by Cathy Pegau
I let a hint of petulance tinge my voice. “What?”
He grunted softly, in acceptance of my agreement or in my acknowledgement of his moral superiority. “Depositions from you and Calderon. They can be recorded rather than in person, but I want them.”
My mouth dropped open. Did Sterling want our statements recorded in case Tonio and I didn’t make it to an actual trial? Maybe a name change, data wipe and new location wouldn’t be enough to protect us from the Greys if we testified. “Why not just put pulsers in their hands and point them at our heads? As it is, it won’t take a genius to figure out who screwed them.”
He jabbed the table with one finger as he spoke. “All the i’s have to be dotted to put them away, and that means depositions are better than an anonymous informant’s lead. I promise you and Calderon will be safe, even from the Greys’ outside associates. You have my word.”
He seemed so damn sure of himself, so sure of his justice system. So sure everyone would play by the rules. But what choice did I have? Simple answer: None.
My stomach cramped. “Your word. That’s not particularly comforting, considering the Greys.”
“It’s the best I can offer.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Negotiations were closed. “Do we have a deal?”
I stared down at the picture on the handheld. Tonio was smiling and I was laughing at something. If this blew up in my face, neither of us would have reason to smile or laugh for the next thirty to fifty years. If we lived that long.
I rubbed my temple again, wishing Tonio was here to help me sort through this mess. But Sterling had pegged me as the weak link. So had Willem. I was living up to both their predictions. I’d lost objectivity and, like Cal, should have quit after the botched Milchner job.
My head swam as coffee and pastry curdled in my stomach.
Sterling turned off the handheld and returned it to his pocket. When he withdrew his hand, a thin, rectangular piece of blue plastic, smaller than my Exeter ID card, was between his thumb and forefinger. He slid it in front of me. “My digits. Call me when you have the information. I’ll come for you and Calderon.”
Once I accepted, there’d be no going back. Hell, who was I kidding? There’d been no going back for weeks. I put the card in my coat pocket.
Sterling rose and buttoned his coat. “I’ll take care of the bill. You’d better get to work.”
I glanced up from the table, expecting to see a smug grin on his face. He wasn’t grinning, but there was a hard glint of triumph in his eyes. “And Olivia? If you screw me over, the Greys might accidentally learn we talked. I don’t think you want that.”
Bile raced up my throat almost too fast for me to swallow it back. My sinuses burned. “You bastard.”
I should have known even the “good guys” weren’t always good.
“Just something for you to think about. I’ll get the Greys eventually, whether you’re loyal to them or not.” He shrugged. “Makes no difference to me in the end.”
His only concern was getting the job done. I had to give him credit for accomplishing something I couldn’t this time around.
Unable to move from my seat, I watched Sterling leave the café and hail a taxi. He zoomed off to who knew where, but I was sure he wouldn’t be far.
People passed the window as snow drifted down. Flakes adhered to the warm plasti-glass, melting and dripping to the walkway. The world became a shimmering scene of muted light and bits of color.
What had just happened here? How had I lost control so easily? I felt like one of those old-fashioned marionettes, with others jerking my strings, making me dance to a tune I didn’t like. It was a tune Tonio wasn’t going to like either.
Tonio. Imagining how he’d react when I told him what I’d done made me wince. He didn’t always agree with Willem, but would he understand if I explained about Sterling’s picture and his incriminating information? About Sterling’s threat to tell the Greys I’d double-crossed them? Not just “I” but “we.” Because if Sterling got word to the Greys that I was disloyal, Willem would probably consider Tonio guilty by association.
I had to take the chance that Tonio would believe this was the only option. For me. For him. And if we lived through this, would he be so angry he’d never want to see me again? Could our tentative friendship survive my betrayal?
What had I gotten us into?
A vibrating buzz against my outer thigh shook me from my thoughts. I fished inside my coat pocket for my handheld and glanced at the ID. Zia. The chrono at the bottom of the screen read 0943. Damn. I’d been sitting there for over an hour.
I tapped the “Audio-only” icon and held the device closer to my mouth. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?” There was more concern than irritation in her voice.
My chest twinged. No, I wasn’t all right, and neither would she be once this was over. Zia’d been on the losing side of this game since day one, only she didn’t even know she was playing.
I considered telling her I was ill and wouldn’t be in. Not much of a lie there.
“Just running late,” I said, making my tone as chipper as I could. “I’ll be right up.”
“Good. I’ve got a new project for you.” She disconnected.
My entire body felt leaden as I stood to leave. A new project, Zia? Get in line.
On my way to the Exeter building I started to comm Tonio but put the thing back into my pocket. Being overheard, or the possibility that either of our comms was bugged, made for a good excuse to delay the inevitable conversation. I’d wait until later and tell him face-to-face. He deserved that much from me.
In the lobby I glanced at the security desk before heading to the elevator. Chaz wasn’t on duty there, though he was scheduled to work today. The coffee shop where I spoke to Sterling was two blocks away, but he could have seen us on his way in. God help me if he had. What would I tell the Greys if they asked about my coffee date? Good question. I worked on answers as I rode the elevator.
