Gaming for Keeps (Entangled Ever After)

by deLaney, Seleste

  Cal tugged his food out of her reach. “I went the simple route and hacked straight into his film company. Details for the tickets were easy enough to find from there. Duplication is the bigger issue. The tickets have holograms as well as computer chips embedded in them. I managed to find the program that generates the code for the chips. As soon as it’s done compiling, I’m taking it back to the field office to make the actual tickets.”

  For the first time since she sat down, Marissa looked something less than proud and beautiful. She squirmed in her seat, looking over to Trevor as if for backup. “You need the T-1000 for that, right?”

  “No. I don’t need a Terminator. I do need the TCL-1000, though.”

  She slouched and turned away from him. “It’s uh…offline.”

  “What do you mean? It was fine yesterday when I was in the office. I saw one of the new guys using it.” That machine was his baby—the ultimate physical creation device. It could do card forgeries and props and even masks like they used in the movies. Though so far he’d only tested that on costume pieces…just to make sure it worked. He’d busted his ass to get the funds for it approved, and the TCL had saved their asses more than once.

  Marissa threw her shoulders back, straightening with obvious effort, and cleared her throat. “There was a coffee incident.”

  “A coffee…” Cal clutched his plate and mentally counted backward.

  “The tech guys are on it. Seriously, it should be fixed this afternoon.”

  He held his breath to prevent the words he wanted to yell from spewing out. Teeth clenched, he finally said, “And we need those tickets for tonight.”

  “Uh-huh. And that’s why you’re the computer genius.”

  Cal focused on keeping his breathing steady. This mission was sailing to Tartarus in Hades’s hand basket. He thought of Pen, and of Megara somewhere in this same damn con. If anything happened to either of them, he’d never forgive himself. Pieces started to clack together in his mind. It wouldn’t be perfect by any stretch, but as long as the ticket would pass detection, that was all that mattered. “Fine. I can do this, but I need you two out gathering supplies. I need the best printer you can find. Buy it, abscond it, I don’t care, but I need quality…” He rattled off the list of equipment he’d need to rig something worth trying. “And tell the damn tech guys to hurry. This may not work at all.”

  “We’re on it. Delivery within thirty.” Marissa punched in a text rapid-fire.

  “E-mailing Marron an update now,” Trevor said as he pulled out his phone.

  “Good.”

  Trevor turned from the window and said, as he stalked away, “And if we can manage without any more stupid costumes, it’d be a bonus.”

  Marissa leaned in close to Cal, her voice lowered to the throaty growl he was sure had undone more than one mark. “We have to get into that screening—as quietly as possible. If Takamaki knows we’re coming, this whole thing is fucked. We’ll get your equipment, but make sure those forgeries are top-notch. I’ll scope out the screening room with Trevor and figure out which entrance to aim for.”

  She snagged another bite of shrimp, then stood and sauntered off to the very appreciative stares of pretty much every guy in the place. Cal let out a sigh of relief. He still had some time before they were back with what he needed; maybe with them gone he could steal at least a couple minutes with Penelope. When he scanned the crowd, though, she was gone. Shoulders slumping, he turned back to his food. It was probably a bad idea anyway. Work first. Then he could find her again.

  After rigging things as best he could, Cal had to get out of the room. He’d spent more than two hours prepping everything. Now all he could do was wait and pray. He found Pen’s room number and knocked on her door, but—no surprise—she wasn’t there. Only a few more hours until the screening, and the distraction he wanted most was hidden in the crowds of people.

  He killed some time in the fitness center and showered there to keep from hovering over the machine in his room. Stepping through his doorway at last, Cal was greeted by a high-pitched whirring. He threw the door shut and raced to the desk. His workstation was just as he’d left it, but the printer he’d rigged to create the holographic film was jammed, the special ink gumming up the works. Before he’d even popped it open, the thing coughed, sputtered, and died.

