Leland started when Derek plunked a glass of neat bourbon down on the coffee table in front of him.
“A toast,” Derek said. “To best men and best friends!”
Leland raised his glass and let the smooth whiskey burn down his throat while he celebrated with his partners.
But part of his brain was still back at the Work It Out gym. He hated an unsolved puzzle. Even more, he would miss the little edge of fun in his email exchanges with Dawn.
Chapter 3
“Okay, that’s it for today,” Dawn said to her client, a high school tennis player who came after classes to improve his flexibility. She offered him her hand to get up from the mat.
“That was a good workout, Coach,” the young man said, wiping his face with his sweat towel. He draped it around his neck, grabbed his water bottle, and checked his cell phone.
Dawn sighed. Getting a kid to leave his phone in the locker room was nearly impossible, but she’d insisted that he put it on mute.
“Shi-oot!” he said with an apologetic glance at her. “I’m running out of data allowance again. I don’t get it because I’m on the gym’s Wi-Fi.” He tapped at the phone. “Mom’s gonna be pissed.”
“You’re the third person who’s complained about that today, so I don’t think it’s your fault.” She grinned at him. “Tell your mom I said so.”
“Thanks, Coach, I will.” He looked relieved as he started toward the door.
Dawn smiled as she picked up the mat to clean and rehang it. She got a kick out of being called Coach. Her smile turned to a frown as she remembered his complaint.
The customers were getting cranky about the ongoing IT issues at the gym. That was bad because people were often just looking for an excuse to cancel their membership. She didn’t want to see Ramón’s business get hurt because Vicky didn’t know what she was doing on tech matters. Ramón was more like an older brother than a boss to Dawn.
An image of Leland’s sharp, intelligent face flashed across her mind. She’d been thinking about him a lot, all because of a few emails. Those had ended a week ago and she still missed them.
So maybe this was her chance to connect with him again.
If just one more person mentioned the data usage to her, she would take it as a sign that she should offer Leland’s services to Ramón one more time.
She nearly danced a jig when her very next client turned off his phone because his data usage was blowing up his limited plan.
As soon as she finished with her session, she went in search of her boss. She found Ramón and Vicky in their shared office, which suited her just fine. Ramón worried more about keeping the customers happy while Vicky’s eyes were firmly on the bottom line.
“What’s up?” he asked, waving Dawn in. Vicky ignored her and tapped at her keyboard, her long, flashy fingernails clicking against the plastic.
“I’ve gotten some customer complaints about high data usage on their cell phones when they’re here.” She decided not to reference the earlier Wi-Fi problems. No point in rubbing Vicky’s nose in it. “It happens even when their phones are connected to our Wi-Fi. I thought you might want to know about it.”
Ramón glanced at his wife. “Querida, we’re having internet problems again.”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Vicky said, still focused on her computer. “It’s not a big deal. Most people have unlimited data plans anyway.”
“Vick,” Ramón said. “If people are complaining, we need to fix it.”
That’s why it was good to have Ramón present for the conversation.
Vicky stopped typing and gave Dawn an irritated look before she smiled at Ramón. “Ray, sweetie, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
“Good.” Ramón nodded to Dawn. “Thanks for letting us know.”
Dawn walked back to the staff room unsatisfied. Vicky seemed dismissive but Ramón was now involved. That might get his wife to address the issue. Or she might drag her feet like she’d done with the Wi-Fi problem. It left Dawn with a dilemma, though. She’d asked Leland for his assistance previously, and then Ramón had turned it down. She didn’t want to be in that awkward position again.
After her last client, Dawn walked home and showered before dropping onto the sectional in her living room and flipping open her laptop. Could she justify contacting Leland or not?
She wrote and deleted four versions before she decided to send the fifth one.
Dear Leland,
We’ve got a new problem at the gym. The Wi-Fi is working fine but now people are complaining that their cell phone data usage is high, even though they are connected to the gym’s Wi-Fi. Any theories about that?
Regards,
Dawn
She had no idea if he would still be working at nine o’clock on a Tuesday, so she pointed the remote at the television in search of a light, fluffy rom-com. Her taste in programming surprised her friends, but she couldn’t deal with violence or shocks when she wanted to relax. No sooner had she gotten the menu up than an email appeared in her in-box.
An involuntary smile curled her lips, and she wiggled her butt to settle into the cushions so she could enjoy Leland’s message.
Aha! The nefarious data gobbler strikes again! I have theories but they will require proof. I think I need to join your gym.
L.
A shiver of excitement ran through her. Leland Rockwell wanted to join her local Jersey gym. But she hadn’t asked for his help, just his theory. Maybe he had misunderstood. She didn’t want to be embarrassed by turning down his high-level assistance for the second time.
My boss’s wife is supposed to be working on the problem. I was just curious as to what you thought might be causing it.
She hated to hit “send” but she pressed the key.
I’ll work undercover because I’m intrigued by the strange goings-on in Cofferwood. Does the gym have a pool, by any chance?
Excitement turned to intense anticipation. She would see him in person, not just email the man behind the computer screens.
