Chapter Ten

Waverly

Unbelievable.

Seriously. Un-fucking-believable.

When that envelope showed up at my door a few hours ago, I knew I should have declined the invitation. An award ceremony for the best casino security in Vegas? Since when is that a thing? And who would send a notification at the last minute saying I’d won? The whole thing had seemed weird and suspicious to me.

But...

But I figured it would be an important feather in Haven Security’s cap, being able to boast that we had an award from the Las Vegas Chamber of Commerce, using it on all our marketing materials.

I also thought it would be a chance to meet the owners of some of the city’s biggest casinos so I could get them interested in doing business with my company.

Since I was bored, going square-eyed from staring at the screen too long, and the prospect of attending some fancy party with free food and liquor would be a fun way to kill an evening.

But I figured I’d come back with some funny stories to tell Neon over burgers and code.

But – oh, and this is the worst one, the one I’m really hating myself for right now – after tormenting Hawk during our meeting, I figured this could be one more thing to lord over him.

Ha ha, I got the award for best casino security in Vegas, so who’s a ‘computer god’ now, huh? Who’s hacking fucking Xboxes now, you smug, self-obsessed asswipe?

And now here I stand on a stage next to him, utterly blindsided and feeling like the dumbest fuck on the planet. I swear to God, if the earth could just open up and swallow me whole right now, I’d be fine with that. I’d be grateful.

But it doesn’t. Instead, a few cameras click and flash in the front row, capturing the moment of Nixon Caldwell standing between us and holding up the award. A quick glance at the award itself confirms that it was a rush job too – just a chunk of clear plexiglass with both of our names engraved at the base.

From the look on Hawk’s face, he doesn’t seem happy about this freak show, either. Oh well. At least he doesn’t know I’m “Ostrich.” That would be too humiliating for words.

“Congratulations to both of you,” Nixon says, his irritatingly-perfect smile still in place.

“Thanks,” I mutter. “Do I get to make a speech?” I happen to have a two-word acceptance speech in mind. The second word is “you,” and the first one definitely isn’t “thank.”

“I’ve got a few choice words too, actually,” Hawk growls.

“No speeches,” Nixon says. “Just smile for the cameras for a few more seconds, and then both of you can yell and swear at me in private. You tech gurus are very uptight. You need to learn how to unwind.”

Once the cameras stop snapping, Nixon leads us to his office upstairs. Hawk and I fume silently, and the air around us feels like it’s full of storm clouds just waiting to unleash their lightning bolts on the unsuspecting ground.

“I know you’re both quite unhappy,” Nixon intones as he closes the office door behind us. “But before you start shouting, I hope you’ll at least take a moment to really appreciate how much effort went into getting both of you in the same room.”

“And now that you have, so what?” Hawk lashes out. “You make up some phony award and insist I show up for it, just so you can insult me in public? What’s so damn important about this little girl that you’d waste my time like this? Time I should be spending working on rebuilding the security program, by the way.”

Rage surges up inside me like an erupting volcano, and I turn to him, snarling. “Okay, first of all, dickhead, I’m not a ‘girl,’ I’m twenty-six. That’s only four years younger than you, in case your math skills are as shitty as your attitude. Second, if anyone should be insulted by us having to share a stage, it’s me. I had to drop the important work I was doing and come down here just so you can have your massive ego publicly stroked for the umpteen-billionth time, for...what? Maybe being the best programmer, what, almost a decade ago? You’re a fucking has-been, and I’m sick of seeing people line up to jerk you off for so-called ‘innovations’ that are mostly rehashes of halfway-decent ideas you probably stole from better coders.”

Nixon raises his hand into the electric air crackling between us. “Okay, okay. So, I’ve insulted both of you. I’ve lied to you, and I’ve wasted your time. I suggest you ask yourselves why I would do that?” He points to Hawk. “You’ve gotten to know me pretty damn well over the years. Does this strike you as the kind of thing I’d do lightly? And by the way, you can talk all you want about how I’ve dragged you away from your important work on the security program, but we both know that’s crap. One look in your eyes during our last meeting and I knew you hadn’t made any progress on it. That’s fine...I’m not angry with you, but I am concerned.”

He turns to look at me next. “You might not know me personally, but I’m betting you probably know me by reputation, given my not-inconsiderable influence in this town. Based on what you’ve heard about me, do I seem like some kind of eccentric billionaire who would set something like this up just for his own amusement? And by the way, you can pretend you’re not impressed by Hawk, but based on your level of skill with regard to coding, you’re too smart to actually believe he’s unoriginal or irrelevant.”

