CHAPTER 2
Ryker “Digger” McMillan strolled down the hallway of Starpower Incorporated on his way back to his office from lunch. Murmuring an occasional hello to his co-workers, he stopped at the media center to gather the physical printouts for one of their clients. Tucking the stack into an envelope, he sealed it then checked the time. He had a briefing with Robertson’s team at three, and he wanted to make sure all his ducks were in a row. Digger’s team was made up of some of the world’s best information technicians, and he trusted them completely. However, he always wanted to put his stamp of approval on anything that left their little corner of the world.
“Digger!”
He whirled around at the sound of his nickname. Speaking of one of his top-notch information technicians, Wendy Schuler hurried to catch up with him. At five foot two, she barely came to his collarbone. A mousy little woman with dark skin, brown eyes hidden behind thick, large-lensed glasses, he noticed she was still on her neon pink kick. The ends of her blonde, curly hair were dyed the same shade as her shirt and skirt, and she had one long streak of the same shade framing her pixie face. The high-top sneakers she wore were black with bright pink laces and soles. Technically speaking, Starpower’s dress code stipulated for all employees to wear dark, business office clothing but they cut his team some slack. Normally, they were hidden on the second floor and rarely interacted with the public. Digger was the exception. As the technology manager, he sometimes had to put in appearances. It sucked, but it was what it was.
“Hey, Wendy. What have you got?”
She thrust a laptop into his hands. “I found something interesting on a client’s system. It looks like a tracker, but I can’t get rid of it. Could you take a look at it? Otherwise, I’ll have to do a system wipe, and that’s going to piss off the client.”
He chuckled and slapped the file folder on top. “Yeah, I’ll take a look at it. What else are you working on?”
“I’m helping Juju with net scrub for that television evangelist’s daughter.”
“Oh, yeah. How goes the social media sweeps?”
Wendy frowned. “I swear, if I have to look at one more stinking picture of her poochie, I’m going to hurl. How can one woman take 250 pictures of a Shih-Tzu in one day? Why would anyone need that many pictures of a pampered dog, anyway?”
Honestly, Digger had no idea. There were so many things about the elite and self-centered of Hollywood he didn’t comprehend. He shrugged. It wasn’t his job to understand. They were to take care of their clients and not judge. “I’ve given up trying to figure these people out. It’s less insane that way.”
She snorted. “You’ve got that right. Alright, I guess I need to get back to Punkie’s day. If you don’t hear from me by five, send in the cavalry.”
“Will do.” Digger adjusted the envelope on top of the laptop and tucked both against his hip. Turning, he continued down the hall to his office. Turning the corner next to the conference room, he noticed Kathleen talking to one of the specialty teams employed by the firm. Their job was to provide personalized services for Starpower, Inc.’s exclusive clientele. Sometimes that meant physical bodyguards and entourage support. Other times, it could be publicity and angle spin services. Digger’s team worked almost exclusively in the latter. Many times, the rich and pampered made insensitive or downright stupid comments that had to be rectified and cleaned. Kathleen was flinging her hands around as she spoke. He chuckled. More business meant a steady paycheck. God bless the rich and oblivious.
The door to the ladies restroom flew open, and something smacked him in the middle of the chest. The slight body startled him, and he instinctually reached out to catch the woman when she bounced backward. The file flew from his hand, and he barely managed to juggle the laptop to keep it from crashing to the floor as well. A grunt followed by an ‘ow’ of surprise came from the young woman who had recoiled off him.
“Oh, excuse me,” she murmured then dropped to her knees. Quickly, she began to snatch up the contents of her purse.
Squatting beside her, Digger placed the laptop next to his foot and helped to gather her things. “I am so sorry, Ma’am,” he said contritely. “I didn’t see you. Are you hurt?”
The blonde didn’t glance up as she chased a lipstick across the hallway. “Just my pride,” she responded in a soft voice. Finally, she raised her face. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Hi. I’m Demma.”
Instinctively, he turned his head to the left causing his chin length dark hair to fall over and cover the scars on the side of his face. He was acutely aware of most people’s reactions to the injuries which had ended his career in the Marines. It seemed the prettier the person; the more his disfigurement offended them and Demma St. John was not just pretty but stunning. “I had heard you were coming in today, Ms. St. John. Nice to meet you. I’m Ryker.” He lifted the badge clipped to his shirt. “Information technology,” he said nonchalantly.
She chuckled softly. “Please call me Demma.” She sat back on her heels and looked around. “I think that was everything.”
“Almost.” He picked up her cell phone from between his feet and held it out. Just as she was about to take it, he pulled back and looked at the screen. “I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, Ms. St. John.” He studied the device and turned it around. “But, if I can offer a couple of suggestions? First thing, you need to lock your phone. Don’t make it easy for someone to grab your information. The second thing is this icon.” He pointed to a small kitten in the bottom left corner. “Kutie Kitties? I know it’s supposed to show you kitten memes and videos, but it can mask a pretty wicked bit of spyware. Under the right situation, a hacker can use a backdoor and get into your phone. From there, he or she can turn on your GPS, your camera and even steal emails, contacts and other vital data. The last thing you need is for someone to use your private facts against you. If you let me have it for about ten minutes, I can secure your device for you.”
Her face went pale, and she slowly nodded. “Yes, please, Ryker. I would appreciate it very much. Thank you. Do whatever you think is necessary to ensure nobody can take my information.”
He picked up the laptop and file. Standing, he reached down and helped the starlet to her feet. “My pleasure, Ma’am. All part of the full service of Starpower, Inc.”
