The Hacker

by Herkness, Nancy

She must have been staring because when she glanced at his face, his eyes burned hot. She quickly turned to put away the BOSU ball he’d been using. “If you’re not swimming, I really need to stretch you,” she said. It was her job and she had to do it.

  He draped his towel around his neck and grabbed his water bottle. “Anything to lie down and rest.” Tilting his head back, he lifted the bottle to his lips, drawing Dawn’s eyes to the movement of muscles and tendons in his throat as he swallowed. He had a slight scruff of whiskers at this hour, and she longed to run her fingertips over it to test the texture of skin and hair.

  “I wasn’t that hard on you,” she scoffed before she spread out a gym towel on the mat.

  “It’s cumulative,” he said, lowering the bottle. “I was stiffer this morning than any one before.”

  “The second day is always the worst. You’ll be better tomorrow, I promise.” She waved him down onto the mat, enjoying the fluid way he crossed his ankles, bent his knees, and lowered himself onto his butt. No balance issues there. He lay back and she let her gaze skim over the full length of him. He’d stripped to his shorts for this session so she could see the way his skin outlined the powerful muscles of his thighs and calves. “For a computer geek, you’re in surprisingly good shape.”

  He chuckled, a deep, rich baritone sound. “I learned early that if you want your mind to function at peak efficiency, you have to make sure its container is also in good shape.”

  “The mind-body connection.” She nodded.

  He ensnared her gaze with his. “It’s key for multiple objectives.”

  There was no mistaking the undercurrent in that statement. “Bend your right knee,” she said, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

  He moaned and closed his eyes when she pressed against his leg to deepen the stretch. “Heaven and hell all in one,” he said. “More.”

  “Breathe in and then let it out.” As he exhaled, she pushed, feeling his body relax enough to stretch that little bit farther.

  He moaned again, a melodious rasp, and she couldn’t help speculating how he would sound in the throes of something more than a stretch.

  “Okay, straighten now.” She shifted her weight off his shin and wished she had a sweat towel to wipe off the perspiration she could feel popping out on her skin, perspiration that was brought on by nothing more than her indecent imagination.

  Yup, her job was sheer torture.

  After she’d showered and changed, Dawn walked into the gym lobby. Leland was there, chatting with Chad again. Dawn’s eyebrows rose because Chad didn’t generally train late on Friday or Saturday. Since most of his clients were sports crazy, they spent their weekends at games or at bars watching games.

  “Dawn, honey,” Chad said, making her teeth grit at the patronizing endearment. “Lee and I were just talking about what a tough workout you gave him. I told him, ‘No pain, no gain.’”

  Dawn stopped herself from rolling her eyes but she couldn’t resist saying, “He gave one hundred and ten percent.”

  Chad slapped Leland on the shoulder. “That’s what I’m talking about, man. Hey, you two want to go have a beer at Arthur’s? The Jets are playing tonight and the screen there is ginormous. You almost feel like you’re at the game.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got to get home,” she said without offering a further excuse.

  “I have to get back to my office,” Leland said, his smile regretful. “Big project due next week. But let me take a rain check, if I could.”

  “You got it, buddy.” Chad gave his shoulder another slap.

  “It’s dark so I’ll walk you to your car,” Leland said to Dawn.

  “No car,” she said. “I live close by so I’m good.”

  “I’d be glad to walk you home then,” he said.

  “Thanks but no.” She didn’t want Chad to wonder if they were anything more than trainer and client. And she would never allow a client to come with her to her apartment building. “See you tomorrow.”

  Leland accompanied her to the door and held it for her. “Till tomorrow.”

  She turned toward her apartment because she figured Chad might remember which way she usually went. Leland took the hint and turned in the opposite direction.

  A moment later, a text pinged into her phone: Wait just around the corner two blocks from the gym and I’ll pick you up.

