I snort. “That’s what they say now. But the numbers these companies are throwing around? There’s no way everything is all clear and in the open. That’s not how companies like this work. It’s not how tech works. There’s always some shady areas.”
“I hear you.” Zoey muses over things, rubbing her chin. “So, okay, let’s say you accept their CodeRight program thingy and we move into the apartment. If the situation changes, we can leave. Simple. No strings, but if there are—” she holds a ghost object with one hand and mimics scissors beneath it “—we cut and run. Okay?”
“Why do I feel like this is walking into a field of landmines?” I stare at the door, running over things.
Zoey interrupts the silence. “Trigg’s right, by the way. You do need breathing room to get this project wrapped up. You can’t keep pulling all these extra shifts at the hospital and finish the software at the same time.”
It’s tempting, it really is. No rent? I do the math. I could stop picking up overtime, and I may even be able to let go of a couple shifts a week. All I need is some extra time to work on the program, and this right here would be the proverbial shot in the arm.
“Besides, I could go for some rent-free living. I’d love to pay off my student loans before I’m ninety. Plus,” Zoey grins at me, “this means our fun-on-the-beach time could happen sooner, right?”
I can’t help but laugh at the eager expression on her face. “Alright, let’s do it. But the first hint of anything fishy, and we’re out.”
“Like sardines in fruitcake?” She makes a face.
Shaking my head, I leave her and her smirk behind as I return to the kitchen where Trigg is poking through my ingredients. I walk up to him and peek over his shoulder. “Thinking about making something?”
Trigg straightens from smelling the mixture in the bowl and turns to me with a friendly grin. “Just checking out what’s on the menu. How did the pow-wow go?”
I wave a hand toward the apartment door. “Please, step into my office.”
There’s just something about doing business in my kitchen. It may only be a dinky little apartment, but it’s been my home for years, and the kitchen is my place of refuge. We walk through the living room and out the door to the hallway outside my apartment.
“Sounds like you’ve come to a decision,” he says.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “Yes. I accept the offer to be part of the CodeRight program. And Zoey and I are happy to move into this apartment of yours — as long as nothing about my security software is attached to it.”
He places his hand over his heart. “I swear it. But you don’t have to take my word for it. Have a lawyer look over the CodeRight grant; you’ll see that it’s entirely separate from our purchase offer. You’ll be completely protected.”
If the Jeremy situation taught me anything, it’s to get everything in writing and then triple-check it. “I’ll do that.”
Trigg steps closer and speaks softly. “I want this relationship to be founded on trust, but I understand we have to earn that.”
“Feeling’s mutual.” Now that our business is concluded, my mind is drifting back to his sensual caresses at the club and the steamy dream I woke from yesterday.
He places a hand on my arm. “We just need to get to know one another better.”
“Agreed.” Without approval from my brain, my free hand moves up to his. Our hands touch, and his fingers spread. Then, just like the night at the club, my fingers fall between his, and electricity is sweeping my nerves.
“And that comes with time.”
“Of course.” I find myself staring at his lips as he talks, and I’m suddenly aware of how close we’re standing. My heart is beating so loudly, I wonder if he can hear it.
“We’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel comfortable.”
I look up into his eyes, and my stomach flutters with the nearness of his lips. Trigg leans his full height down, lingering over top of me, so very tempting. I lift my chin, my breath catching.
And then his lips are on mine. Not hungry or ravenous, but unhurried and passionate — even better than the kissing that happened in my dream fantasy.
A wave of longing and need runs from my lips and down my core. I find myself reacting, kissing him back just as slow and deliberate. Like I’m tasting fine chocolate for the first time. I reach to his neck, fingertips barely grazing his skin with a hesitant touch, and Trigg dispels a breath with what might be a groan.
A thrill runs down my spine, energizing me and pleading to dive deeper. But the fog of desire clears long enough for me to take pause, and I hit the brakes, pulling away. Our eyes meet, and Trigg’s lips are parted, his breath freezing in his chest as he watches me, unsure. My body cries to give in, to fling myself into his strong arms and just let go for once.
But I do the practical, sensible thing and step away. I don’t want to do a disservice to all my hard work by just falling into the arms of a potential buyer, whose job it is to woo me.
No matter how amazing his lips feel on mine. No matter how much electricity there is between us.
I search behind my back for the door handle, twisting when I finally find it. A rush of words comes out. “Thank you for coming by. I’ll get in touch after I have a lawyer look over the agreement. If it’s all good, then we’ll start packing our things.”
Trigg’s hand is reaching for me. “Emma, wait.”
But I don’t. I can’t. I step into my apartment and shut the door behind me. The last thing I need to be doing is perpetuating the stereotype of women working in STEM fields. We’re usually painted as either hardass, man-hating lesbians or prim, uptight types who just need a good lay to set them straight.
Although… it’s hard to admit, but I have been a little more uptight lately than usual, and I really might need a nice, carefree romp in the hay.
14
Jude
Entertainment stand. I use a thick Sharpie to label the bag of bolts and washers before standing and moving the laminated planks of Emma and Zoey’s disassembled entertainment center against the wall for Gunner to bring downstairs.