“Ms. St. John? Digger? Is everything alright?” Kathleen appeared at the door of the conference room.
“Ryker was helping me.” She turned to face him. “Weren’t you?”
“Hello, Kathleen. Yes, I was telling Ms. St. John about spyware and unsecured data.” He shook the phone gently. “If you will excuse me, I’ll take care of this and return your device to you in a few minutes.” He lowered his chin to Demma with a mumbled, “Ma’am” before turning on his heel and resuming his trek to his office.
***
Demma followed Kathleen into the conference room. As the door swung shut, she glanced at Ryker’s retreating figure as he swiped his badge at a secure door and entered. She smiled. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn’t fall over themselves, fawning over her. Meeting Ryker might be the best part of this whole horrible mess.
She slid into the plush office chair and pulled the contract toward herself. Her lawyer sat next to her perusing his copy, making notes here and there on the paper.
“Can I get you anything? Perhaps something to drink? We have an excellent red down in the cellar. Chateau Margaux 2009 Balthazar.”
Demma shook her head. “No, thank you. I only drink wine with dinner. I wouldn’t mind a bottle of water, though if that’s ok?”
Kathleen smiled widely. “Yes of course. We have spring and mineral waters from all over the world. Do you have a favorite? If we don’t have it, I can have one of the interns get it for you.”
And this was exactly the type of behavior which irritated Demma so much. Why make such a fuss over a bottle of water? Water was water, and it didn’t matter where it originated. She chuckled to herself at the thought of the horror on Ms. Barosa’s perfect face if she knew how many times as a child; Demma had drunk right out of a water hose in her front yard. Even now, she drank out of the tap at home. The horror! She made a shrug. “Whatever is available. I’m not a connoisseur of water.” Demma wasn’t a connoisseur of anything.
Someone produced a cold bottle and opened it for her. She took a drink and placed it on an ebony wood coaster with the firm’s logo inlaid with silver.
“I’d like to call your attention to section three, paragraph four,” Mr. Staple, her attorney clipped. “Ms. St. John has made it very clear there will be no full disclosure.”
Kathleen sat back in her chair. “It’s a standard clause. We can’t protect you from data leaks if we are not apprised of the nature of the problem. I assure you, none but upper management and the members of your security team will know the nature of your issue.”
Demma shook her head. “No. How many times was sensitive data leaked by the very people charged with keeping it safe? The media is full of stories citing a close friend, relative or employee.” She slashed her hand through the air. “No disclosure.”
“Ms. St. John, please be reasonable...” Kathleen beseeched.
To her left, Mr. Staple sat back and watched. Demma knew he understood her better than most except for Monty. Even though neither knew exactly what her problem was, they understood her need for privacy. She refused to back down. Instead, she stood. “No. If that’s a deal breaker, I understand. Thank you for your time.” She reached down to pick up her purse.
In alarm, Kathleen shot to her feet. “No, of course not. I understand your concern. Rest assured, we have failsafe measures in place to ensure there are no data leaks. You met Ryker McMillan. He is the information technology manager for our firm and vets his staff carefully. He’s former military and worked with classified data. His standards are impeccable. Any information you have will be safe in his hands.”
Demma thought about those hands and how strong they felt wrapped around her elbow. She did feel safe with him. Even though she had only just met Ryker, she trusted him. The thought shocked her. She didn’t trust many people and none with her past. Slowly, she nodded. “Alright, I will disclose my information to Mr. McMillan and nobody else.” She glared at Kathleen. “But I want a signed contract that he will not divulge it to anyone for any reason. I expect him to be the only one to have this material.”
“He and his team, you mean,” Kathleen corrected.
“No, only him and nobody else. If you want my business, those are my terms. I want Mr. McMillan to handle my case personally.”
Kathleen propped one hand on her hip and started to pace. Slowly, she tapped one long manicured nail against her lip. Stopping, she turned and faced her. “Digger, I mean Mr. McMillan, is not a Personal Security Specialist. He doesn’t do field work and prefers to stay in the background. I’m sure you noticed...” she motioned toward her face absently. “It makes him uncomfortable to be in public. Are you sure you want to insist on him alone?”
Demma frowned. She recalled something about one side of his face; something slightly pulled or maybe a scar, but it hadn’t registered to her. Instead of focusing on his physical appearance, her attention had been on the way he had behaved toward her. He was courteous, professional and didn’t fawn over her. He saw a problem with her cell phone and took action to correct it. She liked that. It didn’t matter how he looked. She had no room to talk anyway. Her own scars ran deep. What she needed from this company was the level of professionalism and detail orientation he had shown.
As if summoned by her thoughts, there was a rap on the glass door, and Ryker stuck his head inside. “Excuse me for interrupting. I have Ms. St. John’s cell phone.”
“Come in Digger. Perfect timing, in fact. Have a seat,” Kathleen motioned toward the only empty seat to Demma’s right.
He hesitated a moment but took it and slid her cell across to her. “I removed the app with the spyware, found two other security breaches and closed them. I also tweaked your settings for more security.” He pushed a few buttons on the screen and motioned toward her. “If you will press your thumb on the button, it will register it as a password. I suggest using that as a lock as it will make breaking into your device extremely difficult.”
Demma did as he asked and he smiled. Taking the cell, she placed it back into her purse and sat back. She glanced over at Kathleen who had been watching the entire scenario with a bemused look on her face. Demma arched an eyebrow and nodded. “I’m positive.”