Wire (Pierce Securities Book 2) (3 page)

Evan knew ‘having a good time’ meant she was good in the sack. “Camp?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m calling this place where I’m going to learn ninja skills. It’s a real nice place, my parents have been saving up for it since I was fifteen, when they found out I had this,” he said, pointing to his eyes.

Zack was going to some sort of conference for the newly blind, where they were going to teach him skills to learn to cope with his condition. Evan hoped it would help him find a direction in his new world. Even though it was a degenerative disease, and he had been slowly going blind for a while now, he knew Zack was proud. He was going to need something to do with himself—a purpose.

None of them were very good at floating around aimlessly. Evan had his moments himself. He’d been doing really well with his career software programing until he’d done that article in
TEKNIX
. He was young and stupid, and for some reason, agented. He’d gotten a PR person when he started working with the politicians and the Senate House Committee with his research. It was the agent who’d started getting him interviews on TV and in magazines. His own ego had done the rest.

After all his research was discounted, he’d tried to hide, going underground and immersing himself in the gaming world. Yeah. He was a geek. He’d spent two years living on his sofa, eating cereal, drinking beer, and gaming. Until he’d met Quinten on a rare night out.

“You want a going away party?” Miriam asked, still doing some weird post in the corner, looking like she was ready to become a pretzel. Her question was directed at Zack, who had moved on to the bench press, with Quinten as a spotter.

“Duh. Of course I want a going away party.” He stretched his neck back so he was aiming his gaze at Quinten. “Can Bonnie come? Please?”

“Not if you’re still with Jenna, ass. I’ve told her what a douche you are.” Quinten didn’t love Zack when he talked about the big guy’s sister. He tolerated him other times, but Zack had a hard-on bigger than Texas for Bonnie, and Quinten and Simon didn’t like it. At all.

“I’ll break it off with Jenna before the party then. Maybe Bonnie can give me the right kind of send-off,” he grunted out while he lifted. Quinten’s hands fell to his sides, suddenly unwilling to help if he got into trouble.

“Dude. Do you ever listen to the shit that comes out of your mouth? You don’t talk about my sister like that. Ever.” Quinten’s face was a growling mask of anger, and Evan found himself flinching, even though it wasn’t directed toward him. He winced at the idea of the massive man in a fight ring against him.

Zack put the bar in the holder and sat up. “What am I supposed to say? That I’ve been in love with her since we were kids? It wouldn’t matter, you’d still hate me.” His voice rising, Zack stood. “Just because I don’t have the money you assholes do doesn’t make me any less of a human.”

Quinten’s jaw clenched and Evan watched warily. “No, it’s the fact that you’re a pig who treats women like they’re disposable that makes you less of a human.”

“Fuck you, Quinten. You know that’s not true,” Zack’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “I’ve got a therapist appointment. Docs need to make sure I’m not wacko before camp. Catch y’all later.”

Evan grabbed a towel to dry off his sweat, musing, “That train’s already left the station, bro.” Zack flipped him off as he walked out the door.

They were silent for a while—Quinten, Miriam, and Evan—until Evan broke the silence. “He’s right, you know. You were wrong. He treats women okay, he just goes through them like Kleenex.”

“Yeah, and what am I supposed to do with Bonnie after he finishes with her? I don’t want her hurt.” The man’s voice had softened but the anger was still palpable.

Miriam straightened and stepped from the corner, Quinten snapping his head to watch her walk toward him. “You’re her brother, Quint, not her keeper. If he hurts Bonnie, she gets hurt, then gets over it. But it’s her choice to make. Stop being all alpha protective of her. She’s not your responsibility.”

Quinten’s face softened as Miriam walked over and started picking up dirty towels. Evan watched with interest. He’d noticed Quinten seemed to listen to her more than the rest of them, and he wondered if it was because she was sort of a mom to them all or if there was something more there.

“She’s my little sister, Mir.” Evan watched with interest as Quinten’s entire demeanor changed toward their office manager. His face softened with a patience he didn’t normally show to the rest of the guys.

“And she’s also a grown woman. I say if she wants Zack as badly as he wants her, let them have each other. Quit being a dumbass about it.” Evan chuckled to himself. If there was something there, it was all in Quinten’s head. Miriam didn’t seem romantically inclined. That was something interesting to focus on instead of his own issues.

Simon strode in, interrupting the moment between Quinten and Miriam. A rare grin split his face. He spoke to Evan, “That new client? She asked for you specifically, and after listening to the job, it’s right up your alley.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Corporate espionage at PSL.”

Evan dropped to the floor, his mouth agape. “PSL? The gaming company?” This was way better than the cheating spouses Evan had been doing checks on. That shit was depressing enough to make someone not want to get into a relationship. Ever.

“One and the same.” Simon walked over to the free weights, picking up two and sitting on the bench for his bicep curls.

“What’s up?”

“You ever heard of The Crimson Lady?”

“Yeah, she’s a non-player character in their biggest game,
Realm of Worlds
.” Simon quirked his eyebrow and crossed his arms, so Evan continued. “It’s a secondary character in the game, not one that plays the game, but more like a piece of scenery that interacts with the players. I think she was actually a fan-made character, not originally in the game.”

“Well, she’s the scapegoat for an alarming number of attacks in cities across the nation, and the FBI’s involved, but they’re not moving fast enough, and it has the owner getting antsy.” He breathed through a rep. “She wants to hire you to go undercover and see if you can uncover the mole. She’s convinced that’s what it is.”

“Why does it have to be an insider? Why not the Pat-Tek CEO?” The highly publicized temper tantrum of the Pat-Tek CEO during the hostile takeover PSL had staged had been media fodder for months.

