by Susanna Carr
Kyle’s stomach tightened and pinched as the rage billowed inside him. Someone almost got away with the intellectual property for their upcoming product. It was his most innovative work. He had spent years coming up with the artificial intelligence for a program to analyze the content of a picture. Any picture.
And he almost lost it.
Sure, he was going through the process of getting it legally protected. But his idea was at its most vulnerable from the time they created the blueprint to the time they get it patented.
It would be hell if they lost all they had researched and developed. If they missed out on the partnership with plaza+ tag, the revolutionary community on the Internet, they would stagger from the bad hit.
But if their competitor stole the idea and patented it as their own…The possibility ate at Kyle’s gut like acid. He refused to let that happen. Ashton Image Works would never pay the competition millions of dollars for the use of one of his ideas!
“I thought the blueprint was online,” Glenn said. “And you had to use a password to get to them.”
“Parts of it are,” Kyle explained. Glenn never understood computers, which was how their friendship developed. They met in college when Kyle had to tutor him. “And some of the specs of the blueprint are not available online. Like the highly sensitive ones that we don’t want leaked.”
Glenn rolled his eyes. “A lot of good that did.”
Kyle felt the reluctant smile tug at his mouth. “You know the green book I’m always carrying around? That’s the blueprint this programmer tried to take out.”
“Why didn’t he copy it?”
“Because,” Annette interrupted, “it’s on a specially treated green paper that makes it very difficult to copy.”
“Oh.” Glenn paused as he mulled over the information. “How many of these blueprints do we have to keep track of?”
“There’s only one.” It was a thick book with hundreds of thousand lines of code.
“One?” Glenn looked back and forth at the others, obviously wondering if he heard correctly. “For the whole company? Just one book?”
“Yes,” Annette said, “we all have to share.”
“In this book is a log of every programmer who has looked at the blueprint and why they looked at it. They have to be approved each time by a manager.”
Glenn’s mouth dropped open. “This is your idea of a secured system?”
“It has sensors embedded in the pages,” Timothy said. “It’s like trying to take a book out of the library before you checked it out.”
Glenn practically sputtered with outrage. “And not once did anyone think of going high-tech security?”
“No one has swiped the blueprint before this.”
“Uh-huh.” Glenn rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “And you really wonder how a nobody got the book?”
“The programmer is the fall guy,” Annette decided with her usual intensity. Right now the blonde radiated with deep anger. “No way was he working alone.”
“Don’t be too sure,” Timothy said.
“He didn’t have the security clearance,” she pointed out. “He didn’t work for anyone who did. He would have raised red flags earlier.”
“So you think he had an accomplice?” Glenn asked.
“I think he was the accomplice,” Kyle said. “We have to look higher. All of those who have access are under suspicion. We’ll find the connection that way.”
“You do know what this means?” Annette said.
Glenn hunched his shoulders as if he were bracing himself for the impact. “No.”
“This programmer wouldn’t have made a ballsy move unless he already had made contact with a buyer.”
Silence wavered in the conference room until Glenn slapped his hands on the table. “Shit.”
“Our competition now knows what we want to do with our product,” Annette continued. “And we don’t know how much info they have of ours to make their own blueprint. It’s going to be a race against the clock.”
Timothy rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled. “Which company do you think it is?”
She shrugged. “The image processing software industry is very small, very competitive, and—”
“Very hot,” Kyle finished. “We need to use that to our advantage.”
Annette stiffened and then groaned. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
Kyle drummed his fingers on the polished table as a plan began to form. “It’s time for our potential partners to pay us a visit.”
“Are you insane?” Glenn asked, wide-eyed.
Possibly, Kyle decided. The idea bordered on deranged, but he couldn’t play it safe. Going on the defensive would be a bad move. “It’s only a matter of time before word gets out that we had a security breach.”
Timothy tossed his hands in the air. “Which is why we need to lock down.”
“No.” Kyle was adamant on this point. “That makes us look panicky.”
“That’s because we are,” Glenn muttered.
Kyle pinned his friend with a cool stare. “Which is why we have to look confident, but not careless. We’re going to invite the owners of plaza+tag, show them around, and get the deal.”
“Show them around?” Timothy was horrified. “Have them tour our company so they can, what? Take pictures with their cell phones?”
“We have to gain their confidence,” Kyle said. “And make sure they won’t want to do business with anyone else.”
“They’ll screw us,” Annette predicted.
Kyle rose from his chair. “They’ll have to take their turn. This is our plan and we’re running with it.”
Molly was just about to turn off her computer when her boss pushed open the glass door. She pulled her hand away from the shut-off button and tried to look busy as Sara hurriedly approached her.
“Did you confirm the meeting?” the executive assistant asked in a breathless rush.
Oh…shoot! Molly felt her insides twist but kept her expression blank. “With the outside advertising agency?” she asked carefully.
“Yes, that one.” Lines formed on Sara’s forehead. The woman always appeared frazzled and anxious, from her curly red hair to her chewed fingernails.
Molly smiled brightly. “Of course.”
