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Authors: Tracey Garvis Graves

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BOOK: Heart-Shaped Hack
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She’d locked the door and was halfway down the street when she heard the footsteps. She slowed her pace, and when she looked nonchalantly over her shoulder, she observed a man trying to open the door of the food pantry. He rattled the doorknob in irritation and cursed under his breath as he turned to go. She scanned the street. Every meter was full, but there wasn’t an old blue car in sight. Maybe he’d left it in the ramp around the corner.

Afraid he would leave before she had a chance to talk to him, she started running, meaning only to reach out and grab his sleeve. Unfortunately, she was wearing ballet flats that didn’t have much traction, and since she’d built up a bit more momentum than she’d anticipated, she slid right into him. In an effort to maintain her balance, her arm became wrapped around his throat.

“Gah!” he yelled. “You’re choking me.”

“Sorry,” Kate said. She disentangled herself and took a step back.

He massaged his throat. “What is
wrong
with you?”

“I’m just excited because I thought my plan had failed, but it didn’t. It worked!”

“Your plan?”

“To catch you in the act of making another donation. You
are
here to make a donation, aren’t you?”

“That was my intent, yes.”

Kate clapped her hands together excitedly. “Now I finally know who you are. Oh, Helena is going to be so happy for me.”

“Is Helena insane too?”

“I’m not insane. I’m determined.”

“I’ll say.” He looked at her warily. “So, what’s my name? You said you know who I am.”

That took a bit of the wind out of Kate’s sails. “I don’t actually know your name. Not yet. But I know what you look like.”

And speaking of that.

How in the name of all that was holy could Helena have failed to mention so many crucial details about his appearance? Helena had guessed his age as early thirties, and Kate would agree. Helena had said he was tall, and that was also true. Kate was five nine, but even if she were wearing heels, he’d still have several inches on her. Helena had been right about his hair being somewhere between blond and brown. Dirty-blond, Kate decided. It was long enough to cover his ears and graze his shirt collar, but too artfully messy to be called shaggy. The scruff on his face was also carefully cultivated; this was not a man who was simply between shaves. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of green, and they stood out against his fair skin. He was wearing jeans, an untucked white button-down shirt, expensive-looking loafers, and a brown leather jacket.

He was stunning.

“How long have you been trying to… catch me?” he asked.

“This is my first attempt,” Kate said. “Initially I’d assumed your donation was a onetime thing. It was only after the second one that I realized there was a pattern. I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

He seemed to be considering the information. “I see.”

“What’s with all the secrecy?” she asked. “Why have you never given me the opportunity to thank you?”

“I hadn’t decided whether or not I was going to introduce myself.”

That was a strange thing to say. “But you did see me on TV, right? That’s why you’re making the donations?”

“When you wore the short skirt? Yes, I saw you.”

Kate’s face grew warm. “That was Helena’s idea. We figured it couldn’t hurt. We were desperate.”

“Do you frequently employ the use of sex appeal for personal gain?”

“It was for the babies. And shall I point out that it worked? You’re here, aren’t you?”

He smiled. “Ah, you’re feisty. I like that.”

Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

“Just a man with a mission.”

“Independently wealthy, or does the money grow on a tree in your backyard?”

“I steal from the rich to give to the poor.”

“So, your name? Is it Robin Hood then?”

“Clever, but no. My name is Ian.”

“Ian…?”

“Just Ian.”

“I’m Kate Watts.”

His expression was quite patronizing. “Yes, I know. You were looking right into the camera when you said your name.”

“I wasn’t sure you caught it.”

“I did, Katie. I catch everything.”

“Kate,” she said firmly. Katie made her think of pigtails and strawberry lip gloss. Sneakers and training bras. Kate was partial to lipstick and blowouts. She wore the best lingerie she could afford under her jeans and casual tops, and when she dressed up, her stilettos were sky-high.

“So,
Katie
,” he said, handing her a paper bag. “I trust you can put this to good use.”