It’s a good operation we have going on here. Gunner, my bulldozer, is getting in a good workout, even for him. But he’s in his element, using his brawn to shuttle boxes and furniture from the ladies third floor apartment down to the moving truck. Daniel was thinking ahead more than the rest of us and showed up with enough boxes, tape, and packing material to move the entire Eastside.
“Trigg, you’re going to want to help him with that.” I direct him over to where Gunner is manhandling a couch out the door all by himself.
“I got it, boss,” Gunner says, tipping it on end.
“I’m sure you do, big guy, but I don’t think the girls want you to use it as a toboggan to sled down the steps.”
Gunner’s eyes light up. “You’re a genius.”
“No, no, no.” Trigg takes hold of the opposite end. “No sledding down the steps. Let me help.”
The two men shuffle out the door with the couch between them, and I hear Gunner as they make their way down the hall. “I can put skis on this. Do you think they’d let me take it down Crystal Mountain?”
I shake my head. Whatever that man dies of, it’s going to make front page news. “You got the last of the trash, Jax?”
My twin is in the process of tying off a big, white plastic bag. “Got it.” He calls down the hall toward the ladies’ bedrooms. “I can’t believe how much food you two throw out. You’re lucky I’m hiding this from Gunner. He’d be in a frenzy.”
Emma emerges from her room, bent backward in an attempt to balance herself with what is obviously a heavy box.
I rush over and relieve her of the burden. “Let me get that. You just tell us what to do and what goes where.”
She smiles at me gratefully before replying to Jax, “I tried an experiment with fruitcake and sardines. It didn’t turn out quite like I wanted. Not at first, at least. The last batch is in the fridge.
It’s actually not that bad.”
“Fruitcake and fish?” Jax makes a face and holds the trash bag further away from his body. “Sounds... uh, creative.”
“Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” Zoey says, emerging from the hallway.
I place Emma’s box on the coffee table and jack my thumb toward the door. “Jax, just send the bag down the chute. Hey, Daniel?”
“Yeah?” He pauses in his careful wrapping of the ladies’ wall art.
I point down the hall at Zoey, who is carrying a box that looks just as heavy as the one Emma was hoisting.
“Got it.”
Emma leans against the kitchen counter, taking in the sight. “I know it isn’t much, but it’s been home, you know?”
I do know. I was in the Marines for twelve years, and I never stayed anywhere long enough to make it home, not until Pentabyte formed. It’s evident she and Zoey have been here for some time. Every closet and drawer is stocked full, and it’s impressive how many boxes have already been filled. It’s not random junk, either. Everything has a story for them. The old monogrammed towels they haven’t thrown away because they stole them from the locker room of their university’s football team. All two dozen glass vases under the bathroom sink from bouquets given to Zoey by admirers, each with their own sweet or sordid tale of dating. The collection of wine bottles across the top of the kitchen cabinets, each labeled with a date and signatures, representing every special event Emma’s celebrated with friends and family in recent years. I’ve gotten to know Emma more tonight than in the past week, helping her and Zoey pack up a lifetime of memories.
I join her in the kitchen. “I wish you were moving under different circumstances.”
“Zoey and I have been here since we were both upperclassmen in college.”
Zoey strolls into the kitchen and fills a glass with water, taking a rest. “Maybe it’s about time we upgraded, then.”
“I know I’m the one holding that back,” Emma says. “Maybe if I’d focused in college and gone for my RN like you did instead of a software engineering degree, I’d be making somewhere near what you do, and we’d both be better off.”
Zoey places her empty glass in the sink. “If you’d gone for nursing, instead, you wouldn’t have made the progress you have on that code of yours, and we wouldn’t have five strapping men in our apartment getting all hot and sweaty, so, hey, I’m not complaining.”
“Well, there is that,” Emma says with a sly smile.
Zoey looks over the pile of boxes on the kitchen counter at Jax, his muscles rippling through his shirt as he flips their little dining table over to remove the legs. She raises her glass at Emma. “Oh yeah, I happily approve.”
I chuckle quietly as Emma’s roommate disappears down the hall, back to her room. “I like that one. You have good taste in friends.”
“I question her judgement sometimes,” Emma counters with a lopsided grin. “For sticking around with me, that is.”
“Don’t. Your sacrifices will bear fruit.”
“Promise?”
Her word comes out very lighthearted and casual, but it strikes a nerve inside me. I wish I could promise. Especially the way she’s looking at me. She’s strong, but there’s vulnerable pieces of her, and it shows. Broke, having to move out of her apartment, unsure of her future. Makes me want to take her in my arms and hold her, to let her know I can carry the burden for her. But she’s got sturdy shoulders of her own, stronger than I’d guess most have given her credit for. I know how tough women have to be in this field. And she’s made it evident that she’s adamant about tackling her challenges herself, which I admire.
“I promise to always provide assistance if you need it. Just ask. You can do this.” My voice goes several shades softer than I intended, and I kick myself for my words, because moisture glazes over Emma’s eyes, and she gets to biting at her lower lip.
Fortunately, a moment later her attention diverts to the apartment door, and I follow her gaze. Gunner and Trigg are back.