  She texted back a brief agreement and slowed her pace so she wouldn’t have to loiter for too long. She preferred to keep moving when outside alone, even in a safe neighborhood like this one. She knew how quickly a peaceful situation could turn ugly. The sun had dropped behind the brick buildings that lined the street, casting shadows on the sidewalk while the sky turned deep blue.

  Reaching the corner, she sauntered slowly down the cross street and stopped to admire the flowers in the window of a closed florist’s shop. A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she turned to see Chad striding across the street she’d just come from. If he was planning to go to Arthur’s, he should be headed for the gym’s staff parking lot to get his car. He was going in the opposite direction. She frowned and moved into the shadow of a sidewalk tree as she watched him until he walked out of her view.

  Maybe he’d changed his mind when he couldn’t find company to watch the game with. Or maybe he was up to something nefarious. She shook her head. She just didn’t buy Chad as a criminal genius. Maybe the heavily muscled sidekick for one, though. That made her shoulders tense up.

  She nearly shrieked when a limousine stopped at the curb beside her and the door swung open. Leland got out and extended his hand for her gym bag. “Did we fool Chad?” he asked.

  “I don’t know but he didn’t appear to have seen me.” She passed him her duffel but pretended not to notice the other hand he held out to help her into the limo.

  Leland slid onto the leather seat beside her and placed her bag beside his on the expanse of carpeted floor in front of them. He stretched out his long legs, now encased in his usual jeans, and crossed them at the ankles. He had changed shoes to a pair of black sneakers that she happened to know cost more than $1,000. Her job wore out sneakers fast so she was always browsing the latest styles. “What do you mean he didn’t see you?” he asked.

  “I just saw him on foot, headed away from where his car should be parked in the staff lot. He probably changed his mind about going to the bar since he couldn’t convince anyone to go with him.”

  “That’s certainly plausible.” Leland went silent for a moment. “You shouldn’t be involved any further in this matter.”

  “You’re thinking of what happened with Alice and Derek.” Thank God Alice had paid attention in the self-defense class Dawn had talked her into joining.

  “It’s difficult not to.” He drummed his fingers on his knee for a moment. “Where shall I tell the driver to go?”

  “Oh, right.” She raised her voice. “We’re going to Carmella’s. It’s on the corner of Broad and Belleville.”

  The driver nodded and the limo slid away from the curb.

  “Italian?” Leland asked.

  “We’re in Jersey so, yeah, Italian.” Carmella’s was a real throwback with red-and-white-checked tablecloths, candles set in Chianti bottles coated with wax drippings, Frank Sinatra crooning in the background, and Carmella presiding over the kitchen with a Neapolitan accent and an iron hand. Might as well show Leland the kind of folks she came from.

  “Time for some carb loading?” he asked. She had angled herself into the corner of the seat so she caught a flash of smile in the dim illumination cast by Cofferwood’s streetlights.

  “No, I just like Carmella’s lasagna.”

  His smile disappeared. “What moved up the timetable for our . . . research?”

  “Vicky decided to pay attention to the problem. I talked her into delaying a visit from her computer geeks until Monday. They’re not very good but I figure they still might gum up the works.”

  Leland muttered something that sounded like a curse. She could read tensi
on in the clench of his jaw and the rigidity of his shoulders.

  “You don’t have to deal with this,” she said. “Vicky’s guys will chase away whoever it is and the gym’s tech will go back to normal. I only got involved because Ramón has been very good to me, and I don’t want to see anything damage the gym’s reputation. It’s not a problem as long as the dark node moves somewhere else.”

  He shook his head, making his lenses flash with reflected light. “This has a criminal stench and I can’t walk away from that. But you can.” He turned toward her. “Let me work on this by myself. I’ll bring Tully in on it as soon as I have something more concrete. He’ll know who to contact in law enforcement, if necessary.”

  “How are you going to get something more concrete?” She crossed her arms and shot him a challenging look.

  He shifted on his seat. “Where is the router for the gym?”

  “In Ramón and Vicky’s office. I have plausible access. You don’t.”

  The limo glided to a stop. “We’re here, sir,” the driver said.

