Chapter 17
17
I’ve stayed inside all morning, only getting out of bed to grab caffeine and toast.
It took a long time to get out of bed because I was up most of the night, either too afraid to fall asleep because I was stupid enough to look up secondary drowning, or couldn’t drift off because I was still dreaming of the way Enzo’s neck smelled, the feeling of his chest on mine, and the thought of pressing my lips to his tanned skin.
My hug was meant to thank him, nothing more; somewhere in that precious space created by my hands around his neck, was the perfect chance for a kiss. How can I even describe how it felt to be that close? Combine throbbing lust with warm affection and professional adoration— it’s somewhere in that bubbling cauldron of emotions.
I’m doomed. I’m falling for my boss, and he keeps making it worse without even trying. Just being his grumpy, aloof, intelligent, powerful, excruciatingly attractive self.
I even think I trust him now. And giving me access to the system shows he’s trusting me, too. Something tells me if we ever truly confide in each other, the dominoes will completely fall for me. And last night? The way he touched me, was there the moment I needed him? Maybe he feels the same.
The more I feel this way, the scarier it all is. I’ve been burning the midnight oil looking for ways to connect the hacks to someone, or something. In my life, there haven’t been many things I can believe in, but my ability to crack a mystery is one of them. And that means, the longer I’m in the weeds at GhostEye, the closer I’ll get to proving my worth. The closer I am to that happening, the closer I am to telling Enzo my truth. Asking for his help.
Now that I’m starting to care about him, the more hesitant I am to have him be the one to help. It’s not that I have many other options, but once he knows the truth, I could be putting him in danger. There’s still no way of knowing that Father won’t come to find me. If I’m with Enzo, he could go down with shrapnel. When I first came here, the thought of innocent people being dragged into my situation made me uncomfortable. Now it makes my guts twist.
I can’t let myself want him more than I do or I might lose my nerve and never tell him about Father. Could I even do that? How long would Enzo pay me cash? Give me space… probably not much longer.
I sit up in bed with my laptop on my knees and don’t take my eyes off the screen. Grabbing a piece of toast from my bedside table, I crunch down. I dust the crumbs off the side of the bed and think about how, when Anton found me doing such things, he’d tsk at me like I was a slob. It is slovenly. But the one thing that has taken my mind off last night is work. So be it.
Focusing on an area of the system I haven’t examined before, I concentrate on a patch of activity from six months ago, having deciding to work back from the time when GhostEye went public to now.
That’s weird.
I scroll up. Scroll down again through the data… and back up again. Shit. Another breach?
Clicking my fingers like a maniac, I examine the data for the next half hour and come across suspicious activity. Shit. Is there another rat in the henhouse? Is this really another hack? Three undetected hacks?
I run basic commands to track the IP address. And then, the second strange thing happens. The IP address is easy to trace. Just like the first breach I found, whoever is trying to crack into the system isn’t masking themselves very well. The most basic tool available to nearly any Tom, Dick, or Harry shows me the IP address. It’s Mexico again. And like the first two hacks, this one was done months and months ago.
How did these hacks slip through Enzo’s team? Are they really that incompetent? Maybe it really is an inside job. By a security engineer? But why wouldn’t they have asked for something by now? Hackers usually want ransom, and this is the third hack from the same region of Mexico and no demands have been made?
I need more caffeine. I need more time to dig. This could be bad. Really bad. What if the hacks are connected? What if this person, or people, are collecting for a huge payday down the road? Or worse, want to tear down the system… If they’ve been undetected for this long… there might be more.
I have to tell Enzo.
But it’s Saturday. Only someone obsessed like me or someone on overtime would be working today. My clock reads ten-thirty. Luis said he’d give me a ride at eleven because his first book club is meeting today. I don’t know why we have to leave so early when it’s just in town at Pages and Perks and it isn’t until twelve-thirty. But I can’t cancel on him. He was so damn excited about it and he’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t let me down.
I close my laptop. The hacks happened months ago. It is urgent that Enzo know, but equally, whoever did this isn’t exactly moving at light speed. It can wait until after Luis’ club if need be but I better let Enzo know I need to talk to him today.
I put my laptop to the side on the bed, brush more toast crumbs off my lap and sheets.
I dig around in the clouds of blankets and covers and find my cell.
