by Ravenna Tate
Three months ago, Julianne had listened to Isabelle go on and on about all the hiring for new teams taking place not only at Bannerman Investments, but at all the companies the Weathermen owned, and Julianne asked her to dig around. When Isabelle found out why each of the men was hiring covert teams, Julianne knew she had to do the story.
“So how many people has he hired for this new team?” asked Julianne.
“None yet, but he’s been interviewing. I’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re all taking their time with these teams.”
Isabelle, along with dozens of administrative assistants, pulled work from a queue and so could end up seeing correspondence from any department in the building. Because Julianne had asked her to keep an eye on the new team, Isabelle cherry-picked her work in the queue now, grabbing any work from HR that she could find. They were too busy for anyone to notice what she was doing unless someone specifically went looking for it.
“He looks different than he did five years ago,” said Julianne. “More mature.”
Isabelle snorted. “Mature? He’s a forty-one year old man who dresses like a twenty-something, he’s straight, and he’s not married or engaged. What does that tell you?”
Julianne swallowed the food in her mouth, but before she could answer, Isabelle spoke again.
“It tells you he’s a player. Didn’t you notice today how most of the workers on his floor are female?”
“I didn’t have the opportunity to see inside the other departments.”
“Well, next time do it. He likes to look at them all day.”
Julianne resisted the urge to smile. Isabelle knew nothing about her having seduced Kane five years ago. From what she’d seen today, he dressed fine. As far as him being a player, she couldn’t base that judgment on what they’d done in his office. People can and do change.
If he was dating around, he kept it secret. There was nothing about him in the tabloids, and she hadn’t found too many photos of him at events outside of work. She’d pegged him as someone who was devoted to his company, and who kept to himself a lot.
There was one way to find out. “Has he asked you out?”
Isabelle nearly choked on the sip of chai tea she’d just taken. “Um … he did once, but I turned him down.”
She’s lying. Isabelle glanced everywhere but into Julianne’s eyes, and the slight tremor in her voice gave her away. Julianne could spot a lie instantly, and her heart went out to this woman. Had she asked him out and been turned down? Or had he completely ignored her? “I’m surprised he’d even consider dating an employee.”
“They all do that. Emmett Radcliffe is engaged to Liane Peyton. He hired her to build the database where the twelve of them pool their names and other information. Dominic Greco’s new team member, Angela Davidson, spends more time working in his apartment with him than they both do at the office. And Ace Easton is getting married in a couple of months to Harper Mathews, who used to be one of his PR analysts. She’s now part of his not-so-secret hacker team.”
“Why is it not so secret?”
Isabelle’s dark eyes gleamed, and she leaned forward. “Because one of the names they uncovered as a potential player in the gang that sent The Madeline Project rogue used to work for him, on the same team. The rumor now is that this same man is using new code names to infiltrate the companies of all the Weathermen, or trying to at any rate, and is hell bent on exposing them and their secret teams.”
Julianne shivered, but it wasn’t from the possibility of an even bigger story. Isabelle’s words had a nasty, dark quality to them, as if what she’d just told her was dangerous. “How do you know all this?”
“Internal memos. The man’s name is on a watch list that’s been given high priority.”
Julianne tried to keep her voice nonchalant. “What’s his name?”
“Rob Marin. He used a bunch of code names having to do with snakes, but they caught onto that too quickly. Now they believe they’ve tracked him down under the names BreakingGlass and RisingWater.”
“Storm-associated names. How unoriginal.”
“Well, he wasn’t too bright to begin with. From what I’ve been able to gather, he tried to manipulate system logs to frame Harper because she wouldn’t go out with him, but he didn’t realize they had fail-safes that prevented him from completely changing them. That’s how he was caught.”
“Wouldn’t someone with hacking skills know that?”
“Not necessarily. We’re talking about highly complex coding that most of these twelve designed on their own to protect their data. It’s not something they taught in any class because it’s unique to their systems. You have to be in their IT departments to learn it.”
How does she know all this? “Your degree is in IT, right? You sound too intelligent to be working in a glorified steno pool.”
Isabelle laughed. “No shit. I’ve been telling them that for two years. I only took this job in the hopes of landing a position in IT one day. You know how it is with those now. Everyone has the same degrees. The competition is crazy.”
“I’m sure you have a great shot at it since you already work for them.”
“That was the plan.” Isabelle glanced at her phone. “Shit. I have to run. Don’t want to be late getting back from lunch. Our department supervisor, Dean the pervert, watches shit like that obsessively.”
Julianne took her time walking back to the building that housed the offices of UTU. She needed time to process everything Isabelle had said today. There were more unsettling things she’d mentioned than tidbits of useful information Julianne was willing to use, and that wasn’t par for the course with Isabelle. Had something changed recently? Was it safe to keep using her as a source?
Obviously Isabelle had either asked Kane out or flirted with him, and he’d rejected her. Had that been recently? Was that why she sounded so bitter today?
