ROMAN
If Raven Crosby hadn’t picked up some hacking tips from QI4, I’d eat my shoe.
She’d left as they were growing. Kept her stock options. That never happens. She was also still friendly with Taylor Harden, the hacker brain behind QI4’s quantum system.
I figured they’d parted on good terms. Maybe with something hanging over Taylor’s head.
My team ended up with a few folders on her. I told myself I was a lawyer. Collecting data on people was what I did for a living.
But this was different.
A week in, I was obsessed with her ebony hair and eyes. Lashes drawn on with black Sharpie. Her voice was hypnotic in meetings, and was only heard after long stretches of listening. The night before, she’d tipped her hand, showing me that she’d peeled the curtain back to get intel on me. I didn’t feel violated as much as vindicated. The attraction was mutual. She wouldn’t have done it for any other reason.
“I’ll be there at eight,” I said to my sister, Teagan. We had a dinner planned half an hour before, but I didn’t want to go. It wasn’t the rain that pounded on the windows. It wasn’t my sister. Teagan was fine, but the office was empty and Raven was right across the hall, working in the glow of a desk lamp.
“You better be,” she said. “I’m starving and I need to get drunk.”
“Get a head start at the bar.”
“I’m not going to sit at the end of the bar by myself with a drink. Do you even know what it’s like out there for a girl?”
I didn’t know firsthand, obviously, but I knew enough from her. Teagan was a career gamer and game designer. One of the best. She had a sweet, harmless face that made her approachable to even the most beta of betas. Regardless, even the betas tried to compete with her once they knew what she did. I was exhausted on her behalf.
Across the hall, Raven stood and clicked off her desk lamp.
“Leaving now,” I said, cutting the call. I grabbed my things and headed out, timing it perfectly so we met in the hall.
“Hi,” I said.
She nodded and gave me a non-committal smile. We spoke often, but never a word that didn’t have to do with the human resources software implementation and how it would protect Neuronet from liability.
“It’s raining,” I said. “You taking the elevator to the parking lot?”
The executive lot was underground, on the other side of campus. If you wanted to get there underground, without crossing the courtyard and getting rained on, you had to take the elevator.
“Yes.” She started down the hall and I followed.
“I’ll walk you.”
She looked me up and down, Sharpie lashes fluttering. “Do you have an umbrella? You’ll need it.”
“Ah.” I patted my pockets like a dumbass who lost his keys, not an umbrella.
“I have an extra right inside my office door.”
“No, I have one.” I stepped backward down the hall. “I’ll just go get it.”
“Great. See you tomorrow!”
She hurried down the hall as if she’d just dodged three painful minutes in my company.
I shook it off. What was the difference? What was I trying to do here? Get my ass fired? Get her fired? There were dozens of women I could take to bed and absolutely no reason to focus on the one who could make my life and my job miserable.
But that body. The way she walked. The swing of her black hair across her back.
A female voice came from behind me. “There are rumors about that one.”
It was Marie Siska. Founding partner at Siska + Welton. She was in her early fifties and had her brown hair up in a tidy twist. She was a former litigator who had argued in front of the Ninth and had a way of knowing the intricacies of every case we handled.
“What kind of rumors?”
“The unsubstantiated kind.”
She invited me into my own office and closed the door behind us. I sat in front of my own desk, in one of the two guest chairs.
Marie’s lavender pants suit was custom made and she never sat down. She put her hands on the back of the second guest chair, pulling herself up a little as if she wanted to look taller.
“Barney and I have made a decision about you.”
I tried to look completely calm, but there was a pretty good chance my face froze over in the attempt.
“Let’s hear it.”
“Alexander Burke and Neuronet are your catch. If you go, he goes with you. That’s a plus in the senior partner column.”
I’d played MMPORGs with Burke way back in the day. All the zombie shooting had paid off. He was also a great guy and a badass gamer.
“But we’re a recent contract,” she continued. “And it’s short term. He can cut us loose any time for another outside contractor or to keep it all in-house. It’s fine. It’s part of the business, but a long-term retainer could be big for us. One third of future billing.”
“And my name would be one third of the ones on the letterhead.”
She did something she never did. She sat down in front of me. “I’ve wanted to be a lawyer ever since I saw a Senate debate on C-SPAN. We’re a small, classy operation with a stellar reputation. Classy and stellar were the goal, but small wasn’t. We should be litigating in front of the Supreme Court, and the reason we’re not is because we have to scratch and claw every quarter. We can’t take the chances we need to. I have ten or fifteen more years of active participation in this business before I can’t keep up, and it’s coming at me fast. We’ve tried to grow and it’s never stuck. This is our chance to turn this firm into what I dreamed about when I was ten. You are our chance.”
“No pressure.”
“None.” She got on her feet, where she was most comfortable. “I need you to find a way to be indispensable. If we want to stay, we have to be of value. If we’re going to be of value, we have to do more than the job. Then we’ll reprint the stationery.”
I stood with her. She was offering me my own heart’s desire on a plate. Her partner was sixty-four. She’d retire way before me. It would be my firm to run if I could just find a way to keep Neuronet.
Keeping clients was about relationships. I was friends with Alexander Burke, but I needed good connections on the ground. Piece of cake.
I’d get close to Raven.
Professionally, of course.