She stepped into the bathroom and found a note taped to the mirror. Aiden’s handwriting was scrawled across the page, a big A marking the bottom.
I have an early meeting with Rhys. I’ll make it up to you. Maybe you can whip my ass at “Mario Kart” again tonight?
The note put a huge goofy grin on her face. Despite her reservations, Aiden made her feel things she hadn’t dared hope to feel again.
But the situation with Alana and the Third Planet leak weighed on her mind. Her first priority had to be solving the mystery of who the leak actually was. Until she had that information Alana could still be considered a suspect.
The idea of anything happening to her friend made her sick to her stomach.
Have you forgotten about the fact that you asked Aiden for more time? What do you expect him to say to Rhys?
She’d put him in a shitty position, that was for sure. But it would be okay. She just had to think it all through.
Water sluiced over her body as she stepped into the shower and tipped her face up to the spray. There had to be a simple solution to this assignment, some small connection that they hadn’t made.
There were too many separate elements: the game design plans, Alana’s blackmail of Christopher, the leaked game design engine, Sarah the intern, Zach Levitt’s ignored harassment behavior...
What did they all have in common?
She turned, letting the water run through her hair and down her back as she reached for the shampoo. The foam slipped through her fingers as she massaged it into her head, her mind methodically working through the information she had.
Those facts did have one thing in common—they could all hurt Walt Dixon in some way. Financial, legal and reputational damage. And Sarah...her name kept popping up in connection with all the other players.
An idea struck her. What if Alana wasn’t the only person trying to hurt Walt indirectly? Alana had gone another route because nothing she did seemed to encourage Walt to reprimand Zach. What if someone else had done the same?
She wrenched the taps off and shivered as the cool air hit her wet skin. Wrapping herself in a towel, she hunted for her phone and called Alana.
“Jeez, Quinn,” her friend’s not-so-happy greeting was cut off by a yawn. “Why are you calling so early?”
“Your friend Sarah, how did she get the job at Third Planet Studios?” Quinn put the phone on speaker and tossed it onto the bed while she dried off as quickly as possible.
“She had a connection there.” Alana’s sleep-heavy voice came through the tinny phone speakers.
“Who?”
“Uh...” Pause. “A relative, I believe.”
Quinn grabbed a pair of Superman panties from her drawer and yanked them on. “Think, Alana. This is really important.”
“I’m not sure. It could have been her aunt?”
No one at the company had the same surname as Sarah; she and Aiden would have noticed that. Hopping on one foot, she stuck her other one into the leg of her jeans. “How sure are you?”
“Kind of sure.”
“Is there anything else?” Something told her this was the key to figuring out who was behind the leak.
“Actually, yes.” Alana’s voice perked up on the other end of the phone as Quinn pulled on a bra and sweater. “I do remember. When Sarah started she made a joke about how the person who’d gotten her the job was friends with the owner and was part of the hiring process. She said she was lucky because they didn’t take on many junior programmers last year.”
Joan. The HR manager. That had to be it.
Walt had insisted on keeping the HR manager involved in the investigation because he trusted her. She knew exactly what data Quinn and Aiden were looking at and who they were talking to. Not only that, Joan controlled the information they received so it would have been easy for her to omit details on any of the reports that Aiden had requested.
If Sarah was her niece she’d have plenty of motivation to want to hurt the company.
Quinn’s gut gripped on to this new idea with iron fists. She knew she was right. Joan was leaking the information, and it probably wasn’t for financial gain. Revenge was a far stronger motivator.
But why take it out on Walt when Zachary was the one who’d attacked her niece? Well, Walt had let him get away with it. And their company was a family one; perhaps the company was destined to be passed down to Zachary.
This was it, she was positive. Now all she had to do was find proof.
Given she’d woken up early, she made it into the Third Planet Studio offices ahead of the nine a.m. rush. But Joan was already there, the door to her office open just enough that the clickety-clack sound of acrylic nails against computer keys floated out. Bracing herself, she knocked on the door frame and poked her head in.
“Hi, Joan. I wondered if you might have a moment.”
The older woman looked up sharply and reached for her mouse. “Is everything okay?”
Had she heard something about the incident? The concern in her voice tugged at Quinn’s nerves.
“It’s about Zachary,” she said.
The HR manager’s cheerful smile dissolved as she waved Quinn into the room. “What’s he done now?”
Quinn shut the door behind her and took one of the two plush blue chairs in front of the desk. “We had a run-in last night. He appears to have found out that I’m working here undercover and he cornered me in the disability restroom upstairs.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” she muttered. “I told Walt that boy was no good. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Aiden came looking for me and he scared Zach off.” She picked at the frayed patch of denim over her thigh. “But something needs to be done about him. If he was so bold to target someone he knew was investigating the leak, what would he do to his colleagues?”
