Secret Acquisitions

by Raleigh Davis

  I raise my eyebrows. “There’s room for a server farm?”

  A server farm is usually a ginormous room filled with computers all connected to each other, the better to increase their computational power. The room is also climate controlled at a very frosty temperature—all that processing generates a lot of heat. It’s not something you throw together.

  Doc whips out her tablet. A floor plan is on the screen. “Boom. Server farm, right there.”

  Sure enough, there’s a room labeled Server Farm on the floor. It isn’t enough space for a huge one, but it’s better than renting time on an off-site one like we’ve been.

  “Sure,” I say weakly. “Why not? We’ve got the money. Who’s going to manage it though?”

  “Don’t worry, Meryem has already said it’d be her baby.” Doc studies the floor plan, then looks up at me. Worry crosses her face. “Everything okay? You seem way too anxious about this.”

  I want to tell her that I’m still anxious, that while we have plenty of money, it still hasn’t solved the central problem of Fuchs’s evil plan and Grace. But it’s safer for Doc if she doesn’t know.

  I shrug. “Usual founder’s blues. We’re entering the Valley of Despair.”

  The Valley of Despair is what we call the few months right after a big infusion of capital, as a company comes down from the high of getting a massive pile of cash and has to get down to the dirty work of making a functional product that consumers will actually use.

  Doc blows a raspberry. “Dude, we’re already so close. Hallie got the chip prototypes back from the lab, and they’re blowing her away. Imogen’s debugging code like a fiend, and I’d say we’re ready for an alpha launch in a month. Maybe less.”

  An alpha version is the version you get before even a beta version. It’s buggy, half-finished, and not meant for anyone outside the tech bubble. But it’s still a great accomplishment.

  But a month is pretty far away.

  That’s not Doc’s concern though or anyone else’s. They’re already working to the utmost limit. “Great,” I say. “You guys are miracle workers.”

  “So are you.” Doc waggles her eyebrows. “Both with the funding and the significant other. It’s all over TidBytes.”

  I groan. “Do I want to know?”

  Doc grins. “It’s actually pretty nice. Calls you the luckiest woman in tech for securing the Bastards’ support and for snaring Mark Taylor. There’s a nice picture of you two leaving some bar in the Marina.” Doc can’t help her instinctive shudder—her loathing for that neighborhood is stronger than her happiness for me.

  “It was a nice bar.”

  “Lord, spare me from nice bars. But listen.” She goes very serious. “Is this all… legit with Mark? Not that you’re faking,” she says quickly, “but is everything okay with you two and him funding the company and all that? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  I swallow hard. Doc instantly wraps me in her arms.

  “It’s okay,” I say, sniffling. “I’m just touched is all.”

  “I’m serious. If you’re only with him for the money, we don’t need it that bad.”

  “We do, but that’s not why I’m with him. He’s…”

  Doc stares at me as I try to find the words. It was lust and tension before, but it feels like more. And I don’t know if it’s safe to let it be more.

  “He’s great,” I say finally, then I giggle, because it sounds so silly.

  Doc lets me go as she shakes her head. “You’re fucking gone, chica. Head over heels.” She moves to the door. “I’m here if you need me though.”

  “Thanks. But I promise I’ll be fine.”

  Doc gives me one last pat on the shoulder, and then she heads back to her workstation.

  I try to get back to work since we’re now only a month away from something big, but again I can’t focus. My mind darts from my puzzles to Mark to Grace back to my encryption program and never settles on any one thing. I’m all scrambled.

  And then my messaging app pings.

  Not the one that everyone and their mother uses—the special one I coded just for Grace, the one I disguised as a dictionary.

  Holy hell, Grace is trying to message me. I almost drop the phone I’m so eager to see what she’s written.

  The app seems to take forever to load, the welcome screen mocking me with its blankness. And then:

  Hi.

  I want to cry and scream and laugh all at once. Grace hasn’t said a word to me for months, and she opens with hi?

  Hey yourself, I send back. How are you?

  I’m safe.

  I close my eyes and send up a prayer of thanks. Can you tell me where you are?

  No.

  Okay. I knew that was probably what she’d say, but my breath still catches sharply.

  Grace sends me another message without waiting for my reply. He’s buying every encryption company he can. He sends the employees here, to the Spiderweb.

  The Spiderweb is the code name for his spyware division.

  To do what? I ask. I don’t know if she can answer that either though.

  So he can break any encryption in use.

  He’s already planned for my attack, and he’s preemptively killing any company that can pose a threat.

  Well, he’s not getting us. I’m going to fight until the end. Thank God he only made us a private offer, one I could refuse in private. I’ll just have to keep denying him without the Bastards finding out. Fuchs’s legendary secretiveness will help me out too; he’s not going to go mouthing off about how I turned him down or even that he offered for Ultra.

  Thank you, I send to Grace. Now I know what to expect. Are we on his radar?

  We?

  Oh God, she doesn’t even know about Ultra. He must be censoring their internet access.

