by JB Brooks
“It is,” said Stephen darkly. “That’s just one reason why this is such a shock.”
“Well, do we know how it happened? When did you hear about it?”
“I heard this morning. I had an early meeting scheduled with Scott, for half past seven. We were here in my office, and Dan came up just before eight to tell me.”
Dan was the IT Manager, head of IT for our branch. He reported to the IT Director in Sydney. It was strange that he’d come to Stephen because, although Stephen was one of our senior managers, he wasn’t involved in IT.
“Why did he come to you? Was there nobody else here?”
“Well, here’s the thing, Jane.” Stephen sat forward with his elbows on the desk. “It seems that the hacking was done from inside our offices—inside the firewall. It was done from my computer, and the access codes that were used were yours.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “But…how is that possible?”
“It was done on Friday evening, Jane.” Stephen’s voice was flat and hard. “When you and your boyfriend were here.”
“No,” I whispered in alarm, looking at his cold expression. “No, Stephen, that’s impossible. I didn’t do anything. I…I wouldn’t…” Panic rose in my throat. “Please, you must think… I wouldn’t even know how!”
“Not you, Jane. Your boyfriend.”
“No! Why would Matt do such a thing? And how would he know my access codes? There’s been some terrible mistake, Stephen.”
“I don’t know, Jane. Maybe you talk in your sleep! But I’m suspending you from work pending a disciplinary hearing. HR will be in touch with you. For now you have to leave, and you may not come back on these premises without permission.”
“God, Stephen—don’t do this! You know me.”
“I thought I did. And how well do you know that fancy boyfriend of yours? Do you even know what he does for a living? I saw how moon-eyed you were over him—too besotted to think straight!”
He stood and walked to the door, holding it open for me. “Leave now, Jane. Don’t make me have to arrange for you to be escorted from the building.”
I walked past him in a numb haze.
My fancy boyfriend.
My fancy computer hacker boyfriend.
My handbag was still over my shoulder. I hadn’t even put it down. I walked straight out of my office.
Stephen was wrong. I had asked Matt what he did for a living—and he’d told me. He’d even told me that e-Vent was one of his customers. I just hadn’t joined the dots. I’d been too moon-eyed.
People were staring at me again. Somehow they all knew what had happened, but how was that possible?
Scott!
The best form of defense is to attack.
That rat-bag dick!
I reached the parking garage, away from the prying eyes, and fumbled for my car keys. My hands were shaking so badly I could hardly pull them out of the zippered pouch of my bag. I got in and sat gripping the steering wheel, staring at the concrete wall in front of me.
Matt had used me.
When he found out that I worked for e-Vent, he used me. Fucked me and used me.
And I’d made it so easy for him! I’d let him into my house. He’d carried me home after our little sessions and I’d gone to sleep, leaving him free to do as he wished. He’d had all the time in the world to snoop on my computer, where he would have found my access codes, because I could log on to the e-Vent Intranet from home.
I lowered my forehead to the steering wheel in despair. My heart was breaking. I could feel it shattering, one small, brittle piece at a time. Such pain. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the hot tears forced their way out. They dropped off my nose, making pathetic wet blotches on my skirt.
And you thought you were a fool last night.
I drove home like a puppet. Everything was off-kilter. The day was too bright, the shadows were the wrong way. There was no traffic because everybody was at work, going about their normal lives. I envied them. My life was in ruins.
I parked in my driveway. I didn’t know what I was going to do next, other than go inside and cry—cry for my losses, my reputation, my job, my virginity and my heart.
Matt was sitting on my doorstep. I froze when I saw him and he jumped to his feet. “Thank god you came home!”
He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot and his complexion was grayish. He hadn’t shaved or combed his hair by the look of it.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed, the hurt and betrayal in my heart turning to sudden fury at the sight of him.
“Jane, I’m sorry. I know what happened this morning, but I’ve fixed it. I’ve sorted it out. You can go back to work whenever you want to.”
“You used me! I gave you everything, and you stabbed me in the back! How could you?” My voice was cracking and he looked alarmed.
“Please calm down, Jane. I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You should never have found out.”
“Oh really? And how did you think that would happen, asshole? You stole my access codes and hacked my company. On my boss’s computer. Did you think they wouldn’t mention it to me?”
“Jane, remember they hired me to hack them. I’m not a criminal. I haven’t done anything illegal!”
“It doesn’t have to be illegal to be wrong, Matt. You screwed me! Don’t treat me like a damn idiot on top of it all!”
“The point is, Jane, there’s a clause in my contracts with all my customers that says they can’t take any action against their own employees if I get the information that I need from one of them. In fact, it says that they can’t even tell the person they were involved. Befriending an employee is a very common way to get access, but I couldn’t do it if I thought my customers would go around firing their staff!”
“Befriending an employee,” I repeated hollowly. “Oh god. I’m the employee, aren’t I? You befriended me. You knew that I worked for e-Vent before we met, didn’t you?” I prayed he’d deny it, prayed that the betrayal wasn’t that deep, but he nodded.