  The guts of it were fried and smoke filtered into his room. Melted plastic stuck to everything inside. The plastic wouldn’t budge, so Cal grabbed a screwdriver and fitted it beneath an edge, gently prying it from the drum. Maybe if he was really careful…

  The plastic came free and flew out of the printer, but with the sudden pressure change, his screwdriver jerked, gouging into the drum.

  “Shit!” It would take hours just to get it functional again—cleaned up completely and a new drum installed…if he could find one. Plus there was no guarantee he wouldn’t wind up with the same result. There wasn’t enough time. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed the field office.

  “Marron.”

  “Josh, we have a problem.” Cal didn’t even bother with the machine. There had to be a better option than what he was facing at the moment.

  “What now? I thought you had things under control.”

  “I did, but my MacGyver skills aren’t up to snuff anymore.”

  Marron sighed heavily and slammed something, probably paperwork, on his desk. The poor guy was always buried in paper these days. “In English, Cal.”

  “Remember when I said I thought I could rig something to do the hologram on the tickets? I was wrong. I’ve got the rest of the pieces, but the holograms need to be done in-house on the machine that better be in working order again.”

  Silence hung on the line, and Cal knew Josh was probably calculating the time between now and the screening. “There’s no way to do it there?”

  “Not that I can think of off-hand.” There wasn’t even another agency’s office in the immediate vicinity Josh could weasel them into, not to mention one that would have the right equipment. TRAIT was thirty minutes away without traffic, and heading into a Saturday night downtown? He couldn’t even pretend things would move that fast. But the field office was his last hope.

  “I think the TCL’s close to fixed. Send the specs of what you need right now and I’ll get…someone to work on it.”

  Cal was already encrypting the files. “Greta. She’s not the best with computers, but she has an intuitive feel for the artistic stuff. Have Jodi…” What was the chick’s last name? “…Israel help her on the tech end. Between the two of them, it’ll turn out better than if I did it.” But not quicker. There were only a couple hours left until the screening started. Sure, TRAIT had people here, ready to move in, but everything hinged on putting a body inside the screening room.

  “Okay. We’ll get it done and put together. Send everything else with Marissa.”

  Cal startled, sitting up straighter. “You don’t want me to bring it?”

  “No. Marissa and Trevor already tapped out their access to alternatives. You know people there. See what you can manage in the meantime.” Josh went quiet for a second, likely opening the e-mail. “Besides, Marissa drives faster than you do.”

  He ignored the old-lady-driver comment, instead dwelling on ideas of how to dig up a spare ticket here. No matter what way he attacked the issue, the answer kept coming back to the same thing.

  “Cal, I’m really sorry you’re stuck in the middle of this. I promise. A real vacation soon, okay?”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.” He clicked off his phone and laid it on the desk. He didn’t give a shit about the vacation time anymore. He wasn’t even worried about the possibility of being on hand when things went to hell. Or the hundreds of nameless, faceless people at ConDamned. The only thing he cared about at the moment was the one person Marron’s order had brought to mind.

  Pen.

  …

  The jackass hadn’t even had the decency to look contrite when she saw him with his way-too-
hot-to-be-natural girlfriend. He just sat there and let the blonde eat off his damn plate right after he looked at Pen. For the next three hours, she stalked through the main floor. The one panel she tried to sit in on was a bust.

  After spending the morning dwelling on how awesome last night had been, she didn’t know what the hell to think of this. He wasn’t at work like he’d said. And then he paraded some chick with the kind of body he’d sworn he wasn’t into all over the con. God, she felt like an idiot. And now she couldn’t even pretend last night had been all positive energy and good times. She felt dirty and used and sick to her stomach.

  Then Cal had the nerve to text and ask what her plans were for the night. She still couldn’t remember when she’d given him her number. Seriously, though? He showed up with that at lunch and wanted to hook up with Pen again tonight? God, did he think she was that pathetic? She wanted to scream or hit something or…

  She pulled up short. Perfect. There was a group demoing sword fighting. Wooden swords, but at least she’d get to attack something.