  Dawn had forgotten all about the third person in the car. But then she didn’t spend much time in limos. In fact, none since her high school prom. How much had the driver heard? Could he be trusted?

  Leland looked pissed but not about the driver. “You are not going into that office on a spying mission.” His tone held no trace of southern charm. “I’ll find a way to get in alone.”

  “You’ve got only two days to do it, so that’s not realistic.” She reached for her gym bag.

  “Are you bailing on our dinner?” She heard disappointment, sending her heart into a flutter.

  “No, I’ve got the wine in my duffel.” She unzipped it and pulled out two bottles of Barolo that she’d splurged on big-time. If Leland wore $1,000 sneakers, he wasn’t going to be happy with Two-Buck Chuck wine. “Around here, it’s BYOB in most restaurants. It’s a good thing because you can afford better wine with your meal.”

  She winced as she realized how meaningless that would be to Leland.

  He took the bottles from her, turning one to read the label. “I’m more of a beer drinker but I’ve heard of Barolo.”

  Shock made her stare. He didn’t drink overpriced wine on his expense account? “Don’t you have to take clients out to dinner and stuff?”

  “Not if I can avoid it.”

  Her perspective on him tilted.

  She suddenly noticed that the driver had already opened her door and stood patiently waiting for her to get out. “Sorry,” she muttered, scrambling sideways.

  She remembered to make sure her feet were on level ground before she stood up. She wore black ankle boots with high stiletto heels, which required more attention to balance than her standard foot attire. She smoothed her hands down the front of her slim-cut jeans and checked that her black silk blouse was still buttoned up so that the lace edge of her bra didn’t show. The silk was so slippery that the buttons had a tendency to slip out of their holes at inopportune moments. However, she had decided to risk it since this was her first dinner with Leland and she didn’t have a lot else fancy to wear.

  She watched him stride around the limo with a bottle of wine in each hand, the muscles that she now knew so well outlined by his dark-blue T-shirt. The way light slid over the fabric made her think that he hadn’t bought it in a three-for-nineteen-dollars deal. “What kind of beer do you like?” she asked.

  He stopped. “I’m good with wine. I should get more familiar with it anyway.”

  “I’m just curious about the beer.”

  He opened his arms to his sides in a gesture of apology. “I hate to admit it but I’m happiest with a Budweiser.”

  “Huh,” she said. “Maybe we can be friends.”

  Chapter 7

  Friends. The word felt like a smack of cold water in his face. He’d thought . . . no, he’d been sure that Dawn wanted more than that. God knows, he did. Their training sessions had ratcheted up his desire for her to the point where even the brush of her ponytail sent a jolt of arousal to his balls.

  Shifting a wine bottle to the crook of his arm, he held open the door to the restaurant and let his gaze linger on her back as she walked in front of him. Tonight she’d left her hair loose, the first time he’d seen it that way. The straight dark fall of it gleamed like satin as it swung slightly with her movement, and he wanted to feel it sifting through his fingers. He followed her tresses down to where they ended above her waist and then allowed his gaze to rove over the swell of her butt. He wanted to toss the wine bottles away and fill his palms with those delicious curves before he pulled her back to settle against his now hardening cock.

  Somewhere through the haze of his lust, he heard the hostess greet Dawn like an old friend, tell her the table was ready, and to come this way. He tore his eyes away from the sway of Dawn’s hips, so delectably wrapped in the tight denim of her jeans, and glanced around the packed, candlelit restaurant as they walked toward the back corner. Servers dressed in white shirts and black trousers sped between tables with food-filled white china plates lined up on their arms. Conversation and laughter filled the room without being overpowering. A smooth male voice sang something vaguely old-fashioned that blended with the clink of silverware and glasses. The kitchen door swung open and a spate of fast-paced Italian spilled out.

  He felt an unexpected sense of ease here. Maybe it was the aroma of hearty cuisine and the rhythm of a foreign language that almost sounded like the Spanish his mother had spoken.