“Yes, Jane. It was all arranged before I met you. But I had no idea what would happen between us.”
“Why me, Matt? Why did you pick me?”
“There were several possibilities. We needed somebody with enough user rights on the system. As Stephen’s PA, you have a high level of access. But in the end it was luck. There was a house for rent next door to yours.”
I was beginning to understand the magnitude of the setup. “You rented your house here because it was next door to me?”
“Yes, but Jane, you should never have known. Your IT department should have contacted the Sydney head office when they discovered my calling card. Sydney HR had instructions, and neither you nor Stephen should ever have been told, but your IT Manager went straight to Stephen and didn’t call it in. But I’ve already spoken to James Jameson, and it’s all been sorted out. They’ve explained to Steven and Dan, and you can go back.”
I closed my eyes. The warm sun beat incongruously on my back.
“I can’t go back, Matt. I can never go back. The whole office knows what happened. Scott was with Stephen this morning when Dan told him about the hack, and he’s told everybody. They already knew before I arrived—in fact, I was literally the last to know. If I go back, I’ll always be the fool who slept with the wrong guy and gave away the company secrets.”
“Oh Christ,” whispered Matt, his skin turning pale. “I’m truly sorry, Jane. I’ll fix this for you, please give me a chance.”
I lifted my chin and looked him in the eye.
“I’ll give you a chance, Matt. I’ll give you two minutes to get the hell off my property before I call the police. I don’t ever want to see you again!”
I sidestepped round him and let myself into my house, slamming the door behind me. I waited with a pounding heart for two minutes then looked out the window. He was gone. With a great, gasping sob, I sank to the floor and rocked myself as I cried.
I sat there for hours, u
nable to move past the crushing pain in my chest. It grew dark and my muscles were stiff. I got up at last and dragged myself through to the bedroom. I was lightheaded and I realized that I’d had nothing to eat or drink all day, having skipped breakfast because I’d been so late. I was too shattered to care and I simply took off my clothes, dumping them on the floor, and climbed into bed, heartbroken and exhausted.
Chapter Nine
Tuesday
I slept for fourteen hours, dreamlessly, then woke in despair to find that the horrible conversation with Matt was still on endless playback in my head. I had a shower, dressed in old jeans and a t-shirt and went to the kitchen to see what I could eat. I didn’t feel like cooking for myself, not even frying an egg. There was a tin of tomato soup in the cupboard, so I poured it into a mug and heated it up in the microwave.
I sat down at the kitchen table with my soup. I had to make plans. I needed to find a job. But all I could think about was Matt. I hated him now, but my treacherous heart and body longed for him. I could remember everything we’d done in such vivid detail, and I ached for him. After an hour the soup was cold, so I microwaved it again and forced myself to drink it. I peered out of my kitchen window at his house but there was no sign of life.
The soup revived me slightly and I decided to get on to the internet and look for jobs. Anything was better than sitting around thinking about Matt.
I went into my study and turned on my computer. I would probably never be able to look at a computer again without thinking about him. On impulse, I tried to log on to the e-Vent Intranet.
Access Denied.
Not much of a surprise. My computer pinged and the inbox icon flashed—I had mail. I clicked on it and waited while my messages loaded. There were three from my mother, some forwarded jokes and a couple from my friends. My phone bill was there, and some advertising, which I deleted. There was also one from Matt. My heart started to pound. I stared at the subject line.
Please read this, Jane!
I’d never given him my email address, but why would that stop him? He probably had all my personal information. A surge of anger coursed through my chest and I hit delete. I was definitely not going to read his message!
Thirty seconds later the computer pinged—more incoming mail. Matt’s message popped up in my inbox three more times.
Please read this, Jane!
Please read this, Jane!
Please read this, Jane!
Damn it! I quickly deleted all three, annoyed.
Almost immediately it pinged again. I watched in shock as twenty, then fifty of the same message loaded, filling my screen. What the hell was going on?
I started deleting them frantically. More pinging. More messages. Hundreds of them. I couldn’t keep up. Then suddenly there was a different subject line.
Read it if you want to learn how to stop it.
Read it if you want to learn how to stop it.
Read it if you want to learn how to stop it.
He was doing it on purpose! The bastard was spamming me or something. Definitely harassing me. I got important emails, he couldn’t be filling up my inbox like this! I kept deleting. He’d give up sooner or later.
Another new subject line.
It will never stop until you read it!
It will never stop until you read it!
It will never stop until you read it!
I would fool him. I clicked on one email to open it then immediately closed it again, not giving in to the temptation to read any of it. I had a fleeting glimpse of a long message, more text than could fit on the screen, and then it was gone. Now the computer would think I’d read it. I waited expectantly.
Ping.
Another flood of messages. It hadn’t worked.
I considered calling the police then decided against it. The first thing they’d want to know is what the message said, and I also didn’t want to explain the whole situation to them—it was very humiliating.