Zia was sitting at my desk when I arrived at the office. I’m not sure what expression I wore, but whatever she saw made her cock her head. “Liv, what’s the matter?”
I gave myself a mental shake and adjusted my demeanor to be a bit more animated. “Nothing,” I said as I walked to the closet. “Just surprised to see you there.”
She rose, smoothed her ivory blouse and chocolate-brown skirt and detached a data stick from the computer console. “I was downloading some files I’d worked on at home.” She smiled and held up a hand, palm out, as if taking a vow. “I swear I didn’t disturb any of your well-organized folders, just added a new one. I know how particular you are.”
I shrugged. “You can do whatever you want. But why didn’t you use your computer?”
She made a disgusted face. “Something’s wrong with it. It was fine yesterday, but today it’s being balky.” Uh-oh. Did my little gizmo have anything to do with that? “The techs are doing a remote check.”
I nodded as I hung my coat and satchel. Hopefully they wouldn’t find any evidence of my copying. That’s all I’d need today. I shut the closet door and found Zia standing an arm’s length away. She looked at me with such intensity my body came to an immediate simmer. How did she do that?
“I was worried,” she said softly. “After last night, I was afraid you wouldn’t come in.”
What if I’d obtained everything Willem wanted and hadn’t come in? What if she learned I’d only been there to steal from her? What would she have felt then? Certainly not concerned. More like hurt and angry. Very angry. But that particular scenario had been postponed for now.
“About that, Zia. I wanted to apologize.”
Her eyebrows knit together in a slight frown. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I started things I shouldn’t have, in a place I shouldn’t have.” Then something gleamed in her green eyes, and she gave me a smile I could have stared at all day. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Wanna bet?
Playing the part o
f nervous ingénue, my voice wavered when I spoke. “It’s just that…” It’s just that what? That I hadn’t meant to actually want her when I set out to seduce her?
She shook her head. “I’m not going to apologize for my feelings, and you shouldn’t apologize for yours.”
My throat closed at the sincerity in her voice. I considered recanting my words and actions from last night, telling Zia I’d been drunk, or tired, or had been taken over by aliens. But she’d know I was lying. Well, about that anyway, because we’d spent too many days touching and stealing glances for any denial to ring true. Besides, I had to use this—use her—to finish the job.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this; I was supposed to follow Rule Number One. I hated myself for what I was doing to her, but now there was no choice.
It was, in no uncertain terms, a lose-lose situation.
“You caught me off-guard when you told me you’d never been with a woman,” Zia said with a wry smile. “There’s a lot of…pressure when you’re asked to be someone’s first. That’s one reason I pulled away.”
I moistened my lips and the look in her eyes heated as she watched my mouth. “And the other?” I asked.
“I told you last night. I like you, Liv. I like working with you. I like talking to you.” She took a half step closer. Her jasmine scent wafted toward me, and I had to breathe through my mouth. Or get totally lost. “Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself by saying this, but I think there can be more to us than an office affair.”
There could be, I thought as my chest ached, if I wasn’t here to screw over you and Exeter.
She tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. Her fingertips brushed my temple; I trembled. “Am I wrong?”
I’d learned early on that Zia rarely asked questions she didn’t know, or at least suspect, the answer to. She was sure I felt the same way, which meant I’d played my part better than I’d thought. But how much of me was still playing?
“No,” I told her, my voice thick.
Her smile grew as she slid her hand to the back of my neck, drawing me closer. I closed my eyes and tilted my head. The kiss was chaste, a light touch of our lips that sent electricity through me.
Willem and Sterling were right when they’d pegged me as the weak link. My weakness was standing in front of me, kissing me, telling me everything I needed to hear, offering something I couldn’t have. And we were both going to pay for it.
Zia broke the kiss and moved her hand to the side of my neck. I opened my eyes. Her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but smile back despite how horrid I felt.
“Let’s do this right then,” she said stroking my jaw with her thumb.
My heart spasmed, but I hid the wince of pain. “Which means?”
She winked as she lowered her hand. “You’ll see.” She strutted toward her office, hips swaying and heels silent on the thick carpet. “In the meantime, we have work to do. There are new data files on your unit I need organized for the meeting in Hudson tomorrow. Can you get them to me before lunch?”
“In Hudson?” A mental recall of her schedule noted the meeting with Hudson’s engineers was supposed to be here.
Zia stopped in the doorway and turned around. “I decided to go there rather than have a conference call. See some of the site for myself. I arranged it this morning on my way in and sent you a note to reschedule the rest of the week’s meetings.”
Zia preferred face-to-face meets over comm calls, and I think she enjoyed returning to her roots, if just for a few days. Her career began as an assistant site engineer at a smaller Exeter operation. From what she’d told me, it was hard but satisfying work. More hands-on than the exec she’d become.
Too bad she hadn’t decided to rearrange things sooner. I could have slipped into her office while she was away and copied the files without my libido gumming things up. Then again, those files were useless. It wasn’t her office I needed to access.
“So can I get that data before twelve-hundred?” she asked.