Joan’s lips flattened into a thin slash of red. Her nails drummed a sharp beat against the desktop, each tap causing the light to catch on the foil-colored polish.
“This is not the first time, is it?” Quinn pressed.
“No, it’s not.” Joan paused. “We’ve had issues with a few female employees.”
“Natalie warned me that I could become a target.” Her nails scratched against the fraying denim until it gave way and her thigh poked through. “Like what happened to Sarah.”
Joan’s impassive mask slipped.
“She’s your niece, isn’t she?”
“She is.” There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in her voice.
“And Zachary bullied her until she left?”
Quinn’s phone buzzed and when she pulled it out of her pocket, Aiden’s name flashed across the screen. She tapped the cancel button.
“I told her to leave. I didn’t want her to be here when I fought with Walt about it.” She touched the fluffy brown curls at her temple. “Surprise, surprise, Walt didn’t listen to my advice about Zach. He wanted the problem to go away quietly, and he wanted his nephew left alone.”
“So that’s when you started leaking information.” Quinn said it as though it was just another piece of information and, to her shock, Joan didn’t get upset. Instead, she sighed as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
“Yes, that’s when I leaked the information.”
* * *
AIDEN HAD BEEN waiting around for Rhys for over an hour now. Their meeting had been scheduled for nine but the minutes were ticking well past ten, and still he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his boss.
All he wanted to do was head back to Quinn’s place and talk through the Alana thing. He wanted to trust her judgment—he really, really did—but Alana’s name had been on his radar from the beginning. It was entirely possible that Quinn had rose-colored glasses where her best friend was concerned. What if Alana had convinc
ed her to cover up evidence?
He stared at his phone. The last he’d heard from Quinn was that she was following up on a hunch, but she hadn’t revealed what that hunch might be. And she hadn’t taken his call. He could only hope that she hadn’t decided to go back to the Third Planet offices and take Zach on herself.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Rhys said, dropping a hand down on Aiden’s shoulder. “We had an issue with the servers this morning. Logan gets a little cranky when he can’t access his files. Are you still okay to meet up?”
Aiden nodded and pushed out of his chair. “Sure.”
Immediately, his phone rang. Quinn. What crappy timing.
“Looks like the boardroom is occupied so we can go into my office.” He motioned for Aiden to follow him. “So, how are you enjoying being an employee of Cobalt & Dane so far?”
Rhys dropped down into his chair and motioned for Aiden to take one of the two seats on the other side of his desk. A photo of him and two other guys in downhill mountain biking gear, big grins breaking through their dirt-splattered faces, hung from the wall. Other than that one personal item, his office was pretty sparse and utilitarian; pens in a Starbucks New York mug, laptop, mouse, coffee cup. That was all.
“I’d been promised that you were like a dog with a bone when it came to assignments. Logan said you were the kind of guy who would go without sleep to get the job done,” Rhys said. “But I’m worried about the lack of progress with this assignment based on the update you gave me yesterday.” How much could Aiden tell him without betraying Quinn’s trust? Could he mention that he’d rescued Quinn from the deranged nephew of their client? That they had a suspect but hadn’t yet found proof?
That he’d fallen utterly and madly in love with her?
The way Rhys was staring him down there would be no point lying; the guy was smarter than to fall for any vague answers he might give. He’d just have to hope that it would be enough. “We had an incident last night.”
“An incident?”
Aiden proceeded to fill Rhys in on Zach’s actions and how there had been developments in finding a connection to the leak and to the intern who’d left, strategically leaving out the information about Alana Peterson.
“Okay, I’ll tell Quinn to come directly here this morning and we’ll pull her undercover position. Then I’ll go and have a talk with Walt Dixon personally.”
“Let me handle it.” Aiden held up a hand. “You put me on this case and I’ll see it out. But I agree that we should pull her out.”
“Fine. But I want this bastard to know what his nephew is doing.”
“Believe me, I’ll be the first person in line to take a swing at that little shit, but Walt already knows exactly what’s going on.”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence?”
“Uhh...” If he said yes, Rhys would think him short-sighted. If he said no, he’d want a good reason why they hadn’t followed up on the connection.
Rhys interlaced his fingers at the edge of his desk. “I get the distinct impression you’re leaving information out, Odell. You’d better come clean or so help me, I don’t give a shit if you’re Logan Dane’s blood brother, you will be out of here quicker than you can say your own name.”
His eyes were narrowed, his lips set into a hard line. Rhys didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would blow his top very often, but right now he looked as if he was about to throw something.
“There’s nothing else,” he said. “We’re digging into the intern and any connections she might have with the company.”
“But you have nothing concrete?” Rhys raised a brow. “You’ve been there over two weeks and you still have nothing?”
Shit. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid.
“Are you not up to the task, Odell? I can put another consultant on this case.”