“It’s your job to find out. You start work there tomorrow.”

Quinten started talking to Simon. “You hear that fucktard talking about Bonnie? Like he’s got a chance with her. By the way, have you figured out what’s going on with her? Has she talked to you at all?” Miriam sighed loudly, but Quinten ignored her, totally focused on Simon. Evan didn’t care to hear the overbearing brothers determine her fate; his mind was too wrapped up in his new assignment.

In the shower—a cheap stall installed when they built the gym in the office—Evan washed his hair as he thought about the job. He’d only heard of two attacks here in the city. Homeless men, one beaten, one set on fire, both by teenagers who’d claimed The Crimson Lady told them to do it. It sounded like someone taking advantage of impressionable kids, but if their agenda was to topple PSL, that would make sense.

After his shower, Evan logged onto his computer and did a simple search. Four cases in the last two months, all four either homeless or prostitutes—the unwanted of the earth. People with no families who’d been beaten senseless, only the one being lit on fire while he slept. All had been perpetrated by teenagers, heavily into the gaming subculture, who claimed they’d been told to do it by The Crimson Lady. Evan played it, a lot. It was a sandbox game, which meant the characters in the Role Playing Game could wander anywhere, and as The Crimson Lady had been programmed in, she showed up in random, unexpected places in the game.

Evan saved the pertinent details and opened up a search window for PSL, not learning anything he didn’t already know. One of the only tech companies with a woman CEO, PSL stood for Paige Stygman Lawson, the woman’s name, he assumed. There were no public images of her, and the private ones he hacked into were grainy images showing no detail. It was typical; most of those images were from public cameras. Using his own software he’d developed, he hacked into video feeds of security cameras in cabs and stores where she’d used her credit cards. If she knew half as much about computers as she should, she probably developed her own software to protect her privacy. Kudos.

The hostile takeover that happened six months ago seemed to have been affected quietly. He focused his searches on that event and the happenings since involving the companies involved. Pat-Tek shares had dropped, allowing PSL to buy up the majority, accepting defeat in a simple end to a long-running war which had been waged in the media for years between the two companies. It effectively drove the elusive CEO underground. Nobody had seen him since. Pictures Evan found showed a grossly obese Roger Patton with wiry red curls framing a ruddy complexion, not the attractive software CEO people liked to imagine. Paige had accused him of stealing intellectual property on numerous occasions, dragging him into court at least three times over the last five years. All of the cases had been settled during plea deals where he had admitted culpability and forked over an unknown sum. He hadn’t been without his own accusations, though. He’d drug her into court almost as many times in a war that was only ended with the takeover. Rumor had it Patton was somewhere in Costa Rica, but none of the sightings had been confirmed.

Evan hacked into the PSL human resources documents next, listing names of all employees who had been retained during the proceedings. He was lost in his list when Simon poked his head into the darkened office.

“Evan. Go home. You start tomorrow.”

“Gotcha, Boss.” Evan sighed and stretched his arms overhead. He’d been at this for hours, just gathering information, and still had more to collect. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be in a cubicle tomorrow. He needed privacy to do his job. Not people peeking over his shoulder, asking what he was up to.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Paige locked her car and walked to her office, nerves in overdrive. Sure, she’d hired the best mind in the industry to put a stop to The Crimson Lady, but it just so happened that she’d slept with him last April, and left him sleeping in bed.

She would never, ever admit to how long she stood there staring at Evan Rocco, his golden skin glowing in the morning’s rays as they fell onto his muscular back and the curve of his spectacular ass peeking out from under the sheets. Paige would never tell a soul that she’d whispered to him she was sorry, she wished she could stay, she wished things were different.

Nope. Never would confess. Her secrets would stay her own.

And it had been easy. It’s not like she really had anyone to tell. All of her friends were her employees, and to tell them would seem like bragging. She could be as friendly as she wanted, it didn’t mean they were really her friends—she simply signed their paychecks. And to tell them she had slept with Evan Rocco seemed sacrilegious. Most of them wouldn’t understand the significance. They didn’t know she had worshipped him his entire career. Besides, it was a memory she wanted to keep to herself a little while longer, if not the rest of her life. Because that night had truly been the best night of her life.

God, she was pathetic.

And she had hired him. So there was still the whole,
I’m paying you
thing to get past. He would be nice to her, because she was a client, even though he probably hated her for leaving before he woke up.

But what if he didn’t? What if it wasn’t the memorable night for him that it had been for her? He’d probably slept with dozens of women since April. What if he saw her and didn’t recognize her?

That thought was worse.

Trembling, she fought the keypad by the door, having to try twice to get her code in right.

“Sandra?”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Turning, she offered a wan smile, but it fell as soon as she saw him in the flesh once again. He looked stunning, as always, and it took her breath away.

His hair was neater than it had been when she’d left him last, and he was wearing a suit, which was almost laughable, since she’d seen him naked and knew he preferred jeans. It was in all the interviews she’d memorized.

“Do you work here?” His coffee-colored eyes bored into her, making puddles of her insides.

“Yeah.” A croak came from her mouth, and she opened the door as he raised his arm and held it above her head to allow her to go in first.

Attempting to scoot past him without touching the rock hard body, she barely heard him speak to her. “I’m just starting today. I wanted to get here early and meet the boss, but I’m not sure what my official title is… About that night… I’ve been—”

“Operations Manager,” she squeaked out, focusing on his feet. She was not ready for him to meet the boss. It was easier to look at his loafers than his face. The curve of his mouth that she knew made her knees weak when it kissed her neck. The tongue that had travelled over every inch of her body. So she looked at his expensive loafers instead. “You’re the new Operations Manager.”