ME
I need to talk to you ASAP.
I send the text to Enzo and wait for one in return, or even some ellipses. Nothing. I guess not everyone works on a Saturday morning. Enzo did say he likes to ride on the weekend. Maybe he’s at the stables?
I tap the pads of my fingers on my laptop. Should I text him again? I don’t want to go to the club without planning a time to meet Enzo. What if he’s on his way out of town or something?
Fuck it. I’ll do things the old-fashioned way. I press the telephone icon to call him, but after five rings it goes to voicemail.
Shit. It’s getting late. Maybe he’s not even on the ranch, but I should at least go around and look, right? But there’s no way I can scour acres and acres of land and be ready in twenty minutes when Luis said he’d pick me up.
I crack my knuckles one by one. Okay. These hacks are old. The urgency is mostly coming from my own need to tell Enzo. Between now and post book club, it’s really, really unlikely that the hacker or hackers will demand something. Plus, it’s Saturday. Banks are closed.
It’s settled. I’ll go to Luis’ book club and then race back and find Enzo.
I head over to my dresser, happy to have something to take my mind off the deep questions on my shoulders today. Fortunately, when Pen found out I didn’t have a swimsuit, she offered to take cash in exchange for me ordering a few things on a clothing website she loves. She gave me her fifteen percent off discount, too.
I didn’t want to spend much. I still don’t know how long this GhostEye arrangement will work for me. I’m technically down three weeks of a twelve-week contract, so spending my pennies isn’t a great idea. But I did buy a couple of new tank tops, a pair of loose linen shorts, a gorgeous new sweater, graduating me out of that hoodie, and a pair of strappy sandals that don’t feel very me , but Penelope insisted are super on-trend, and frankly, it is kind of hot in my Docs some days.
I have to say, when I gear up and look at myself from all directions in my full-length mirror, I have pretty nice ankles. Who knew?
In the book we read for club the heroine talked about the importance of feeling pretty and how it influenced her sex drive. I think she was on to something, because seeing how cute I look makes me wonder what Enzo would think of me in these little heels. What he would think if I wore some of the latex the heroine did in that book.
There were a lot of things in that book I’d try with Enzo in another life, and others I’m not so sure of. Like swallowing? Surely that tastes nasty? The heroine loved it. I bet Enzo would taste good everywhere. He just has that well-groomed, clean, tasty-dick look about him.
The heroine was right. My outfit really is influencing my sex drive.
Just then, my doorbell rings. I grab my sweater to protect me from the bite of air-con everyone is pumping like mad in the Indian summer and head to the door.
My ride isn’t what I expected it to be. Instead of Luis here with his beat-up pickup Rio and Santi complained he should sell at Julia’s, there are four men on horseback with five horses.
“Ah, sorry.” Luis checks out my outfit like it just isn’t going to do. “I should have elaborated when I told you I’d give you a ride.”
I glance behind. Enzo is on Estrella, in jeans and a perfectly fitted black t-shirt teasing around the shape of his God-like torso. I guess he was at the stables. Surely, he could have answered my text or call?
I shake my head. Later. A few more hours won’t matter, and Luis does right now.
Luis rubs his hands together excitedly. “You said you always wanted to try riding…”
“Sure but… don’t I need a lesson or something first?”
Santi calls over, “Not on old Hector. You could ride him with your eyes closed. ”
I step out onto the porch and shield my eyes from the sun. “You guys are all coming to the book club?”
None of them answer, but it’s an obvious yes.
It’s just about the sweetest thing that Luis’ sons are coming to his book club to make sure there are butts in seats. I know that after their sister, Shay, moved out, a neighbor of Luis’ got him involved in her spicy book club to keep him living and laughing in that empty house of his. Spicy books aren’t just some hobby for Luis, they saved him from loneliness and growing old. They made him believe in love again. I’m not sure if he’s told his sons all of this, but somehow, they know how important maintaining a book club is to his mental health.
If there’s one thing I’m learning, between the way Santi and Rio backed up Enzo’s firing last night, to dinner at Julia’s, to the fact that they want Monarch Hills to be a safe haven for their family, the Mendez family is tight.
What a beautiful thing it would be to truly, permanently, forever be a part of it.
Maybe that should be one of my three wishes.