“Thanks.” The compliment warmed her, and she couldn’t help but grin. It was true, sometimes he fell into the repetitive, micro-manager role, but it was times like this she remembered he really did recognize and appreciate her skills.
“So.” He puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. “Something’s come up this afternoon, and I need you to step in a second time.”
Her mind whirred, trying to process the words. “For…?”
“There’s that panel on shopping cart security. I can’t make it, so you’re up.”
Epic. That meant no script, shoot-from-the-hip answers, on a topic she loved to discuss when she was given free reign. “Awesome. Absolutely. I’m there.” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice.
He gave a small laugh and shook his head. “Glad to hear it. Just do me a tiny favor.”
“Of course.”
“There will be five of you on the panel, including a representative from Skriddie. My only request is you steer clear of them outside of the discussion. No reason to bring up bad blood here, right?”
Something ticked in the back of her head. That was the second time today he’d mentioned avoiding them. He seemed more fixated on the issue than anyone at Skriddie, and considering he wasn’t the one whose network had been hacked, that seemed odd.
Maybe he’s just looking out for me. Except, she couldn’t make herself believe it. For a brief moment, she considered telling him Vivian had assured her it was all done and in the past. Instead, she just turned a smile on him. “Of course not. I’ll behave.”
“Go grab some lunch.” He nodded toward the exhibit hall doors. “Panel’s at two-thirty. Take it easy until then.”
“Right, sure.” As she wandered away, she couldn’t help the doubt gnawing at her thoughts. Vivian had been genuine. Sure, there were some things Mikki didn’t know, but she thought she could at least tell when someone was being phony. But apparently either Vivian or Hayden had lied to her. A million prickles crawled under her skin at the idea Hayden knew more about the situation than he was saying. She just wished she had a focus for her misgivings, rather than just a suspicion.
Chapter Seven
Sale is dead. They went with NSS.
Jared snarled at empty air and jammed his phone back in his slacks pocket. He didn’t need any more info from Tate to know what had happened. After the call last night, he’d expected to lose the overseas contract, but the news still infuriated him.
The first time it had happened, almost six months ago, it had been a fluke. Sometimes they lost sales. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d personally dug into the rumors. Scoured every inch of the network himself to make sure they were unfounded, and moved on. Reluctantly, but he’d done enough investigation to put his mind at ease.
The second time, two months ago, at least they’d been ready to answer the concerns about their own internal security. But their responses hadn’t been enough, and since they weren’t accustomed to clients giving such specific reasons for going with another company, he had been suspicious.
He’d dived back into the rumors. Even going so far as to spend an entire week personally checking every password and the security settings for every employee.
Money? Sure, sometimes someone balked at their pricing. But that usually happened early on in the process. Personality clash? Again, it came up. Just not often.
But to be minutes away from signing a contract and be told, “We heard a rumor you don’t even have it together internally,” and for it to have happened three times now…
It didn’t feel right to Jared. Especially since it had never been an issue before.
The flaws weren’t in his network, he was certain of that, which meant he needed answers. Since they’d lost to NSS each time, he could only think of one place to look. Even if he couldn’t leverage a new contract to make him look better for promotion, if he could tie a tourniquet around the issue before it got worse, that would still work in his favor. He made his way through the convention center crowds, cutting a straight line for the exhibit hall.
His determined footsteps slowed as he neared his destination. Mikki was at the edge of the NSS booth, back to him, tugging her messenger bag over her head. Each movement elongated her curves, and his chest tightened. He drew in a shallow breath, unable to drag his gaze away. She’d be the perfect way to get rid of some of this tension.
Too bad it wasn’t an option. He’d been right to put an end to things before they started. She whirled toward him, and as her gaze met hers, joy dancing in her dark eyes, he realized he was still staring.
He let his smile grow and failed to completely suppress images of pinning her to the wall and trailing his lips along her collarbone. You have work to do, remember? “Is Hayden around?”
The corner of her mouth drooped, a half-frown flitting in. She nodded behind her. “Right there, can’t miss him.”
Jared might argue he could miss a lot when he was enthralled with someone else. Except missing details was counter-intuitive to everything he believed. His mind balked at the fact he’d missed one as obvious as the full-grown man just a few feet away. He still couldn’t tear his gaze from Mikki. Professionalism warred with lust. Right. Promotion and reputation on the line. “Thanks. See you around?”
The only word he could think of for her expression was impish. “I’m hoping.”
It took the last of his restraint to end the conversation there, but he still couldn’t help watching her walk away.
After she was absorbed by the crowds, he forced his attention back to the task at hand. He caught Hayden’s eye long enough to let the other man know he was waiting, and then meandered around the booth. NSS had a more diverse product line than Skriddie. They also built websites and point of sale software, so they had a bit more to show off.
“Stealing company secrets?” Hayden asked with a laugh.