Actually, it has a half Olympic-size pool because it used to be a college gym. Are you a swimmer?
That would explain how nicely he filled out his nerdy T-shirts.
I swim when I need to think. My membership application will be sent in by morning. Do you have any training time slots open this week? We can talk while I sweat.
He wanted her to train him? She had to remind herself to take a breath. And that was a problem. She needed to control her expectations. This was his job, even if he was doing it for free. It had nothing to do with her personally. She was helping out her boss by bringing in a consultant. That’s what Leland was: a consultant. They came into a business, they fixed a problem, and they departed. The latter was what she should keep in mind.
Besides, she barely knew the man, hadn’t thought anything—well, much—about him until they started emailing.
She switched screens to check her calendar and realized why Vicky was so happy with her productivity. It was very high because she liked to work and it allowed her to hang out in a clean, well-lit place surrounded by people she was familiar with and trusted. So her goals and Vicky’s aligned in this case.
She sent him back an email with a list of the limited times she had open.
I see you are very much in demand. I’ll take one open session every day, your choice of when. That will give us an opportunity to consult regularly.
Every day. Maybe that was good. It was surprising how much you learned about a person when you put them through rigorous physical exercise. People responded to the challenge in very different and revealing ways. She could get to know him well enough to find out she didn’t actually like him.
After confirming that he genuinely had no preference as to what time of day they worked out, she sent him back his training schedule and added: Do you want me to train you seriously or is this just a cover?
His response was: I always do things seriously.
She sucked in a breath, suddenly i
nsecure about creating a program for someone like Leland. After all, he could afford the best of the best. For all she knew, he already had a personal trainer. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders. Just because she didn’t work at some fancy gym in Manhattan didn’t mean she should worry about her ability to supervise a rich guy’s fitness routine. Bodies behaved the same no matter how much or little money a person had.
We’ll talk about your goals at our first session.
When his response came back, it brought out her evil trainer’s smile.
That sounds ominous. Remember that I need to be able to walk when you’re done. Until tomorrow.
She typed back: You’ll be able to walk, but not without groaning.
She waited a moment to see if he had anything more to say, but no new email showed up. So she logged into her fitness-planning program. She was going to put together a routine that would test what he was made of.
Better to write him off sooner than later.
At nine forty-five the next morning, Leland stepped out of a limousine around a corner three blocks away from Work It Out. Arriving at the gym in a limo felt too conspicuous, but he didn’t want to give up the time that being chauffeured gave him to work on the trip from Manhattan to New Jersey. After all, he was playing hooky from the office.
As he hefted his gym bag and headed up the street, he found himself surprised by the vivid colors of the turning leaves in contrast to the still-emerald grass along the curb strip. It felt strange not to have to battle for space on the clean, well-kept sidewalks. He spent all his time among the hard, gray surfaces of Manhattan: steel, cement, and glass. He’d forgotten that other places could be softer, slower, and quieter.
He drew in a deep breath of the sunny autumn air and considered whether his partners were correct in saying that he needed to get out more. His daily forays to the lap pool on the top of their office building didn’t count, since he took the elevator to a glass enclosure within a skyscraper.
Maybe he was using his job to keep himself from feeling the absence in his world, but it was what he needed to do right now. His mother shouldn’t be dead. She deserved to live a long life enjoying all the luxuries he could give her since he had become successful. Familiar pain jabbed at his chest.
So he turned back to work, as always, wrapping his fingers around the cell phone in the pocket of his blue hoodie. He’d loaded so much monitoring software onto it that even the phone’s vastly expanded memory was strained.
He lengthened his stride as he recollected that Dawn was waiting at the gym for him. He wanted to see if his memory of her silky, dark hair, slashing cheekbones, and dark, watchful eyes was accurate. Although maybe her avoidance of him at the parties had made her seem more interesting than she really was. An unusual buoyancy bubbled in his chest at the prospect of actually talking with her at last.
He crossed an intersection to see a large, redbrick building dominating the entire block. It looked exactly like what it once had been: a college gymnasium built in the late 1940s, with a double row of tall windows and a convex metal roof. The entrance had been updated with several plate-glass windows on either side of big glass-and-steel double doors. The neon sign over the entrance said WORK IT OUT in bold turquoise letters that glowed even in the daylight.
A cell phone antenna perched on the apex of the roof. It was surprising because the gym wasn’t that much taller than other nearby structures. Maybe the antenna was just a signal booster.
As he approached, a flock of women in yoga pants spilled out the doors, some chatting, some staring at their phones, some looking harried. He held the door as a couple of stragglers sauntered out. One looked him up and down as though she were considering bidding on him at a livestock auction before she said, “Nice manners and good-looking too. You must be taken.” She kept walking.
He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he stepped into the gym’s double-height lobby. Maybe the occasional interaction with random strangers wasn’t so bad after all.
His pleasure was overlaid by another wave of sadness. His mother had insisted that he hold the door for women, children, the elderly, and the infirm. When he asked with teenage sarcasm if there was anyone he shouldn’t hold it for, she’d just given him one of her looks. From then on, whenever he held a door open for anyone, he’d looked at her and she’d smiled.