“Good! What a relief.” The phone buzzed and Sara leaned over the reception desk. Molly slowly rested her elbow on a stack of papers.
“That’s my line. I’ll get it here.” Sara reached over and grabbed the phone. “Sara speaking. Oh!” She checked her watch. “I didn’t realize…I’ll be right down. Okay…okay. ’Bye.” The phone went down with a clatter.
“I forgot to tell you that I have to leave early,” Sara said with a grimace. She hurried to the glass door, slid her ID badge across the security pad, and yanked open the door. “I have another doctor’s appointment. I bet I used up all my sick leave for the year.”
“No problem,” Molly called out, frozen in place. “I have everything under control.”
She didn’t move even after her boss reappeared. “Do you have any questions before I go?” Sara asked as she crossed the spacious, modern reception area, carrying an overflowing tote bag.
“I got it covered.”
“Thanks,” Sara said as she headed for the stairwell. She pushed the heavy door with all her might. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“ ’Bye!” Molly kept her smile intact until the door closed with a metallic click.
Dang it! Molly lifted her arm and grabbed the to-do list. She glared at the unchecked item: confirm ad agency meeting.
She slapped the notepad onto her desk and covered her face with her hands. She could do this. Cover her tracks. She was practically a pro at it.
Molly looked at the clock. It was almost five. How much did she want to bet everyone at the ad agency was gone for the day?
She punched in the numbers, gnawing her bottom lip as she devised her story. Her mood brightened when a live person answered on the other e
nd.
“Hi, this is Molly Connors from Ashton ImageWorks. I’m following up on a message I left earlier today. I haven’t received a reply.” She closed her eyes, silently apologizing for whoever was going to get blamed for the “breakdown” of communication.
But by the time she hung up the phone, the meeting was confirmed. Molly scratched the task off of her list with a swipe of her pencil, hoping she didn’t get anyone in trouble. She had a feeling that kind of karma was going to turn around and smack her good one of these days.
“Where’s Sara?”
Molly’s heart lurched into her throat at the sound of Kyle’s low voice. Her arms and legs suddenly felt floppy as she felt an electric rush scream through her veins.
“She’s…” Didn’t Sara say she used up her sick leave? Molly didn’t want to get the executive assistant in trouble. “She’s in a meeting.”
Molly risked a look at him. He was really too handsome. All hard lines and angles from his slanted cheekbones to his uncompromising chin.
It was too distracting. Made her mind go to mush. She could vaguely remember what she was talking about. “It’s going to last a few hours and she said she’ll go home afterward.”
Kyle frowned. “What meeting?”
Oh, why did you have to go and ask that? Molly was about to concoct a meeting. It was on the tip of her tongue when she decided not to take the chance. She always blathered like an idiot around Kyle Ashton.
“I don’t know,” she said as she systematically turned off her computer. “Would you like me to find out?” Say no, say no, say no…
She felt his piercing gaze. Molly didn’t need to see if he was watching her. Her skin stung with awareness.
“No,” he said slowly. “You can go home.”
Hey, that ESP thing can work. Molly smiled big at Kyle. “Good night.”
“Good night, Molly.”
Oooh. Her shoulder blades twitched as her spine tingled. There was something about the way he said that. Low and husky and full of promise. She was still buzzing from it on her bus ride home.
What was it about that guy? Molly rolled her eyes at the rhetorical question. Well, yes, his body was to die for, but it was the way he moved. She sensed power—real power—lurking under iron restraint.
That command of his senses probably made him amazing in bed. She wanted to experience it, but most of all she wanted to shatter his self-control. She wanted to face the fierce wildness he kept hidden.
Like that was ever going to happen. She’d seen his choice of women. Debutantes, heiresses, celebrities. Receptionists weren’t on that list.
And that was fine. Sure, it was. She didn’t need the drama. She already had enough in her life. Like which bill she should pay this month. The water bill or the power bill? Eenie-meenie-minie-mo.
The Kyle Ashtons of the world didn’t bother with that sort of thing. Molly laid her head against the cold bus window and stared out into the darkness. Heck, he probably owned water and electric companies.
Nor did the Kyles of the world date women like her. She might spend her days on the luxurious executive floor, but she spent her off hours in a cockroach infested “studio” apartment. She took extreme measures hiding that fact. It took her a while during her long job hunt, but she eventually got smarter about her appearance.
Her manicure was as homemade as her haircut, but no one looked closely enough to see the mistakes. The knockoff designer shoes had black marker scribbles to conceal the torn leather. She might never repeat an outfit, but that was only because she’d figured out the complicated system of abusing every exchange policy at the trendy boutiques. Even her perfume was an imposter fragrance.
Most days she felt like she was walking on a tightrope, but it wouldn’t be like that for much longer. Friday, to be exact. Then she’d get closer to paying off that horrendous debt her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend left her with. Maybe even make a dent in her medical bill.
Let’s not go crazy here, she thought wryly as she got off at her bus stop.