Julianne took out her recorder and repeated the key words about Rob Marin and his silly new code names. She needed to dig a bit deeper into that story. If what Isabelle said was true, he might be trying to sabotage their networks, and Kane would want to know that.
The engagements of Ace Easton and Emmett Radcliffe were something she could have read online, but how did Isabelle know that Angela Davidson spent so much time at Dominic Greco’s apartment? Both lived in CentralWest, clear on the other side of the country. That information surely wouldn’t be on a company memo or in correspondence between departments.
As far as Isabelle’s knowledge of code and how IT security worked, she’d likely picked that up in school, but Julianne had never heard her talk so freely about it before. Maybe she should have given Kane Isabelle’s name after all? Julianne was wary of using her again. Something odd was going on, and she wanted to find out what it was.
Maybe the real story at Bannerman Investments had nothing to do with Kane?
****
While Julianne waited for the outcome of Kane’s meeting with the other Weathermen on Friday, Patti asked Julianne to do a story on the IT programs at NorthEast University. Patti started to apologize, saying it was due by early next week and she normally wouldn’t spring something like this on a reporter, but the person to whom it was assigned was ill and couldn’t finish it.
Julianne jumped at the chance because it would put her in front of people who might know more about Kane’s business. Unfortunately, when she arrived Wednesday morning to conduct the interview, she was shuffled off to a graduate assistant closer to her age than Kane’s, and the information he gave her could have been found on her own. She asked questions designed to elicit the kind of information she knew Patti would want, but he wasn’t able to answer them.
The only useful tidbit she picked up was that the system the Weathermen had designed was mentioned in nearly every coding class at the graduate level. They didn’t teach it, per se, as it was proprietary information, but they did use the basic model as an example.
Julianne smiled at him just enough to entice him to
print off a syllabus or two, and a few examples of the system they’d been given permission to use by Kane himself. She would file those away and examine them later when she dug around in Rob Marin’s background a bit more.
She managed to put together a decent piece, and Patti said it would have to do for now, but suggested she try to do a follow up by asking Kane directly for more information. Julianne smiled and told Patti she would be more than happy to do that.
By the time Friday morning came, she was on edge. She told herself that if he didn’t call or text by noon, she would contact him. He texted right before noon, and asked if she could talk.
She called him right away. “Thanks for staying true to your word. No matter the outcome of this morning’s meeting, I have a request for a follow up piece on the curriculum at NorthEast University.”
“Oh?”
Julianne outlined the story she’d done and what Patti wanted in addition to it.
“Have you abandoned your original idea, then?”
She smiled at the humor in his voice. “Not at all, but this is right up your alley and won’t require you to give away trade secrets.”
“That is true, and I would love to do it. I also want to discuss your original story plan with you, but not on the phone. How do you feel about sports?”
A shiver ran down her spine. What kind of sports was he referring to? “Excuse me?”
He laughed softly. “That question came out of nowhere, didn’t it? Let me rephrase that. How do you feel about hockey?”
“I follow it a bit.”
“Great. The NorthEast Demons play tonight at the Augusta Arena. I have a loge there. I thought we could have dinner and watch the game while we discuss these projects.”
She swallowed hard and pulled her phone away from ear for a second or two to stare at it. Was he asking her out on a date? “Um … okay. Sure. That sounds like fun. I’ve never actually been to the arena.” And I’ve certainly never been in one of the private loges.
“Do you know where it is and how to get there?”
“Yes.” It was on the other side of town, and she knew one of the trolley cars went straight to it because several people she worked with had season tickets to every sporting event there was.
“You’ll love it. Very state of the art. Shall I meet you there around six, then?”
“Sure. Okay. I’ll be there.”
“There’s an entrance for loge owners on the east side of the property. You can’t miss it. Big banner across the top. I’ll meet you there.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“So am I, Julianne.” Had his voice always sounded so sexy and intimate?
After she disconnected the call, Julianne tried to return to work, but her mind raced with endless possibilities. She finally went home because she wasn’t getting anything done. Tonight would either mean she’d soon be writing two more stories, or it would be the worst disaster of her life.
Alone in a loge with Kane Bannerman? What the fuck had she been thinking? It didn’t escape her notice that he’d given her no clue what the other Weathermen had said at the meeting. He was making her wait to find out. Shit.
Chapter Four
Kane almost called her back and offered to pick her up and take her there. What kind of a gentleman asks a woman to meet him somewhere she’s never been? This isn’t a date! Sure it wasn’t. That’s why he had already arranged to have dinner delivered to the loge, and why he planned to discuss business with her there instead of in here in his office before quitting time.
Fuck.
He ran his hands through his hair and paced behind his desk. What the hell was he doing? This was the same woman who had taken several lines of innocuous text five years ago and concocted a whopper of a story from them. It could have hurt him or his business if the retraction had not been printed, and it had pissed him off royally. He and his friends had been dodging sleazy tabloids all their adult lives. He had no respect for them, or for the people who wrote for them.