  The hostess put the menus on the checked tablecloth. Leland plunked down the wine bottles so he could pull out the chair for Dawn. He wanted the excuse to get close enough to inhale her scent through the admittedly mouthwatering smell of the food. He bent as she sat and filled his lungs with her. His cock twitched.

  As he settled in the chair across from her, Dawn leaned forward. “I asked for a corner table so we could talk without worrying.”

  “Let’s put aside the espionage for now,” he said. “I’d like to focus on something pleasanter.”

  “Carmella’s food is more than pleasant. It’s fantastic.”

  He decided to take a risk. “I meant you.”

  She looked down at the closed menu lying on the table. Her skin glowed golden in the candlelight and his fingers itched to feel the texture of it.

  It took her a long moment but she finally lifted her gaze to meet his, the dark pools of her eyes catching the flicker of the flame. “As long as I can focus right back on you.” The huskiness in her voice licked through his veins.

  Not friends after all. He let his lips curl into a satisfied smile. “That’s a condition I can agree to.”

  He saw her take a deep breath, the swell of her breasts lifting the black fabric of her blouse. “So tell me where you grew up,” she said. “Somewhere down south, it sounds like.”

  A shock of surprise made him straighten in his chair. He hadn’t expected a question reaching back into his childhood. None of the other women he’d dated had been interested in more than his current status as a successful businessman. Maybe that was why those relationships hadn’t lasted.

  “I grew up in Atlanta, Georgia.” Short and revealing nothing.

  “That explains the sexy southern drawl.” She gave him a provocative little smile that stroked right down to his gut. “Where did you go to school?”

  Relief surged at the interruption as a server walked up with a corkscrew to open the Barolo. Dawn called the waitress by name and asked about her baby while Leland debated how brief he could continue to keep his answers.

  As soon as the server left, Leland said, “I went to public school until the ninth grade. After that I attended Burnes-Fielding Academy.” He lifted the glass and took a sip, rolling the Barolo over his tongue while he culled some memories of a wine-tasting class he’d taken while at business school. “I detect notes of oak, tannin, and leather, but mostly fermented grapes.”

  Dawn wrinkled her nose. “Why would anyone want wine to taste like le
ather?” She swirled the garnet-colored liquid in her glass before she took a sip. “I’m with you on the fermented grapes, but really good ones.” She set her glass down. “Did you live at Burnes-Fielding Academy?”

  His attempt at diversion hadn’t worked. “Fair is fair. You have to tell me where you went to school.”

  Her gaze flicked away and back so quickly that he almost missed it. “Public school all the way. My family lived a couple of towns over from here and the public schools were good there. The regional high school was only okay.”

  “Bigger isn’t always better,” he said.

  “It was a financial thing for the towns around here,” she said with a shrug. “The property taxes just couldn’t support a local high school. What about Burnes-Fielding?”

  “It was a private day school so I didn’t live there.” He’d had to take two buses to get to and from school, leaving at five thirty in the morning and returning home at six thirty in the evening. His mother had seen him off with a brown-bag lunch every morning, but she was often still working one of her three jobs when he got home in the evening.

  “Did you have to wear a uniform? I always thought that would be weird.”

  “A very ugly tan blazer with the school’s crest on the pocket and an even uglier brown, gold, and maroon tie. Whoever picked the school colors should have been forced to wear them for the rest of their lives.” A memory surfaced of his mother singing along to Spanish pop music on the radio while she ironed the white shirts he had to wear with the god-awful blazer.

  Dawn laughed, the music of it surprising him since she didn’t laugh often. “At least you all looked equally terrible in your ugly blazers.”

  Yet somehow they hadn’t. The rich boys, most of whom had been at the academy since pre-K, had polo ponies embroidered on their shirt pockets. Some even had their initials sewn onto the cuffs in elegant block letters. Their navy trousers were from Brooks Brothers. His were from the local thrift store. “I added black-rimmed nerd glasses to complete the ensemble, so I earned the worst-dressed prize.” He said it in a light tone, passing off the remembered pain as a joke.