Chapter 16 #3
“They’re just friends,” Tully declares. “Guys that hot don’t date frumpy women in bad polyester suits.
” She reaches out, touching my arm gently.
“No offense intended, obviously. I mean, I’m a girl’s girl.
Wear whatever you want, queen, as far as I’m concerned.
I just know guys like that.” She slits her sky-blue eyes Capo’s way with a wicked grin.
“They want someone even more put together than they are. Someone who makes them afraid that maybe they aren’t the hottest thing in the room, after all.
That’s their kryptonite, and I do look especially fetching in my Clover original jumpsuit tonight.
” She skims her hands over the 1970s-inspired silhouette that clings to every curve.
“You do,” I agree, my stomach tied in too many knots to say more.
“Mind if I take over service for them?” she asks. “With the tip all yours to keep, of course. Obviously.”
“You can keep the tip,” I say, “and be my guest. But fair warning, Keely’s pretty drunk and sad. She just found out her ex got his mistress pregnant with twins. In their bed.”
Tully sucks in a scandalized breath. “Bastard! Seriously, what a shitty piece of work. Ugh. Men! Seriously, I hate them. And I hate that I’m straight.
” She flips her hair over both shoulders before pulling in a calming breath.
“But I am, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen a guy that hot in real life, so…
I’m going in. But I’ll be super gentle and supportive and sneaky about giving Capo my number. Keely won’t suspect a thing. Trust me.”
“Of course, I do,” I say.
I do trust her. When it comes to dating, Tully’s a shark, but she’s not the kind to bloody the water with the flesh of the innocent.
And she is a girl’s girl. But she’s also coming off a long dry spell, and if Capo’s single, there’s no reason she shouldn’t seduce him to her heart—and vagina’s—content. She has no conflict of interest.
I, on the other hand, have complicated connections to the Voodoo.
But those connections might be about to get less complicated, once I’m fired Monday morning…
I can’t believe Dean didn’t tell me as soon as the emergency leave was approved.
Hell, I can’t believe he didn’t tell me he was asking for emergency leave in the first place.
I thought we were being honest with each other, at least about everything except how desperate we still are to get naked together.
I feel so betrayed.
So sad and angry and just…thrown.
So thrown, that when Emilio asks if I want to cut out early, I take him up on it.
I usually try to stay on as long as possible on Saturdays—both for the tips and the chance to listen to the late-night bands—but tonight, I’m…
itchy. Itchy like the skin beneath a cast, deep down in a place no pencil can reach.
And there’s only one cure for a case of the itches like that…
On my way out to the parking lot, to the Civic that Dean insisted I drive on the weekends, too, I text my hacker friend, Plato—Hey, I know it’s last-minute, and I’ve been MIA since last weekend, but would you be up for a hunt tonight? I got off work early, and I’m too wired to sleep.
My terminally online friend texts back right away—Hell yes! I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been dying to dive back into this. I think we’re close. We’re going to catch this son of a bitch soon, babe, I can feel it.
I’m not sure I share his certainty, but I love the enthusiasm. Amazing! Should I swing by your place?
Plato: No can do. My parents are hosting their swingers’ group this weekend.
The house is full of old people fucking.
I’ve been hiding in the pool house with my noise-canceling headphones, but I can still hear them.
Pretty sure I’d be scarred for life, if I weren’t already scarred from growing up with perverts for parents.
Clover: Gross. No offense, but gross.
Plato: No offense taken. It IS gross. To be fair, as an asexual human, I find all fucking gross, but the fact that it’s my parents and their super old friends makes it especially gnarly.
Clover: You have to move out. ASAP.
Plato: Can’t.
Clover: Why not? You’re twenty-one and have a great job.
Plato: I like saving money too much. If I keep investing what I would be spending on rent, I’ll be a millionaire by the time I’m twenty-eight.
Clover: Wow. Go, you. That’s incredible! Congratulations!
Plato: Thanks, but I don’t deserve congrats. I’m just a nepo baby.