“I can. We desperately need it, and I’m truly grateful. I told Helena that if you made another donation I wouldn’t get upset if I didn’t get the chance to thank you. But since I have, I want to tell you how much this means to me and especially to the people who count on this food pantry.”

“You’re welcome. Glad I could help.” Lazily, he looked her up and down. “You look good in jeans, but I like the short skirt better. I’ll see you around, Katie.”

She stood there openmouthed as Ian laughed and made his way down the street, and she watched him until he turned the corner and disappeared.

CHAPTER FOUR

Kate was taking a break and having coffee and a muffin at Wilde Roast Café when Ian slid into the booth and sat across from her. He was wearing a lightweight cream-colored sweater with a tan-and-green-patterned shirt underneath, and he smelled good.

“Hello again.”

Confused, Kate looked around. “Where did you come from?”

“I walked in the door like everyone else.”

“Do you live nearby?” Kate lived in the St. Anthony Main neighborhood of Northeast Minneapolis. The food pantry was conveniently located on SE Main Street, which was a short three-block walk from her apartment. The quiet brick-paved street was lined with restaurants, shops, and a movie theater and included a stunning view of the Mississippi River and St. Anthony Falls. There were also bars that featured live music and plenty of green space in nearby parks.

He shook his head. “Not really.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I felt like talking to you again. You’re seated, so you probably won’t try to strangle me this time.”

“How did you know where to find me?” She was tucked away in a back booth instead of one of the tables near the windows that looked out over SE Main, so it wasn’t like he’d walked by and spotted her.

He held a steaming cup of coffee and blew on it to cool it. “I tracked your credit card activity. According to Capital One, you bought a cup of coffee and a muffin here twelve minutes ago.”

“You tracked my credit card?” Her voice sounded rather loud and shrieky.

He held a finger in front of his mouth. “Shh, Katie Long Legs. That information is for your ears only. How’s your coffee? Would you like a refill?”

Kate did not appreciate being shushed, but she lowered her voice. “Are you some kind of cyberthief?” she whispered. And since when were criminals so well-dressed and impeccably groomed?

“I did not
steal
your credit card number. I simply accessed your account to see where and when you’d used it last. Then I came here.”

“If you wanted to talk to me again, why didn’t you just go to the food pantry?”

He looked at her like it was obvious. “Because you’re not there. You’re here at this café.”

“If you’re not a cyberthief, then what are you?”

“I’m a hacker.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Most definitely.”

“When you said you steal from the rich to give to the poor, I thought you were kidding. Is that how you get the money?”

“I don’t steal it. I appropriate it from people who shouldn’t have it in the first place. Then I give it to those who are more deserving.”

Kate twisted her napkin. “I can’t keep the money. I’ve already spent the first two donations, but if you come back to the food pantry with me, I can return the most recent one. It’s still locked in the safe because I wasn’t planning on going shopping until tomorrow.”

“No, Katie. I don’t want it back. It’s for you. It’s
for the babies
.”

“It’s wrong,” she said quietly.

“Is it?”

“It’s against the law.”

“Trust me when I say the people I took it from don’t want the law involved any more than I do.”

“What are you saying? That you’re a thief who steals from other thieves?”

He wrinkled his nose, and it was adorable.

Stop! Thief!

“It sounds so distasteful when you say it like that. I prefer master appropriator of ill-gotten funds. You can call me master for short.”

“I have lots of things I’d like to call you. Master is not one of them.”

“That’s okay, Katie Brown Eyes, as long as the other names are favorable.”

“Stop that! We are not on a nickname basis.”

“After seeing how riled up you’re getting? Not a chance.”

“Am I supposed to accept that this is okay because you’re stealing money that has already been stolen once? Instead of giving it to charitable organizations, why not give it back to the people it was stolen from in the first place?”

“I only wish I could, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“I’m pretty sharp. I can probably keep up.”

“I’ve no doubt that you could.”

“But you’re not going to tell me.”

“Not right now.”

Kate let out a frustrated sigh.

