Breaching His Defenses - Allyson Lindt (best short novels .TXT) 📗

Jared’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He should have given Mikki his number. He couldn’t help his smile at the thought. Great, he was acting like a crushing teenager. Which, when he thought about it, wasn’t as much of an issue as it should have been.

He pulled up the text from Dewson, and his gut turned in on itself. We’re infected.

Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes someone clicked something in an email, and it was always isolated immediately. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he’d asked Dewson to look into the rumors Rosen had mentioned. This couldn’t be related. He sent back a reply. How bad?

Trojan. Database array.

Shit. His mind was already whirring ahead several steps, even while he executed each thing that needed to be done now. Are we clean now?

Probably. Need a second set of eyes.

A directory of names ticked through his head. Who could check Dewson’s work? His staff was small, but they were all good at what they did. No, he’d do this one himself. Another question slammed into the forefront of his thoughts, pushing all his lists and plotting to the side.

It died at the tip of his tongue. Something told him he didn’t want to know the answer, but that was ridiculous. It wasn’t like it mattered. Still, he had to force his fingers to type it out. Do we know where it came from?

Jared had stepped aside from the flow of traffic and had all his attention focused on his phone. The seconds ticked away, and his hands twitched. How long did it take to type out a name, or a “no”?

When his phone finally vibrated, he jumped. Tension ached in his temples. You.

A bitter laugh slipped from his throat. If his promotion hadn’t already been shot, it would have been now.

More digging uncovered that the message had his name on it, and someone in IT had opened it and clicked the link, but after having Dewson forward the appropriate information along—message headers and such—he knew it hadn’t come from his computer or phone.

But it was an amazing imitation. Who knew how to do something like that? Jared pushed aside the nagging in the back of his head. It was an old scar. Resurfacing insecurities. Mikki may have been at the root of the original problem, but just finding out he didn’t know about that simple indiscretion had torn her up. Hadn’t it? There was no way she was doing something actually vindictive.

He told Dewson he’d take care of the rest—double-checking to make sure the virus was gone, figuring out what systems had been breached, and uncovering out how someone had tricked their network into believing the email was from him.

He took a deep breath and corralled the rambling bullshit to the back of his thoughts. If they were home, he’d take point on something this serious and his people would back him up. But he wasn’t trusting it to anyone except himself and his friends. Tate and Vivian could keep up under his direction, despite their different career paths. Between the three of them, they would make this right.

Within minutes, they were waiting for him in a quiet corner of the hotel lobby. He gave them the lowdown as quickly as possible.

Vivian’s brow creased with concern. “You’re okay, right?”

Besides stressed, concerned, and a little wounded that this had happened under his watch, it was all status quo. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Tate cleared his throat, and Jared’s head swung in that direction.

Tate shrugged. “This kind of violation isn’t exactly easy to pull off, is it?”

“You know it’s not.”

Tate glanced at Vivian, but she was still fiddling with her purse. He looked back at Jared. “So who would love to see us fall? Who has someone working for them who knows how to do something like this?”

He was asking if Mikki was behind this. Jared wanted to snap at him for the assumption. What he hated even more was that part of him was asking the same question, even though she’d just finished apologizing.

He stashed the doubt. “If someone on Hayden’s side did this, we’ll shut them down. First, we have to make sure we’re clean, we have to make sure this won’t happen again, and we have to do it now. Where can we set up?”

Tate’s face twitched with a bitter smile. “I’ve got the high roller suite. A lot more room to spread out.”

“Good call.” Jared glanced at Vivian. “Grab your laptop. Track down the concierge and see where we can find a couple of clean ones as well. Out of the box. Nearest Fry’s, Walmart, whatever. I’ll grab the secure hotspot.”

“Right. I’ll meet you both upstairs as soon as I can.” Vivian turned away even as she spoke.

A hollow ache throbbed under Jared’s ribcage. It wasn’t true. This was bad luck, and it had nothing to do with Mikki. Except it did. Even if it didn’t come directly from her, her carelessness, combined with a scary knack for the obtuse, could have made this happen. He shoved the thoughts aside. Wallowing could wait.

“Can we get Legal on the phone?” he asked as he and Tate made their way to the elevators.

“Can you prove NetSys is behind this? Like undeniable, someone’s-grandpa-could-understand-it proof?”

Jared clenched his teeth. They both knew proof was almost impossible. Some hackers signed their names, but not usually those involved in corporate espionage. Besides, right now it all pointed back to Jared anyway. Unless they could pinpoint where the infected message had actually come from, there was no point in doing anything besides plugging the hole as quickly as possible.

****

Mikki set her phone on the counter in the bathroom and cranked the volume. It wasn’t as good as having it attached to the docking station she had back home, but the echo of the tiles gave her enough to sing along with. She wiped the steam from the mirror. Happy eyes and cheeks flushed with the heat of her shower stared back. She’d finished clearing up their display in the exhibit hall early and rushed back to her room, giddy with fantasies of the night ahead of her. She’d tried to take her time in the shower so she wouldn’t have to wait long. Her clock told her she still had more than an hour until Jared would be there, though.

Blow-drying her hair only took up fifteen minutes. She stared at her luggage. Now, what to wear? After examining and discarding every piece of clothing she’d packed, she sank onto the bed. Maybe she should have thought of that earlier. Stopped by one of the casino shops and picked up something sexy. She absentmindedly twirled the belt of her robe around her finger, sliding the red satin back and forth.

She looked down at the kimono-style robe. Then stood and spun, examining herself from every angle in the mirror above the desk. The thought of opening the door for him dressed in nothing but the robe sent a rush of excitement through her. She needed to calm down a little. He’d mentioned dinner and conversation. And as much as she loved the memories of what he could do to her body, she was looking forward to some more in-depth getting to know each other as well.

Her imagination wanted something else. She perched on the edge of her bed, legs crossed.

The minutes passed, and the clock rolled past seven. Something twinged inside as the time hit five minutes late, and then ten. He was just tied up, right? She knew how busy he was. Something had snagged his attention. He couldn’t let her know because he was on the phone or in a meeting.

And didn’t have her number. The thought rolled through her head, taunting her. But trailing behind came another, much better one. She did have his. She’d snagged business cards from pretty much every booth at the show, and his was in the stack.

Seconds later, she dug his card out and had his number in her phone. Her thumbs hesitated above the screen.