Clover: But a nepo baby with the sense to invest and save. That’s impressive. And you go out of your way to help the less fortunate, which is also pretty special. I certainly appreciate it. I never could have followed this trail alone.
Plato: My pleasure. Seriously. I love this kind of stuff. And I’d love to host you here for another hacker sleepover, but these perverts are going to be at it all night. These things always run late. But I could come to yours. Where’s your new place again?
I hesitate for a beat.
Dean assured me it was fine for me to have guests over to my apartment, as long as they’re people who are safe to know where he and the kids live, but I haven’t taken him up on the offer yet.
I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time for socializing, and my best friends have a newborn at home.
It’s way easier for me to pop over to visit Blue and Beatrice at their place than for them to pack up Charlie and all her baby things to visit me.
But I’ve known Plato for over a year, and I know he’s a great guy. We met at a digital music mastering workshop, bonded over our love of 1990s techno and vintage fashion, and became instant flea market, bargain-hunting friends.
It wasn’t until after the accident, when he saw how deeply depressed I was about the lack of justice being served, that I found out he’s also a master-level hacker.
I’m sure Dean wouldn’t be thrilled to learn that I’m hunting down the man who hit my car on the dark web, but it’s not like we’ll be using his IP address—Plato has his own, deeply protected hotspot—and I’m not thrilled about Dean’s behavior right now, either.
Looks like I won’t be his problem for much longer, anyway…
Besides, it’s already nearly eleven. By the time Plato gets to my place, it will be midnight, and Dean and the girls will have been asleep for hours. Dean will never even know I had a friend over unless Plato decides to sleep over, and if he does, well…Dean can just deal with it.
And if he thinks I’m hooking up with my completely asexual, but undeniably gorgeous friend, that’s not my problem, either. In fact, it might be just the petty revenge this situation demands!
Ignoring the voice in my head that says it’s tacky to use a friend to make your boss jealous, I text Plato the address and directions, warning him to come straight in the side door by the garage and up the stairs in the back, and that I’ll be waiting for him with popcorn and peanuts, his preferred hacking snacks.
On the way home, I swing into the gas station for energy drinks with bull semen in them, the kind that keep me sharp for hours, but I still have plenty of time to get changed into my PJs before Plato taps at my door.
I open it, revealing my friend in his usual GQ apparel, the stuff that makes him look like a model leaving a photo shoot, and smile. “No one would ever suspect that you’re a dark web mastermind.”
He grins, his brown eyes flashing. “You don’t know the half of it. Wait until I show you what I found on Sunday after you left my place. I think we’ve got a name.” He glances around. “Aw, cute crib. I like the wallpaper.”
My eyes go wide. “A name? What? You’re kidding me!” I thump his shoulder as he moves past me to the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
He laughs as he settles in. “I’m telling you now. And I know you don’t have time to work on this kind of stuff during the week. I didn’t want to get you all excited and leave you hanging.”
“Probably wise,” I say as I close the door, doing my best not to think about Dean, who has zero problems getting me excited and leaving me hanging.
For the next few hours, I’m determined to forget about Dean.
To forget about everything except tracking down the man who hit my car and wrecked my body.
Closing this shitty chapter with some much-needed justice would feel so good.
Beatrice and I deserve an apology from this jerk, if nothing else.
And I, for one, would like to see Blue compensated for the medical bills he insisted on paying.
My insurance covered everything after my five thousand dollar deductible, but Blue took care of the initial expenses and the copays for extra physical therapy.
Hoping that a man who stole the truck he used in a hit-and-run has the cash to cover the damage he caused is probably a long shot, but a girl can dream.
About things like that, at least.
But you can be damned sure I’ll be doing my best not to dream about anything other than justice tonight, certainly not my lying, sneaky, heart-breaking boss.
He really did break my heart a little.
My chest ached all the way home…
It’s still aching as I plop down next to Plato, ready to feed him popcorn while he puts his brilliant hacker hands to work on my behalf.