As soon as he turned toward the blond-wood reception desk, he saw Dawn, and his melancholy blew away like wisps of smoke.
Because Dawn was more than his memory of her.
Her olive skin had the sheen of satin, while her dark eyes were luminous and less wary than he remembered. Maybe because she was on her home turf at the gym. The slight smile of greeting curving her lips was professional, but the lips were soft and full, a delicious contrast to the strong cheekbones and jawline. A high ponytail rippled like a dark waterfall when she nodded to him. She pushed away from the desk with her hip and walked toward him, every movement betraying a coiled energy tamped down under tight control. He had a strong desire to make it explode.
He hoped Dawn remembered that he had signed up using one of his online aliases—Lee Wellmont—so his identity would not be easy to track down if his unauthorized meddling was discovered.
“Hey, Lel . . . Lee. Glad to see you’re smiling,” she said. “That means you’re looking forward to a hard workout.”
“Or maybe it means I’m extremely pleased to see you.” He poured on the Georgia drawl.
Discomfort flickered in her dark eyes. So she didn’t want to flirt at her job. Or maybe she didn’t want to flirt in front of the huge man who had risen from the desk to join them, his baseball mitt of a hand thrust out.
“Welcome to our newest member,” the man said. “I’m Ramón, the owner of this place, and I’m pleased to have you here.”
He’d bet that Ramón had been a boxer . . . or a linebacker. The man’s nose had been broken more than once and his neck was as thick as a telephone pole. His smile, though, held nothing but kindness and affability.
“The pleasure is mine,” Leland said, relieved not to find Ramón’s handshake crushing. “I’ve heard great things about both Dawn and your gym.”
Ramón’s smile turned into a beam. “That makes me real happy, Lee. Who’d you hear it from?”
“Dawn’s friend Alice Thurber. We went to high school together.”
“Alice is good people. Any friend of hers is a friend of mine,” Ramón said.
Dawn cleared her throat. “Talking isn’t going to build you any muscle. Let’s get to work.”
“I hope Alice warned you that Dawn believes in a challenge, both for herself and her clients,” Ramón said, a note of pride in his voice.
“I’m counting on it,” Leland said. “I spend all day in front of a computer, so I need someone to whip me into shape.”
“I’ll give you a quick tour before we get started,” Dawn said, pivoting on her heel and heading toward the smallest of three doors that led off the lobby. He followed, enjoying the swing of her hair and the sway of her surprisingly lush butt under the black leggings she wore with a tight turquoise shirt. The shirt matched the general color scheme and had “Work It Out” embroidered on the back.
He followed her down a hallway past the men’s and women’s locker rooms to a door marked CONSULT ROOM. Dawn knocked and opened the door into a small space that held a desk and two bright blue chairs, gesturing for him to go in.
“This is where we talk with clients about private issues like medical problems or past-due bills. It used to be a supply closet.” She gave him a wry grimace and hesitated for a moment before saying, “Maybe you shouldn’t tell people you work with computers. You’re supposed to be just an average Joe.” She threw him a quick glance. “Not that anyone is going to believe that once they talk to you. Well, except Ramón. He assumes everyone is honest until proven otherwise.”
“I didn’t say I worked with computers. I said I sat in front of a computer. You just have inside knowle
dge.”
She frowned, her strong brows drawing down in the middle until the ends seemed like uptilted wings. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just nervous about this.”
“Why?” He felt nothing but the exhilaration of finding and fixing a problem.
“Because you’re pretending to be someone you’re not. I might slip up and get you in trouble.”
“If you call me Leland by mistake, I can always say that Alice called me that in school so you picked it up from her.” He gave her his best disarming southern smile. “It’s almost the truth.”
“I guess almost truths are better than outright lies. You ready to sweat or do you need to do spy stuff first?”
“My spy stuff is on my phone and collecting information as we speak, so let’s sweat.” He was curious to find out how she conducted her training regime.
“You said to keep it real,” she said, “so let’s stow your bag in the locker room like everyone else’s.”
After he’d stashed his gym bag in a blond-wood locker, he rejoined Dawn in the hallway. “Could I take a look at the pool first?” he requested. “I might stay to swim. That will give my software plenty of time to dig in.”
She nodded, the light catching in the sleek strands of her hair, making his fingers itch to see if it felt as satiny as it looked. She led him back into the lobby and through a room lined with treadmills and ellipticals, about one-quarter of which were in use. No pulse-poundingly loud music blared through the gym, so he could hear the thud of running shoes hitting the rubber tracks.
The far wall was composed of a row of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the promised pool. It glowed a sparkling turquoise, clueing him in to the source of the gym’s eye-popping color scheme. He had to admit that the pale wood floors and paneling provided a nice balance to the brilliant blue, evoking a white sand beach by the Caribbean Sea.
Only one woman plowed through the water in one of the lanes, her stroke slow but steady. The nearly empty pool beckoned to him. “I’m definitely doing some laps after our session.”
She bared her teeth in a mock-sinister smile. “If your arms aren’t rubber by then.”
The Hacker Page 3