  I have a company. An encryption company. I started it because of…

  I don’t know how to finish that. So far, our conversation is fairly innocent or at least could be spun that way. Admitting that she sent me private documents, even over a secure line, would be stupid.

  Because of you, I finish.

  There’s a long pause. Too long.

  You can’t do that.

  Although you can’t read tone into a text message, I can sense her frustration, her fear.

  Don’t cross him—you can’t fight him. No one can. Stay quiet, keep the evidence hidden.

  There’s nothing more after that. I watch my phone for the rest of the day, hours and hours spent just staring.

  There’s nothing more.

  Then, finally, Mark shows up, a smile on his face and plans for dinner for us, and I’m forced to pretend everything is okay.

  But it’s not, and I can’t stop thinking about the danger Grace warned me about.

  Chapter 18

  I’ve lost January again.

  Well, not really lost her, but after last night—sleeping next to her and waking up with her—having her retreat back into her fear, even the tiniest bit, feels like a massive retreat.

  We’re in my dining room, having finished the food a chef I hired for the night cooked in my kitchen. I’ve got state-of-the-art everything there, not that I ever cook myself. But it allows me to eat amazing home-cooked meals without lifting a finger.

  “You sure everything’s okay?” I ask. I point to her dessert plate. “You’ve hardly touched your chocolate torte.”

  She pokes at it with her spoon, regret pulling her brows together. “No, it’s fantastic, I’m just…”

  Tired is what I expect her to finish with, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sets the spoon aside with a sigh. When she lifts her gaze to mine, the vulnerability in her blue eyes staggers me.

  “January, honey.” I reach across the table for her hand. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

  She doesn’t deflect or shutter her gaze. If anything, it becomes more open, harder for me to look at without doing… something. But if I don’t know what’s upsetting her, I can’t do anything. />
  I don’t do well doing nothing.

  Her lips part, and there’s a spark in her eyes, half hope, half wondering, saying Maybe, could I possibly, trust you?

  My hand tightens on hers. Of course she can. Finally she’ll be utterly open, utterly truthful, and I can chase away every last dark thought that plagues her. I want that so badly my every muscle is knotted tight except for the ones holding her hand in mine.

  Trust me.

  But I must have squeezed a little too tightly, wished a little too hard, because a flicker passes across her face as she reconsiders what she was about to say.

  Son of a bitch. But I bite that back.

  “I’m still in charge, right?” Her swallow is hard enough to clench my heart. “You and the Bastards own part of it, but Ultra is still mine, isn’t it?”

  I bring her knuckles to my lips and am rewarded with her silky shiver. “Of course. No one’s taking anything from you.”

  If anything, I’ve been gentler with January than any other founder I’ve worked with. I’ve been known to force people out, to require certain hires, even to bring in entirely new management, all the better to get my money’s worth.

  But January has nothing to worry about. Her team is top-notch, and she runs it well. The things I’m bringing in are only to make it better.

  “When it comes time to sell, I won’t be forced into anything?”

  That she’s made that a question kills me. “No. There won’t be any forcing of anything.” I study her expression, which is still tight. “I’m here to help you, not force you.”

  The tip of her tongue slips out to wet her lips, and my thoughts scramble for a moment.

  “I don’t feel forced,” she says finally. “But there are certain places I don’t want to work.”

  “Like where?”

  She’s got very specific names in mind—I can tell by the twitch of her eyelids.

  “It’s not the places themselves,” she says. “I only want to know that I’m not losing control here.”

  She is and so am I, but not in the way she’s thinking. “I’m not taking your baby away from you. Can we make a deal?” I smile, trying to reassure her. “You worry about the encryption, and I’ll worry about the deal. That’s my specialty. And you still own the majority of shares. Nothing happens without your approval.”

  Her nod is soft, slow. Finally I’m getting through to her. “You’re right. I should finish the system first, then worry about those things.”

  “Don’t worry about those things.” I rub her knuckles and down her fingers, trying to push away her worries. “In any deal I make, you’ll be my first consideration. Let me do what I do best.”

  My main consideration, I realize with a start. I don’t care so much about getting a return on my investment as making sure January gets everything she ever wanted out of this deal.

  No one can ever know though—it’d be hell for my reputation.

  “Okay.” Her smile is brave and fond all at once as she reaches across the table to cup my cheek.

  Jesus, the tenderness in her touch makes me want to melt into her. And I don’t melt. I can’t, because I have to keep her safe.

  “This is all so new,” she says, caressing my cheekbone. “I’m trying to figure out what it all means.”

  That does make me melt, or at least my heart does. “Me too,” I confess.

  I reach into my jacket, which is hanging off the back of my chair, and pull out the velvet box I’d been holding safe for her. For this very perfect moment.

  She peers at it with a hint of suspicion, like she can’t really believe that box holds what she thinks it does. “What is that?”

  “A little congratulation gift.”

  She sniffs as she opens it slowly. “Little? Maybe in size only.” When the lid snaps all the way open, her gasp warms me from the inside out.

  Inside is a diamond tennis bracelet and matching earrings. It’s not ostentatious since I want her to be able to wear them always, but the diamonds are the highest grade, and they’re nestled in a soft rose gold setting. Yellow gold would have been too harsh for her pale skin and platinum too cold, but this gold is perfect.