She usually tried not to think about it and push it to the back of her mind. Not so much out of denial, Molly decided as she hurried down the block, but out of survival. If she thought about it, she’d crack. Break. Lose the strength to fight back.
And then where would she be? Because there was no one backing her up. Fighting at her side or fighting for her.
“Molly!”
Molly stopped and looked up at the apartment building kitty-corner from hers. She saw her friend waving at her from an open window. “Hi, Bonita.”
“Can you look after my kids tonight while I go to the Laundromat?” she called across the street.
“Yeah, sure.” Not like she had anything exciting going on. Plus, Bonita had cable television. Unlike herself, ever since her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend racked up a thousand dollars on her cable bill. All from watching porn, and all within a month before he left. She didn’t even want to know how he managed that.
Molly trudged over to her mailbox and unlocked it. It was crammed with letters, and not the good kind. She scanned through the items. Bill. Bill. Overdue notice. Bill. Junk mail. Wait, what was this?
She tore the envelope and quickly read the letter. The library was coming after her with a collection agency over a late book? She slapped the paper against her leg and sighed. What was this world coming to? She’d returned it.
Molly slowly walked down the steps to her dark and dank basement apartment. That letter was just one more thing pulling her down. On top of another and another. And then Molly saw the sheet of white paper taped onto her door.
Oh, great. Three guesses on who it was from. Her psychotic neighbor telling her to keep the noise down? Her landlord springing another surprise inspection? A letter from Ed McMahon saying he dropped by because she won the sweepstakes?
She got closer to her door and stopped. Molly read the first bold line as every ounce of air squeezed out of her lungs.
Eviction notice.
Chapter 2
She heard the elevator bell ding. Of course. The day she wanted to make some personal calls before she clocked in, people showed up to work early. This was how her luck worked.
Molly placed the phone down and sat up straight. It was showtime. Keep the personal drama hidden.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing her boss and the engineering coordinator. “Good morning, Sara. Julia.” Molly kept her eyes off of the engineer coordinator’s bottom as the woman walked past her desk. Panty lines, or the lack thereof, were none of her business.
Julia barely glanced at her. Fine, Molly thought. No skin off my nose. And, by the way, you sound like a barnyard animal when you come.
“Morning, Molly,” Sara said. “How are you doing?”
“Fantastic!” Hmm. Those behavior specialists in the media were wrong. You didn’t start feeling fantastic after saying it. “And you?”
Her boss sighed heavily and leaned against the high edge of the reception desk. “Busy, busy, busy.”
Molly tried to look sympathetic, but Sara always talked about how busy she was. As if no one else had as much on their plate as she did. Molly knew that was why she’d been hired, but it could get annoying. She bet that Sara was disorganized rather than indispensable.
And she would love to see if Sara could handle her personal to-do list. Like throwing herself at the mercy of her landlord without anyone overhearing. Calling in favors from her friends who had little money to spare. If Sara had a list like that, she’d really start complaining.
“Kyle invited plaza+tag to visit, and I need you to make arrangements,” Sara informed her. “He plans to show them around, dazzle them. You know, give them the works.”
“When are they arriving?” Molly asked, jotting down notes on her scratch pad.
“Thanksgiving week.”
Molly paused. The worst week to make any travel arrangements. Did bosses sit around and brainstorm impossible challenges for their staff?
“Okay,” Mol
ly said with a serene smile, “tell me what you need and I’ll get started.” In between calling pawn shops…
“Thanks, Molly. You’re a big help.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she answered brightly. And the only reason she came to work today. Well, that and the unlimited long distance phone service.
An unwelcome thought occurred to her. “Oh, hold on!” Molly said. “Work is going to be closed on Thanksgiving and that Friday, right?”
“Officially,” Sara said as she adjusted the tote bag strap on her shoulder. “Some of the executives will probably work through it like always, but the administrative staff isn’t expected to.”
“And are the guests visiting during that weekend? Don’t they want to celebrate Thanksgiving?”
“I guess not,” Sara said with a shrug, and headed toward the glass door. “But you have nothing to worry about. Do you have big plans for the holiday?”
Molly shook her head. “No.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Soup kitchen.” If her luck didn’t change real soon.
“Wow,” Sara said, coming to a halt. “Really?”
Molly winced and her stomach did a free fall. She didn’t mean to say that out loud! What all did she say?
“Now I feel selfish for booking a ski trip to Whistler. Eh, what should I expect from a girl like you.”
“Like me?” She dropped her pen and heard it clatter onto her desk. What was that supposed to mean? Her ribs squeezed her lungs; her nerves zeroed in for a crash landing.
Sara winced and splayed her hands out in apology. “Oh, don’t take it the wrong way. It’s just that, well, I know you don’t say anything…”
Splat! Her nerves felt like they were spewed everywhere. Molly wrapped her arms protectively around her midriff before she doubled over. “You know?”
“I started picking up clues here and there,” Sara said, clearly uncomfortable about saying anything, “and then it became obvious.”
“It did?” Clues? What clues? She had been so careful. What tipped her off? Had she said something? Was someone trying to garnish her wages? Did she smell?