Maybe he’d put something in the message, like a link to click on, that I’d only see if I read it. I opened another one, squinted my eyes slightly so that the text was all blurry, and skimmed down the page, looking for underlined text, or any sort of button or icon. I had to scroll down a long way but there was nothing that I could see to click on. While I was looking, another rush of them came into my inbox. I now had over two thousand unread messages. I deleted the one I’d just looked at and stared at my computer in despair. A headache was forming and I rubbed my temples.
I was going to have to read one, since I couldn’t think of anything else to try. There was nothing he could say that would make me forgive him but, against my better judgment, I was curious, although his message would undoubtedly upset me.
With a deep breath I opened one and began to read.
Dear Jane,
I am so sorry about everything that happened. I agree that what I did to you was morally wrong even though it was not illegal, and there is no excuse for it.
When I realized how serious our relationship was becoming, I should have stopped, but it all happened so quickly. Because of my history with James Jameson, this was not just an ordinary job, and I was very committed to completing it. I thought that you would be protected by the terms and conditions of my contract with e-Vent.
I have known JJ for almost ten years. He hired my company to hack e-Vent’s computer system by any means possible. My meeting yesterday was with him, in a secret location. It is a two-hour drive from here. I spent the afternoon and evening going through the details of how I hacked e-Vent, and explaining further weaknesses and possible solutions. I had a late dinner with him, and further discussions about his future IT plans. I do not normally supply any additional information over and above the details of how I hacked the system, but JJ is a special case. Our meeting ran very late, and it took me an additional two hours to drive home again. My contract with e-Vent is fully discharged, which is why I can tell you some of this detail now.
As a token of my regret for what happened, I am donating the entire profit from the e-Vent job to charity. It is an amount of approximately $ 57, 000. I hope this will demonstrate to you how sincere my feelings are. If you are willing to speak to me again, you may choose the charity.
I wanted to speak to you about something very important last night, but understandably you didn’t come to my house. I would have preferred to speak to you face-to-face, but this is what I wanted to say. I am leaving tomorrow (Wednesday) to go back to my home. There is no reason for me to continue to live here, now that the e-Vent job is done. I was going to ask you to come with me.
I have deep feelings for you, Jane, and I want to continue our relationship and see where it leads.
I am not asking you because of what happened yesterday with your job. I bought two plane tickets on Sunday afternoon, before everything went wrong. You can check the date on my credit card statement. I was going to ask you to take a couple of weeks off from work and come home with me.
I’m sure that you must hate me now, but if there is the smallest hope that you might forgive me, and that our relationship means something to you, then please give me a chance. Come home with me, Jane. Give me a month, and I’ll prove to you that I am not the wrong guy for you. Or I’ll take a week, or even a day—whatever you are prepared to give me.
Whatever you decide, I will help you to find another job. I have hundreds of contacts, and most of them would gladly hire somebody on my recommendation. Please let me do this, at least, to make up for the wrong I have done you. You do not even need to speak to me for this. Just send me your résumé, and I’ll do the rest.
By the way, your employment record at e-Vent will show that you resigned of your own free will, and no mention of what happened will be made on your file. They will also give you excellent references if you ever need them.
The only way to stop the emails being sent to you is to reply to me. Email me, phone me or text me, and I will stop.
Yours (even if you don’t want me),
Matt
I read it through three times, tears pouring down my face, while my inbox filled up with more messages. As always, he’d taken me completely by surprise. His regret was obvious and profound.
What do you have to lose?
I was going to forgive him. How could I not?
I thought for a moment then smiled through my tears and clicked on Reply.
Dear Matt,
Luckily for you, you have caught me in a situation where I have nothing left to lose.
I will go with you, on the following conditions:
1. For a full two weeks, there will be no sex of any kind—not even kissing. I need time to get to know you.
2. After two weeks we’ll have sex. Where, when and how I say. You will submit to me completely.
3. You will be punished for snooping around my house without permission. Ensure that you pack the butt plugs and other toys.
Please reply to confirm that you accept these conditions, and to let me know what time we leave tomorrow. And stop sending those damn emails!
Maybe yours,
Jane
I hit Send before I could have any second thoughts. Almost immediately the pinging ended and emails stopped flowing into my inbox. Two minutes later, I got a reply from Matt.
Agreed. We leave for the airport at noon tomorrow. Go pack.
Chapter Ten
Wednesday
I was putting the finishing touches on my packing, a glorious sense of anticipation thrumming through my veins. We’d be leaving in less than an hour. I’d just finished talking to my mother, who was thrilled to hear that I had a boyfriend, and I was going away with him.
“Oh my darling Jane, I’m so happy for you! I’ve been waiting for this for years!”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll text you when we land so you know I got there okay.”
I stood in front of my wardrobe, wondering what else I should pack. My suitcase wasn’t quite full. I had a sudden flash of inspiration. Reaching to the back of the hanging section, I pulled out my pink sundress with the huge bow.