“I am up to it, Rhys. I—”
“I’m not so sure you are. Around here, these small assignments should be completed quickly and quietly. The only reason we put you on this assignment was to ease you into the work here. It’s a small fish.” His boss shook his head. “I’m not sure how it worked when you were at the FBI, but here connections don’t matter. You can’t use your relationship with the boss to shield you from the work.”
His blood burned a hot path through his veins. Memories kicked up from the back of his mind, taunts from his old FBI colleagues. Accusations of unfair treatment, favoritism. Nepotism.
“I will not put up with poor performance.” Rhys ran a hand over the top of his closely cropped hair. “Especially not from someone who was brought in here because they’re friends with the boss.”
The voices screamed louder in his head. This was all going exactly the opposite of how he’d wanted it to go. Cobalt & Dane was supposed to be a fresh start...a chance for him to prove himself.
A chance to show the world what he was made of.
“I found a link between a woman named Alana Peterson and the case. I believe she may have been using one of the staff members to access inside information.” The words came tumbling out, and he hated himself for going against what Quinn had asked—but his job was on the line. His reputation. His integrity.
“Okay, so when I asked you if there was anything else, you lied to me.”
“No. I don’t have proof, and I’m not in the habit of incriminating people before I know for sure whether or not they’re guilty.”
For a moment he thought the argument would continue, but Rhys tapped his pen against the edge of the desk. “Alana Peterson. Why do I recognize that name?”
Cursing under his breath, he pulled the laptop from his bag and brought up Alana’s website. Right there on the “about” page was a picture of the statuesque blonde with her arm wrapped around none other than her best friend, Quinn Dellinger.
“Shit.”
“What’s shit?” A female voice caught both of their attention, and Aiden turned to see Quinn hovering in the door, her brows creased.
“What are you doing here?” Aiden asked, his gut clenching.
“I work here.” She stepped into the office tentatively, her long pink hair hanging over one shoulder, and bounced on the balls of her colorful high-top sneakers. “And I’ve figured out the leak.”
“Aiden told me about Alana,” Rhys said, rubbing at his temples. “You should have come to me if you thought someone you knew was involved.”
Quinn’s eyes widened and her head swung between Aiden and Rhys. “What? No, that’s not what we—”
“I’m not mad, Quinn. But we need to figure this out, and Aiden and I both agree you shouldn’t go back to Third Planet.”
Her fists balled up at her sides as she glared at him hard enough that Aiden thought his hair might spontaneously catch fire.
“Oh, you both agree, do you?” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m glad you made that decision before I got here. I really hate having a say in what I do.”
“It’s for your own good.” Aiden pushed up out of his chair. “After last night—”
“Last night you said you had my back,” she spat.
“Why do you think I came looking for you?”
How could she doubt he had her back after what he’d done? He’d stayed with her, comforted her. Now she was angry because he wouldn’t lie? She was the one who’d insisted on truth all along.
“Tell me,” she said, a long breath stuttering out of her lips. “Did you have any intention of keeping your promise?”
Crap.
“Quinn.” He moved to close the distance between them but she held a hand up, her entire body vibrating with anger. “Of course I did.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her voice left no wiggle room, not an inch.
“My duty is to solve the case and follow the information wherever it leads.” The
buzzing in his bad ear seemed to deafen him, stuffing his head full of noise and chaos. Sucking in a slow breath, he allowed his lungs to fill and then deflate. He couldn’t concentrate with that damn ringing!
You can lie to protect a life and you can lie to protect your country, but you cannot lie for personal gain.
“You wanted me to betray all my principles—”
“You’ve said enough.” Her lip trembled but she held fast to her glare. “I get it. I’m not worth believing in.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
She shook her head, sending the long pink strands of her hair scattering around her shoulders. “You lied because you wanted to get one up on me. You wanted to make sure Rhys thought you were the one holding this team up.”
“That is not true.”
“I guess it must be hard coming here on the graces of your friend Logan. I wouldn’t want anyone to know that I got handed a job on a silver platter, either.” Her voice dripped with attitude. “I prefer not to take handouts. But that’s just me.”
So now she was using it against him. Twisting a knife in his chest with her words, cutting him deep.
It was his worst nightmare come true. She was the same as the other FBI agents who’d resented him, who’d attributed any success he had to his father. In their eyes—and now in hers—he would never amount to anything on his own.
“I do not take fucking handouts,” he said, pressing his fingers to his temples. “This wasn’t about me.”
It’s about you. I love you.
The words danced in his mind like devils, needling him with their tiny pitchforks. Taunting him. He couldn’t tell her, not while she thought so little of him.
But he’d make her understand; he had to.
“I didn’t want you to do something stupid like hurting yourself by trying to shield her.”
How could she not see that?
“That’s just the thing, isn’t it?” Her eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Where I come from, you look after your friends. You don’t go behind their backs.”
A Dangerously Sexy Affair Page 17