“Not likely,” I said faking a grin. The pain of what I was doing to her still hung in my chest, but I had to act like everything was going to be all right. “It’s nearly ten. I can probably get it to you by fourteen-hundred.”
“That’s fine.”
She rested a hand against the doorframe. I waited for her to continue, but she just studied me for several moments, an odd expression on her face. It wasn’t lust or desire; I’d seen those from her. This was more like…wonder. No one had ever looked at me like that before.
My cheeks warmed under her gaze. “Was there something else?”
Zia gave herself a little shake and smiled. “No, just thinking.”
Before I could ask about what, the comm trilled. As I crossed to my desk to answer it, she turned and went into her office.
The rest of the day was as normal as it could be, considering every time I let myself think about the Greys or Sterling or Tonio I felt a little nauseous. Zia and I kept it professional after the kiss by the closet, even when we were alone. No extracurricular touching during business hours was the unspoken rule. However, she wasn’t opposed to giving me a small, secretive smile now and again. And I had to admit, it made me flush and smile back.
Until I remembered what I was there for, what I would be doing to her in the very near future. When that happened, I threw myself into work and tried to appear as if the strain tightening my jaw was in concentration rather than dismay.
On the plus side, the technicians fixed Zia’s SI and didn’t come screaming about security breaches or unauthorized access. Thank goodness for small miracles, though goodness, in the astute words of some twentieth-century sage, had nothing to do with it.
Late that afternoon I spent over an hour and a half checking on last-minute equipment requests and data sets going to Hudson with Zia. Most of that time, a technician and I searched for something called an ore spectrum analyzer. Apparently the instrument was standard at all mining sites, but Zia wanted the latest model. All I knew was, it was on the list and it had to go with her. The lab tech eventually found it after I made a few overt threats to his position and more subtle threats to his well-being.
With both hard and electronic copies of the inventory list in hand, and a headache taking root behind my right eye, I navigated the warren of corridors to the elevator. Luckily the building design included “here-o-glyphs” to help those of us who had forgotten to drop breadcrumbs when we came down to the lab levels. The little electronic signs on the walls showed me where I was and how to get to my destination.
As I turned a corner, the corpulent form of Henry Clemens, COO, ambled ahead of me. This wasn’t the usual haunt of upper-level executives; there were only lowly engineers and their labs along these corridors. What was he doing down here?
Only one way to find out. I followed him.
Clemens led me on a silent game of follow-the-leader, but according to the here-o-glyph, we were headed to the elevator.
Before turning the final corner, I heard a familiar “ding” as the elevator announced its arrival.
“There you are,” Clemens snapped.
I stopped short, just out of sight. He couldn’t be talking to me. Who had he met? Zia? My heart raced, and I was sure both Clemens and whoever he was speaking to could hear it.
“What’s going on with Brighton?”
Brighton. He’d mentioned it on the bit of comm recording too, though I’d never found anything more. So it must be important. But why? I edged away from the corner, listening.
“Negligible results,” I heard Emily Pritchard say. “The filters are being overwhelmed and not self-cleaning fast enough. Saturation levels are simply too high.”
The COO grumbled something then said, “Can you increase the nanos?”
“We tried a fifteen-percent increase,” the engineer replied. “We’re still losing subjects faster than desired. Talbot wants that report in a few weeks, but I don’t think she’ll be satisfied. She’s threatening to go to th
e CMA.”
What did Zia have over them?
“She wouldn’t dare,” Clemens said in a menacing tone. “I’ll take care of her. Up the nanos another five percent. Do whatever you have to on securing subjects.”
Neither spoke for a few moments. Were they were coming my way? Shit. Rather than get caught standing there, obviously eavesdropping, I started forward while intently gazing at the list in my hand. As I rounded the corner, I looked up and appeared startled to see Pritchard and Clemens. She stood by the open doors of one of the two elevators while he’d entered the car, arms crossed.
I smiled, all admin innocent. “Mr. Clemens. Miss Pritchard. Nice to see you.”
Clemens smiled back, none the worse for wear after last night’s multiple rounds of alcohol and dress-ruining.
Before meeting my eyes, Pritchard’s gaze dropped down to her left as she brushed her blond hair behind her right ear. The same tell of nervousness exhibited in Zia’s office when she, Zia and Craig had been discussing whatever was on Zia’s SI. Pritchard and Clemens were as culpable as Zia regarding the cover-up. They’d take as much of the blame and subsequent punishment. I hoped.
“Olivia,” the COO said. “Going up?”
Pritchard watched me, poised now. She hugged a handheld to her chest, the screen pressed against her soft pink sweater.
“I’m not, sir, but thank you for asking.” I kept a genial smile plastered to my face as I pressed the “down” request on the other elevator.
Clemens nodded to me and turned to the engineer. “Get back to me on that matter right away, Emily.”
“Yes, sir.” She strode down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
“And you,” the COO said as my elevator arrived.
My heart triple-timed. Had he realized I’d been following him? “Yes, Mr. Clemens?”
He swiped his Exeter ID over the black box inside the car then winked and said, “You let me know if you’re interested in that job once James returns, hear?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” I said as the doors closed.