Jared tried to make his chuckle sound genuine, but was pretty sure he failed when the stilted laugh choked from his throat. He hated this game. If tossing passive aggressive insults were his thing, he’d considering firing back a, “Learning from the best.” He’d rather not dive into that kind of pettiness. He didn’t have to rein in his thoughts, either. This wasn’t a prospective client. “We both know you don’t keep the important stuff on display.”
“So true. Speaking of, I don’t suppose you’re working with anyone new.”
Jared gritted his teeth. He should have expected the question—Hayden was eternally looking for one of them to drop names about prospects—but today it carried a new cloud of irritation. “You know I won’t tell you that.”
“Had to try.” Hayden winked. “What can I do for you?”
“Congratulations on your newest security client.” Jared kept his posture casual and his attention on Hayden’s face. He was surprised when the other man looked away and rested his hands in his pockets.
“Thanks.” Hayden finally met his gaze again. “I need to get going.”
Jared had expected…well, he wasn’t sure what. Gloating, at least. Not whatever this was. Especially since he hadn’t asked the hard question yet. “Sure. I was hoping you could tell me one thing first.”
“As long as it’s quick.” Hayden took a step back.
So odd. If Tate were here, the conversation would probably go much differently. There would be deflection, and niceties, and a slow, subtle lead-in to the actual topic. Still, Jared had expected at least a little smugness about the lost client before he launched into the direct question. “They asked some things that seemed to come straight out of left field. Do you know anything about that?”
Hayden waved a hand. “Don’t know how I could. But I’ll tell you this, if the infamous Jared Tippins can’t fix all his internal security leaks, I don’t know how we could hope to if we had a problem.”
Jared couldn’t keep his shock from his face. He hadn’t even mentioned what cost them the deal.
“I really need to jet.” Hayden was already turning away. “We’ll
catch up soon.”
Jared didn’t need to stop him. The conversation had been enlightening enough as it was. Hayden’s behavior was too off-the-charts guilty, especially for a man who smooth talked his way through almost everything.
Something was going on, and Hayden wasn’t going to say anymore. Without solid answers, Jared would just have to cover as many bases as he could. He needed to get his own internal team on things, reaffirm internal operations were solid, and then put a plan in place to tie off the flow of bad press before it got worse.
He already had his phone out as he headed in the direction of the hotel, sending texts to Tate and Vivian to join him as soon as possible, and another back to the office to get the internal investigation started.
Five minute later, he’d secured a large booth in the back corner of a restaurant built to look like an old English pub. The setting hadn’t been as important to him as the fact that it was mostly empty.
He flipped his tablet open and started making lists. Writing notes. Getting every thought written down, regardless of how small it seemed.
By the time Tate and Vivian joined him, a plate of cheese fries sat untouched in the middle of the table, and he had a rough plan mocked up. He’d sifted through everything they’d already heard from lost clients—including the details of last night’s call—and had his top person investigating back at the home office.
“What’s up?” Vivian grabbed a fry, nibbled, and then grimaced and set it aside. “Cold.”
“Order more.” Jared wasn’t eating. He spun his tablet toward his colleagues, pointing to different sections of his notes as he talked. “We need to stop this before it gets worse. Distribute talking points to anyone who’s client facing, remind people about internal procedures. I’ll email you both. We need to start this sooner rather than later.”
Tate pulled his attention from the waitress after sending her away with a smile. “Is this overkill?”
Jared frowned. “You tell me. Do you want another sale like last night’s?”
Tate exhaled loudly. “Then is this enough?”
That was the problem. The one question Jared couldn’t stop asking, regardless of steps on a page. It should be plenty. And Tate was right. Under normal circumstances, it would be overkill. But obviously they were missing something, and they needed to make sure the situation didn’t get worse.
****
Mikki crossed her legs at the ankles and kicked them beneath her chair. Fortunately, the drape covering the front of the table she sat at should hide the movement from the room full of people. She sat on a raised stage, along with five other people—one a moderator standing at the podium separating the two tables.
Jared was on the other side, and she was doing her best to pretend he was just another person. Her racing pulse and vivid imagination disagreed, but she beat them back with moderate success. She needed full control of her sensibilities for this conversation.
Someone in the crowd asked an opened-ended question, directed at anyone. Mikki’s answer rose to tip of her tongue but stuck there. She wasn’t sure she liked this new internal filter that cared what people thought, even if that person was Jared Tippins. Everyone else was exchanging looks, but no one seemed to want to delve into a response.
Before she could force out her thoughts, Jared leaned forward, and in some of the most measured words she’d ever heard, handed out a nicely wrapped answer about internet security and industry standardization.
He was sexy, but not very outside the box as far as she could tell. Was this the man she’d been taught had revolutionized network security? A tiny snort slipped from her throat before she could stop it. Heat flooded her cheeks when several pairs of eyes swiveled in her direction.