  Someone must have just been used as an example because the instructor was having a tough time getting anyone to volunteer. Pen stepped to the edge of the roped area. “I’ll do it.”

  The guy, about six-two and on the plus side of two hundred pounds, eyed her up and down. “Do you have experience with a sword?”

  Fencing all through college and a lot of practice with her Wii lightsaber. She rolled her eyes. “Hold it and swing, right?”

  “Oh boy. Come on in and get suited up.” He pointed to some ridiculous padding in the corner.

  “No thanks.” She picked up one of the wooden swords and whipped it around like an idiot. What she really wanted was for some cocky asshole to jump in with her so she could beat the snot out of him.

  A too-familiar deep voice piped up from behind her. “I’ll take her on.”

  She just didn’t expect this particular cocky asshole to volunteer.

  Spinning around, she came face-to-face with not one, but both of the guys she’d spent too much time with yesterday. While Cal stepped into the ring, Kent stood right outside the ropes, smirking at her. Whatever. Let him watch. Of course, she’d have preferred he never watch her do anything again.

  Still, if she was going to beat someone up, better one of the guys who deserved it than some random stranger. The instructor positioned them across from each other and started talking about proper form. Pen zoned him out.

  “I texted you,” Cal said, tipping his head toward her bag in the corner.

  She shrugged. “Sorry, I was enjoying vibrate mode too much to bother responding.”

  He ignored the jibe. “So…tonight?”

  Oh, fuck this. She swung at his head, and he blocked with an inch to spare. “I have plans. They don’t include you.”

  Cal frowned at her as she jerked her sword back. “What happened? I thought we hit it off.”

  “Yeah? Well.” She thrust at his abdomen, and he parried. “My plans have room for two at most. Your more-hot-than-cute girlfriend can’t join in. Sorry.”

  The instructor stepped between them. “Hey, you two, we’re not quite ready for—”

  Pen glared at him. “Shut up and get out of the damn way.”

  She lunged at Cal, but he sidestepped and caught her sword hand in his free one.

  “What are you talking about?”

  As she jerked away, she accidentally whacked him across the face with the sword. Too bad—he shouldn’t have grabbed her. “Are you kidding me? I’m not blind, Cal. And I’m not stupid. I saw you with her at lunch. Blonde with the legs that went on forever? Ring any bells? Or does your non-attraction to hot girls end when the makeup’s off?”

  “The call this morning was from my job; that’s why she showed up. Ow!” He staggered backward as she clipped his thigh, and the crowd roared. “I work with her!”

  “Sure you do. She definitely looks like the kind of girl who plays with computers and hacks into the FBI database for fun. Was she looking for fashion tips there?” People cheered around them as Pen battered against his raised sword over and over again, searching for another sign of weakness, but he blocked her at every turn. She wanted to hurt him at least as badly as seeing him with the blonde had hurt her.

  Why couldn’t he have just let her keep her illusions? She wanted to be able to have a guy act decently and not ruin it with reality. Just once. Apparently that was too much to ask for. Might as well have all the truth on the table and find out exactly how far he’d pulled the wool over her eyes. “Is it all an act? I mean, are you even in coding?”

  “Of course I am. Why the hell would I make that up? There are much sexier jobs out there.” A muscle twitched under his eye as he answered. It was a lie. He lied right to her damn face.

  “Fine. Then you should be able to read my shirt.” She shoved against his sword and stepped back, spreading her arms wide. The instructor came over and pried the sword from her hand, leaving Penelope free to square off with Cal—though markedly less able to inflict any real damage. “Come on, uber-coder. If what you say is true, read it.”

  It was a bluff. Based on the “oooo”s even the crowd understood. Most of the biggest geeks she knew couldn’t read more than a few letters in binary before they got headaches. She just didn’t want to deal with any more lies. And now he twirled his finger in a circle like he wanted her to spin around. God, how far was this charade going to go?