  I can see the sparkle of the diamonds in her eyes, along with her happy shock.

  “I can take it back,” I say when she still hasn’t spoken.

  She snatches them to her chest with a mock snarl. “Don’t you dare.” Uncertainty creeps in. “But… but why? They’re almost too fancy to wear.”

  “Nonsense.” I rise, then gently pry the box out of her hand. The bracelet slips around her wrist as if made just for her, which it is. “You deserve these.”

  She holds her wrist close to her heart, admiring the gleam of the jewelry. I take the opportunity to slip one of the earrings in, her earlobe as soft as anything. Something so tender shouldn’t be able to hold the cold weight of these earrings, but it does, easily. And in a few moments, her skin will warm the metal.

  “I really haven’t done anything.” But she tilts her head so I can put in the other earring.

  When I’m done, I lean back to admire her. Just as I’d planned, the diamonds are perfect for her, enhancing her beauty rather than overwhelming it. And since she can wear it everywhere, a reminder of me will be with her always.

  “How do I look?” She reaches up a single fingertip to touch one of the diamonds in her ears.

  “Gorgeous.” I pull her up from her chair and swing her up into my arms. “I want you to wear them for me tonight. Those and nothing else.”

  She answers me with a kiss, deep and needy but also thankful.

  I answer her back exactly the same as I carry her off to my bed.

  Chapter 19

  I was this close to telling Mark the entire truth last night, and all day I’ve been second-guessing myself.

  I touch one of my earrings, the polished surface of the diamond and the skin-warmed gold calming me. I’m vibrating out of my skin today, what with twenty-four hours between me and Grace’s message.

  Keep quiet. Keep the evidence hidden.

  Too damn late for that. I’ve gone and built an entire encryption system out of what Grace gave me. Which I probably should tell Mark about at some point.

  Scratch that—I have to tell Mark about it, before we get into serious talks about selling Ultra. He said that I would be his first consideration in any deal. Which means he’d be willing to listen to my objections to selling to Corvus if they offer.

  Only, how would I make him believe me? I could show him the documents Grace sent, but she said to keep it hidden. How much more danger would she be in if Mark knew?

  If I told him, I could put some of this strain and worry onto Mark’s shoulders instead of carrying it all on my own. He’s strong enough to take it. Based on what he said last night, I believe he wants to take it.

  He wants to be on my side. I simply have to take those last few steps and trust him completely. I want to, but…

  I sigh and try to focus. There really is no time today for me to get wrapped up in this. We’ve finished a ton of testing overnight, and now I’m going line by line through code, tweaking here and debugging there. My team is counting on me to do this today and do it right, and I can’t let them down.

  Mark is coming by to discuss the test results too. I’ve already got half a list of the items we need to talk about, and I add another note every few lines of code.

  Every second my mind isn’t occupied with the task, it darts off into anxiety land, taking dark paths into the forest of holy fuck, what have I done?

  And then I pull it back into the code for a while before it takes off again.

  I grab the paper cup of coffee on my desk and take a long sip. It’s three in the afternoon, and that’s cup number six for me. Sleep isn’t happening tonight.

  Thank God I know Mark will have just the ticket for relaxing me. It worked last night, but once I came down off the high of three orgasms in a row, I felt guilty for forgetting my troubles while he was working
me over, making me forget my own damn name.

  And yet I need him as much as I need to finish this code or this entire encryption system. Everything in my life—him, the company, Grace—is getting bound together in an unbreakable way.

  Awesome job, January. I thought you were going to keep things simple?

  I write down yet another thing to bring up with Mark and tell myself to shut up. Things were never going to be simple with him.

  When the front door opens, I almost don’t jump out of my seat. If I weren’t high enough on caffeine that I could see my nerves sparking behind my eyes, I probably wouldn’t have.

  As it is, I’m shaking before Mark even walks in.

  “Great news.” He claps his hands as he comes toward my cubicle. Everyone in Ultra is smiling, because Mark only ever brings good things. And if he has great news…

  Somehow I can’t make myself buy it. Something feels off.

  There’s a woman behind him, wearing a thin, superior smile. She’s dressed like a corporate shark, briefcase in hand, makeup and jewelry just understated enough to let you know that yes, she is that effortlessly stylish.

  I immediately want to kick her out. She’s not here for anything good, no matter what Mark says.

  Instead, I rise and walk out, a fake polite smile on my lips. Thank God the clothes Mark ordered for me today are structured and sharp. Warrior garb for a twenty-first-century shield maiden.

  “Hi.” I reach out a hand to the woman. “I’m January Harris, the founder of Ultra.”

  The woman’s gaze flicks over my hand before she takes it. “Minerva Dyne. Corvus Technologies.”

  She doesn’t say what she does for Corvus, but the name alone is enough to give me chills.

  Fuchs’s found out about… something. Maybe the documents Grace passed to me or the messaging app I sent her. Or even worse, our messages.

  I brace myself for something awful.