“We can make it aerodynamic,” Gunner is saying. “Put them on skis, and it’ll work. Lazyboy in front, loveseat in the center, couch in back. That’s what? Six of us all going downhill at once. It’d be a blast.”
“I don’t see what’s aerodynamic about that setup,” Trigg says.
Gunner positions his hands in a triangle. “It would so work. We can put a spoiler on the Lazyboy so when the footrest is extended—”
I tune Gunner out and lean toward Emma. “What would you like us to tackle next?”
Emma looks around her nearly empty apartment. “I can keep going with packing up my bedroom if you guys want to get the last of the stuff out of the living room, then we can empty out the kitchen.”
“Sounds good. Do you remember which one of these is yours?” I point toward the two cardboard boxes on the coffee table.
“The smaller one on the left goes in my room,” she says.
“Got it covered.” Gunner says, dropping to his knees. He takes a Sharpie out of his pocket. He labels Emma’s box Foxy Lady’s Room and Zoey’s box Foxy Lady’s BFF. Then he stacks the two heavy boxes on top of one another, lifts them like a small child, and strides out the apartment.
“Shit, he’s strong,” Emma whispers, her eyes wide.
“Comes in handy,” I admit.
Emma places a hand on my arm, making my skin goosebump. “Thank you for all this help.”
She gives me this sweet, heart-melting smile, and I’m ready to pull her into my arms. I’m not about to tell her we’ve never personally moved any other CodeRight participant — we hire a moving service for that — so I just give her a kind nod and stay where I am. “You’re very welcome. It’s no problem at all.”
Her eyes search mine for a moment, and then she blinks rapidly as though to clear her head. “Hey, would you all like to come over tomorrow? After we move everything out we’ll just be here cleaning, if you want to keep us company. I’ll order pizza.”
Damn. I hate to turn down any opportunity to spend time with Emma, but tomorrow night the guys and I have long-standing plans. “I’d love to, and I’m sure the rest of the guys would, too. But we have a meeting tomorrow night.”
“Working late, huh?”
“Sort of — it’s a thing we do every year to commemorate an important milestone. Could we take a raincheck?”
She flashes me a bright grin. “Sure, of course. Maybe once I’m settled in I can cook dinner for you all.”
“Sounds perfect — we’d love that.”
“Great. I guess I’ll… uh, go finish up in my room now,” she says, jerking her thumb over her shoulder, “then the guys can disassemble the bedframe.”
“Let us know what else we can do to help.”
She glances around. “I think you’ve got it pretty much covered. You’ve all been fantastic.”
Emma leaves Jax, Daniel, Trigg, and I in the living room together, and I take the opportunity to motion the guys over. Once we’re all huddled up, I ask, “Do we know what happened with her bank account yet?”
Daniel tilts his head in a way that tells me there’s more to the story than a simple answer. “It wasn’t a glitch, I know that much. It’s not any kind of regular hack, either. If I had to make a guess, I’d say someone’s screwing with her.”
My lips curl into a snarl, and I double check down the hall before replying, “You think it’s BHC?”
“It’s probable,” Daniel says with a frown.
“But they aren’t the only ones who would orchestrate this kind of stunt,” Trigg says, always the big picture guy. “There’s STI Corp and Bossemere Enterprises.”
Jax’s eyes flash. “Yeah, they’d both pull some shit like this, too. Something to up the ante, create a situation that pushes her into taking a deal faster because she needs the money. Get her to sign before the competition gets too fierce.”
I nod. It would be like one of the smaller companies to try to strong-arm a decision from her before the big boys really
got rolling. “She said someone else already offered her a lab and living space. I’d bet good money that offer came from BHC.”
Daniel nods. “Probably did.”
“Well, this bank account thing seems too coincidental to not be BHC, too,” I say.
Trigg grimaces. “As much as we all despise BHC — and I wouldn’t put this past them — we can’t assume it’s them. After all, we offered her almost the same deal they did, so we can’t hold that against them.”
Fuck. I hate it when he takes both sides like that.
Gunner pops into the apartment. “What’d I miss? Why are we in a huddle?”
“Keep your voice down,” Daniel warns. “Emma’s bank account. We’re trying to figure out who did it.”
“My money’s on STI,” he says. “Remember when they saddled that freshman at Boston U with about a hundred unpaid parking tickets? Hacking the police department like that takes brass balls.”
“Right. It could be any of them,” I say. “But whoever it is, I think the goal is to turn the pressure up on Emma in order to put her in a position to sell fast.”
“Agreed.” Jax nods. He and I are always on the same page.
“Can you do some work to dig into the matter further?” I ask my twin. “I know you don’t like getting back into that side of things, but—”
Jax raises his hand, palm out to me. “I know.” His jaw is set firm, and I can tell he feels the old demons nipping at his heels. “It’s for Emma, so I’ll do it. We need to figure out who’s going after her if we want to keep her protected.”
“I’m glad she took our offer for the apartment,” Daniel says.
I take a deep breath. “Absolutely. Until we get a better idea of who the players are that we’re dealing with, having her in our building will at least allow us to keep a closer eye on the situation.”
15
Emma
Vested Interest Page 9