Now he had a date with one of them. Correction. Julianne used to work for one of them. She was no longer one of their reporters. Now, she was one of their former reporters who had barged her way in here on Monday and tried to convince him to go public with a covert team. Was he totally out his mind? What was this woman’s power over him?
She would not be happy when she learned what he and the others had come up with. It was still a way for her to get her story, but Kane knew it wouldn’t be close to what she wanted. She should stick to the idea he’d given her, plus this follow up piece on the curriculum at NorthEast University. He’d written some of that, and he could talk about it all day long without jeopardizing what they were trying to do in secret. Couldn’t she understand that?
He contented himself with knowing she’d understand it by the time this evening was over. Either that or he’d never hear from her again. As that thought formed, Kane knew he didn’t want that. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Julianne in five years. He was in deep shit here.
Then why didn’t you simply tell her the outcome of the meeting over the phone?
He knew exactly why. He wanted to get her alone, not try to seduce her in his office. She’d see right through it. She wasn’t stupid.
Kane slammed his hands on his desk. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was acting like a teenage boy who had never even kissed a girl. What was it about this woman that had him so rattled? He needed to get his act together and quickly.
****
Julianne changed her clothes ten times, disgusted with herself for acting like a teenage girl going out on her first real date. She finally chose the first outfit. It was a hockey game, not a formal dinner. Jeans and a sweater were appropriate. The fact that she’d also chosen her sexiest short black boots was beside the point. So was the fact that her jewelry matched the lime green and yellow accents in the sweater. Completely irrelevant.
You’re so full of shit.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, wondering whether she should do something with all that hair, and then decided to leave it alone. She wasn’t playing in the damn hockey game, after all. She was merely going to watch it.
Making sure she had two recorders this time, along with a notepad and several pens, just in case, she tossed in her small makeup bag at the last second. Better to be over prepared than to wish she’d brought something along.
Right. Because you’re not planning on staying out more than a few hours.
No, she was not planning on that. She was not going to end up spending the night with Mr. Gorgeous and his damn sexy glasses. That would not happen.
The trolley was crowded with people going to the arena, dressed in the Demon team colors of red and black. If only she’d been thinking clearly she would have worn a black sweater, but she wasn’t going back home to change her clothes. They’d be in a private loge. No one but Kane would see her.
The crowd was rowdy and fun, and she found herself smiling and laughing by the time they reached their destination. Maybe this would turn out to be more enjoyable than she’d been anticipating?
Kane was waiting for her at the entrance he’d described. He looked too damn sexy in jeans and a NorthEast Demons polo shirt. Her gaze traveled lazily over him as she walked, slowing her pace on purpose so she had time to gather her thoughts. She’d forgotten what a handsome man he was, and he looked much more relaxed in casual clothes than he had in his suit and tie at the office on Monday.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, grinning.
“Did you think I’d stand you up?”
“For a story or two? Never.”
She was about to tell him she hadn’t shown up only for the stories, but decided to keep her mouth shut for once. He held out his arm, surprising her, and she wrapped her hand around it. His skin was warm, and the memories washed over her once more. How could such a short encounter years ago still affect her so much? She was actually shocked that he hadn’t told her on Monday to go fuck herself and ne
ver show her face inside his building again. Then again, he had come close to tossing her out.
Nostalgia for games at Fenway Park overwhelmed her as they made their way inside, and she breathed in the scent of popcorn and hot pretzels. She hadn’t followed pro hockey much, but she had followed baseball. Her family came from a long line of Red Sox fans, and she had fond memories of attending games with them in her younger days.
She was one of the lucky ones. Her entire family had survived the storms and been able to get underground before things got really bad. Most of her friends hadn’t had that same experience. She glanced up at Kane as he led her to a gilt-edged elevator, guarded by a burly man in a uniform. Was his family here with him, too? What about the other Weathermen? Were they each alone under the earth, making their billions and trying to take back the planet? Or did they have loved ones to turn to for comfort and companionship?
Kane showed ID to the guard, and then he nodded toward Julianne. “She’s my date for this evening.”
His date?
The guard gave him no more than a cursory nod before stepping aside. As the doors closed, Kane leaned close and she caught a whiff of woodsy cologne. Sexy as hell, it evoked yet more memories of their forty-seven minutes in his office. This was ridiculous. It’s not as if that had been her one and only sexual encounter in twenty-eight years.
But it was the best one.
Yes. It had been the best one. No doubt about it. Would it be repeated tonight? She glanced up at him. “New guard?”
His soft laugh sent a shiver down her spine. “Have you turned into a mind reader? I was just about to say he was new. I never have to show ID.”
“You poor thing. Forced to live like the rest of us. How will you survive it?”
“I see you haven’t lost your smart mouth.”