  She turned so he could see the back, and of course there was Kent, still glaring at her. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared right back, fuming and wishing she could knee him again for good measure. The sword fight hadn’t made her feel any better at all. In fact, she wanted to—

  “It says, ‘If you can read this, you might be dating material.’ The back is your cell number, but I’m not sure you want me to give it to everyone. Let me know if I’m wrong about the last part. That way all the guys here who want a girl who knows how to handle a sword can get their phones out.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and Pen found it impossible to move, much less speak. It didn’t help that a few of the guys just outside the ring indeed had cell phones in their hands.

  Cal circled her, stopping when they were face-to-face. The crowd around them blurred, only Cal snapping into crystal-clear focus. Hyper-reality had overtaken the reality that had killed the fantasy. He’d read her shirt, every word. And it wasn’t that he had time to program it into a translator on his phone. If he was telling the truth about that…

  “The blonde’s name is Marissa. We work together. Hell, I’ll call her right now and you can ask her yourself. She’ll even confirm that I’m single, since she’s tried to set me up with at least a half dozen of her friends. There is no girlfriend. No wife. No kids. There’s just me…asking again if you have room in your plans for a guy who’s desperate for a break from the computer in his damn hotel room. Who really wants to spend more time with you. Maybe somewhere other than here.” He tossed his weapon onto the corner of the mat where it landed with a clatter against the others. “Now, if you still want to disembowel me with a wooden sword, I won’t stop you. I even have a red shirt on so we could follow that whole trend. Then again, if you let me live, you get to be the one to buck the system.”

  “I—” She didn’t know what to say. She was just impressed she managed to make sound come out at all.

  His lips twisted into a smirk and he held out a hand toward her. “Truce?”

  She raised her hand, ready to gnaw on her fingernail, but stopped before it reached her mouth. He’d offered to prove to her that he was single. He had proven his geekiness wasn’t an act.

  Whenever she questioned him about something, he came out smelling like a perfectly ripe strawberry. But she couldn’t shake the feeling he was lying about something.

  Every red flag was dimming until, one by one, they disappeared. With nothing to hold her back other than fear, Pen reached out, wrapped her fingers in his, and let him pull her close. Amid the
groans from the cell-phone guys, applause erupted from the crowd, and she didn’t care about those who weren’t clapping, especially not the one with more hands than brain. Then Cal pressed his lips to hers in a brief but shiver-inducing kiss—the kind that made her forget almost everything.

  One thing she knew for sure, though—kiss or no kiss. Whatever the lie was, it better damn well not be about liking cute girls.

  Chapter Eight

  Sound of Madness

  “So, who was the guy giving you the evil eye while you were trying to kill me back there?” The bastard had looked at Pen with death in his gaze through their entire fight. Every instinct had Cal wanting to jump out of the ring and pummel the jerk. Now, with the field office on top of processing the forged tickets, all he wanted was the Penelope he’d met last night back. That and to get her someplace safe.

  He let his fingers dangle near hers, hoping she’d take the hint. She obviously still wasn’t completely on board with getting back to how things had been when they first woke up—much less when they went to bed—considering she clenched her hand in a fist by her side. He was going to have to work up to asking her about the screening tonight.

  “Can we pretend I don’t know?”

  Good. She was talking, but he’d be damned if he was going to keep waiting for her to move in. Cal covered her fingers with his and gave them a squeeze. “Probably not. Just tell me this much—am I going to need to watch my back because you left the ring with me?”

  With the way Pen rolled her eyes and snorted, he had his answer, but she clarified anyway. “Remember the uh…guy I sent into the fetal position? Yeah. That was him.”

  It was a good thing Cal wasn’t drinking anything or it probably would have sprayed over everyone near them. Damn. He’d liked her before; he really liked her now. “You were serious about that?”

  Shrugging, she edged her way through the crowd. He didn’t know what it was, but she clearly had a destination in mind. “He may have gotten a little handsier than I wanted, and I might have kneed him in the groin.”