Like most the people in the room, Jared locked his gaze on hers. His voice was smooth and confident. “I think Ms. Elford has a different opinion.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.” It didn’t matter if she disagreed with him or not. It wasn’t even because she hadn’t stopped thinking about him for more than a couple of minutes at a time all day. If she pretended hard enough, it didn’t even have to do with what he thought about her. This all centered around how much respect she had for the legend. If he said something was the case, he either knew more than she did about the subject, or would figure it out on his own later.
“Please.” There was no condescension in his tone. Only confidence and curiosity. “If you’ve got a different opinion, I’d like to hear it.”
Great. Now he’d backed her into a corner. Either way, she’d lose. She forced herself to look him in the eye, took a deep breath, and let the words flow. “That’s the problem with industry standards. They only matter to the people who are using them, and just because you’ve standardized something doesn’t mean everyone is complying.”
He shifted in his chair, turning more toward her, and rested his arms on the table. “It’s true, but offering standardization up front gives people a certain level of expectation. They know they’re getting specific services and that they can take that technology elsewhere if they need to expand or add on new components.”
He didn’t see it. The surprised realization sparked a new kind of confidence. She recognized the feeling inside—it was the same one she’d had six months ago when she’d breached the security on his network. The knowledge that for as much as this individual knew, he wasn’t perfect. She felt surer of her response this time. “Which is great, I agree. Standardization makes business run smoother.”
He smiled, nodded, and turned away.
“Except.” She spit out the single word and once again felt every head swivel in her direction. Having their attention is a good thing. Remember that. You don’t care if they don’t like what you have to say, as long as you state your point clearly. She had this right. “When it comes to security.”
Jared raised an eyebrow.
She leaned one arm on the table, directing her statements at him. “Some bored chaos hacker stumbles on your website and decides they want to leave a little ‘I was here’ note. Or even worse, they want access to your customer database. They’re not thinking, ‘Oh, I need to use industry standards to break in.’”
“But why are they doing it in the first place?” Jared countered. “Why are they even there? That scenario doesn’t make any sense.”
“Chaos hacker. The explanation is in the name. They don’t need a reason besides boredom. But if you’d prefer, let’s make it more personal.” She barely registered the hush in the room. Something in the back of her mind told her it was significant, but she was too focused on the debate. On making her point.
“Are we talking vengeful ex kind of personal?” Jared’s attention was all on her now, never wavering. “Because it’s true, that happens, but things like a girlfriend stealing your administrative password are a little harder to code for.” He turned his attention back to the room. “Not that measures can’t be put in place. Once again, industry standards dictate things like IP checking for logins. Trusted computer settings. There’s an intensive list of things that prevent the up-close and personal violation from becoming an issue.”
Vengeful ex. She hadn’t even thought about that. Something to add to her ever-growing list of possible loopholes she tucked away for work. “I’m not talking about the trusted friend, loved one, or family member. Though there are things to be concerned about there, too.” But that was a different conversation. “Everyone has beliefs, right? Something at their very core that they hold true?” She couldn’t help her satisfaction when he shrugged in agreement. “With today’s instant access to all things news—whether it’s really news or not—more and more people’s beliefs go on trial on social media every day.
“Suddenly, regardless of what you think or believe, someone decides they disagree with you, and they take it out on your business’s online presence. Graffiti on the website, maybe? Or again, stolen customer information. Names, phone numbers, addresses. Do you think they really stop and ask themselves, ‘d
oes this website follow industry standards?’ and then steer clear if the answer is yes?”
Jared’s mouth drew into a thin line, and he half rose from his chair. “But you’re painting the rare scenario. Standardization and certification statistics show those things impact less than one percent of online businesses. These are companies who are paid to verify things work the way the rules say. Time and again, research has proven the chaos hacker is the boogey man in an executive’s closet. It doesn’t happen to the everyday user. Statistically it doesn’t even register on the radar.”
“But that’s what we sell.” The words slipped out without her considering them. “Peace of mind. You’re not buying security because it happens all the time. You’re buying because you don’t ever want to be the person who said, ‘That’ll never happen to me.’ And then it does.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. It looked like he wanted to reply when the moderator cut in. “Thank you, Ms. Elford. Very enlightening. But I think we’ve gotten off topic. Next question?”
She turned her attention back to the audience, but not before she saw a hint of a smile whisper across Jared’s face. Had she impressed him? She liked the thought of that.
The rest of the panel passed without incident. After, she lingered, shaking hands and accepting business cards, along with a smattering of, “Great insight. We’ll be in touch.”
Part of her wanted to wait for Jared to extract himself from the small pocket of people around him. For professional reasons, of course. So far he’d had some very specific opinions on what did and didn’t work in this business, and she wanted to know how a brain like that crossed the line into innovative.
And maybe she was lingering just a little because every time she looked at him, new images flashed through her mind. Of his lips gliding up her throat. Or his hands on her hips. Or his mouth swallowing her cries in a hungry kiss.
Breaching His Defenses (Love Hack #1) Page 6