“I assure you that you can spend the money with a clear conscience,” Ian said.

“You can’t assure me, because now I know it once belonged to someone else. And there lies my ethical dilemma.”

“You’ll have to take my word for it then.”

His word? Was he crazy? “I’m just trying to help people, Ian. I don’t like the position you’ve put me in.”

“Please don’t be upset with me. I really do want you to keep the money. For the babies.”

Kate picked up her muffin, but she’d lost her appetite so she put it back down and brushed the crumbs from her hands. “You said you felt like talking to me again. Why? What do you want?”

“I thought maybe we could be friends.”

“A few days ago you hadn’t decided whether you even wanted to introduce yourself.”

“Clearly I’ve made my decision.”

“Why would you want to be friends? You hardly know me.”

“You’d be amazed at what I know about you, Katie.”

Oh, yes. The credit card. She’d have to cancel that immediately. And she’d choose a new, stronger online password that Ian would not be able to crack.

“I appreciate the donations very much, and I will spend the last one because my clients desperately need it, but I don’t want any more of your money. And I really don’t see us becoming friends.”

Kate had been harboring some fairly romantic fantasies about running into Ian again, but in not one of those fantasies had she ever cast him as anything other than the hero, and certainly never the villain. He had ruined everything.

“I’ll win you over eventually. I’m very charming that way.” As he got up and walked away, he turned and said over his shoulder, “Until next time, Katie.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Kate arrived at Vic’s fifteen minutes before her one-o’clock lunch date. After regretfully admitting to herself that there was nothing to pursue with Ian—on account of the fact he was apparently some kind of felon—she’d moped around for a week and then scrolled through the inbox of her online dating account. After deleting multiple stomach-turning requests for casual sex and naked pictures, she sifted through what was left to see if anyone interesting had messaged her. So far she hadn’t had the best luck with online dating, but Kent, the man she was meeting this afternoon, sounded promising. He was thirty-six, handsome, and worked as a stockbroker for Morgan Stanley. He loved cooking, animals, and long hikes in the woods. They’d been exchanging e-mails for several days, and the last couple contained mildly flirtatious comments from Kent about how attractive she was and how much he was looking forward to meeting her in person. He seemed nice enough even if he did want to spend what Kate felt was a bit too much time discussing her physical description, especially her body type. She was one of those enviable women who was long legged and slim hipped but still in possession of full breasts. And they were real. Even so, she worked hard to stay in shape. She attended a Pilates class several times a week, and she walked everywhere. For her profile photo, she’d had Helena take a full-length picture of her standing next to the sign for the food pantry. She was wearing jeans and a sweater, and her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Kate wasn’t interested in false advertising, and she wanted the men who looked at her profile to know exactly the type of woman they’d be meeting. Apparently it wasn’t enough, because Kent had sent not one but two messages yesterday asking for additional clarification.

Do you count calories or follow a specific diet plan?
he’d asked. What the hell was that all about? Frankly, she sometimes ate like a truck driver because she was hungry, dammit. And hunger was a bit of a hot button for Kate, considering she spent her days making sure people got enough to eat. That message was followed up with
What kind of clothing would you say highlights your best features?
What did that even mean, and why did he care what kind of clothes she wore?

Ian likes short skirts, and that didn’t seem to bother you
.

Ian just liked to push her buttons. And besides, Ian was no longer in the picture.

Kate glanced at her watch discreetly. Kent was now five minutes late. Just then her phone vibrated to signal an incoming e-mail. Kent was probably reaching out to let her know he was running behind. Very thoughtful.

She opened her e-mail and smiled. The message
was
from Kent.

I changed my mind. I’m not interested.

What?

In addition to confusing, Kate found the message rude and unacceptable and fired off a reply.

You’re a tool.

His response came ten seconds later.

You’re just bitter because you’re fat.

Kate stared down at her phone as if it somehow held an explanation for the bizarre exchange. She was so deep in thought that the scrape of a chair being pulled back startled her.

BOOK: Heart-Shaped Hack
8.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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