conversation is brief but involves a lot of confused hand gestures and what looks like barely contained laughter from the content guy, more so when he glances at me and I nod my head.
He’s smart enough not to give it away, though.
As the day goes on, Caleb has gotten no fewer than seven strange looks from various coworkers, two hushed conversations that stop abruptly when he approaches, and one very awkward interaction with someone from IT who asked if he needed ‘help with anything technical.’
I’m having the time of my life.
“Eve,” Caleb says suddenly, his voice cutting through my barely concealed amusement. “Did you do something to my computer?”
I look up innocently from my screen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say sweetly, returning my attention to the mock-up of the launch invitation. “Why would I do something to your computer?”
His eyes narrow. “Because you’re you.”
“That’s not an answer,” I reply, tapping my pen against my lips thoughtfully. “Although if you’re having technical difficulties, maybe you should call IT. I hear they’re very helpful.”
Before he can respond, his phone buzzes with a text. He glances at it and his expression shifts from suspicious to professional. “I need to take this call,” he says, grabbing his jacket. “Meeting prep.”
I know exactly what meeting he’s talking about, and I have to admit, I’m curious about how it’ll go.
Landing Zeeshan would put our campaign in an entirely different league—the kind of artisan whose mere involvement would get us featured in Yacht & Leisure Magazine before we even launch.
But the man hasn’t taken a commission in five years.
If Caleb can actually secure him, it’ll be the coup of the century.
Caleb disappears for twenty minutes. When he comes back, he looks cautiously optimistic, which means the preliminary call went well. Good. Whatever prank war we have going on, the Serastra project is too important to sabotage.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy watching him squirm a little.
An hour before the day ends, Caleb’s computer pings with an email. He opens it, and I watch his face go through several interesting color changes—pale, then red, then a sort of greenish shade I didn’t even know was humanly possible.
He stands up abruptly, his chair rolling backward.
“I need to...” He looks around wildly, spots his jacket, grabs it, and heads for the door. “I’ll be back.”
“Everything okay?” Flora calls out with genuine concern.
“Fine,” Caleb says tersely. “Just need to handle something with HR.”
The second he’s out of sight, Joshua wheels his chair over to my desk, his eyes bright with curiosity. “Okay, spill,” he demands. “What did you do?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” I say, but I can’t quite keep the smugness out of my voice.
“Eve.” Joshua leans closer, lowering his voice. “I got that email from Caleb this morning. The one with the promotional materials?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“There was also a forty-slide PowerPoint presentation about the mating habits of sea cucumbers.”
I snort, then quickly cover it with a cough. “That’s... weird.”
“With detailed anatomical diagrams,” Joshua continues, grinning now. “And a really passionate introduction about how sea cucumber reproduction represents the untapped potential of maritime innovation.”
I press my lips together to keep my laughter in. “That’s—He must be passionate about sea cucumbers. Did you, ah, read the whole thing?”
“Every single slide,” Joshua confirms. “It was weirdly compelling. I learned so much about invertebrate reproductive cycles. But I’m guessing that wasn’t exactly what the content division was expecting for the Serastra campaign?”
“Probably not,” I agree. “Somebody should tell Caleb to keep his hobbies to himself.”
Before Joshua can say anything, Steven looks up from his computer with a concerned expression.
“Has anyone else been getting weird emails from Caleb today?” he asks.
“Because I got one that was supposedly about vendor coordination, but it also had a recipe for fish tacos. Very detailed. With wine pairings.”
“Oh, and one about the craftsmen timeline,” Flora chimes in. “He added a thirteen-page analysis of why pirates were actually misunderstood entrepreneurs.”
“The pirates one was my favorite,” Joshua admits. “Really makes you think.”
My nails dig into my pants as I try to keep it together. As the others discuss the creative emails being sent along with the attachments, I pat myself on the back. I don’t know much about computers, but I know emails and how they can be manipulated.
Caleb can eat shit for all I care. This is what he gets for stealing my parking spot.
Twenty minutes later, the office door opens, and Caleb walks back in. His expression is dark, and his eyes scan the office until they land on me. I feel a little shiver run down my spine.
He walks straight to my desk, ignoring the curious stares from everyone else in the office. “Eve,” he says quietly, and there’s something in his voice that makes my stomach flip. “I need to speak with you.”
“I’m kind of busy—”