“Her ‘level of skill?’” Hawk sneers, looking me over. “Your name’s, what...Waverider, Wavelength, some stupid hippie nonsense born of being one toke over the line? How good could you be if I’ve never even heard of you?”

“Oh, but you have,” Nixon replies evenly. “Her name is Waverly Emerson, but you know her as the enigmatic ‘Ostrich.’”

Holy. Shit. Well, so much for being able to hide behind that.

Hawk’s jaw drops, and his eyes bulge so wide that for a moment, I honestly think they’re going to pop out of his head and roll around on Nixon’s desk like marbles.

“You?! You’re the one who was hiding behind all that ‘Oz the Great and Powerful’ James Bond crap? Coward! All this time, the famous Ostrich was just some–”

“Call me a ‘girl’ again, motherfucker!” I challenge him. “Go on, I dare you! I fucking double-dog-dare you! Call me a ‘girl’ one more time, and I swear I’ll grab that letter opener off the desk and turn you into one!”

“No castrations in my office, please,” Nixon says in a frustrated voice so low I have to strain to hear him. “I doubt I have the insurance for that. Besides, I’ve never been fond of blood. It ruins my white carpet. Now, let’s get back to the business at hand. I went through a lot of trouble to bring you two together. Hawk and I have a fairly serious problem, and Waverly, it seems as though you represent the only viable solution.”

“How the hell did you know it was me?” I ask, barely refraining from stomping my foot. “I mean, how did you know I was Ostrich?”

“You two aren’t the only hackers I happen to know,” Nixon answers. “I paid a rather large sum for one of them to trace your online posts back to your true identity. I’m sure that eventually, Hawk would have thought to do something similar...he’s just been a bit distracted lately.” Nixon gave Hawk a mysteriously knowing look, as though they shared a secret.

“Well, anyway, I already know all about your little ‘problem,’ and like I told Hawk, I’m not interested,” I tell him. “As far as I’m concerned, Hawk’s security program can crash and burn, with him strapped to it. And when I develop my own casino security solution – and I will – you can line up to buy it with everyone else. As you proved today, you’ve got the cash for it.”

“There, you see?” Hawk gestures to me. “I mean, listen to her, for Christ’s sake! Clearly, I can’t work with her. Who could?”

“You can work with her because you have to,” Nixon insists. “There’s simply no other choice. I’ve got too much of my own money invested in this to just walk away, to say nothing of the money I’m projected to save once it’s implemented. And as I told you, I will drag this casino back into the black, no matter what it takes. I simply will not allow even one weak point of entry that Dante Giovanetti can exploit. And if we finally happen to spear that greaseball in the same net, I’m sure you wouldn’t be crying about that, Hawk. No, the real question is whether she can work with you. And she’s right – she has no incentive to do so whatsoever, especially with you standing there and belittling her. Which is why I knew that if I could somehow connect you two, I’d have to make my offer to her irresistible. Your nuts are already in a sling as far as I’m concerned.”

“I don’t need money,” I snap without thought. “So, if untold riches are your big pitch, sorry you wasted your time, Mr. Caldwell. Goodbye.”

I turn to leave. First that Dante clown, and now this. Jesus, what is with these wealthy, entitled, casino-owning assholes? They think they can wave their magic money around and treat the rest of us like their personal chess pieces?

Checkmate.

“I know you don’t need money,” Nixon retorts. “But you know who does? Geeks Vegas. From what I understand, they need all the resources they can get. Imagine what they could do with seven figures.”

I pause, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Okay, so this Nixon Caldwell character clearly likes to play the role of the Shadowy Omniscient Manipulator, that much is obvious. And yeah, fine, he got some hacker to follow my digital trail. Whatever. I hadn’t really guarded my Ostrich persona all that well to begin with. Because it was clearly only birthed to fuck with him.

But Geeks Vegas?

How the hell could he know about that?

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Hawk says, his eyes narrowing into slits. “What are you talking about?”

For the first time today, I really look at him. The way his wild hair curls around his shoulders, the broad shoulders leading down to his tapered waist. The way his eyes spark with ideas or anger. Without reason, my body responds, tightening into an inferno of heat. I hate his fucking guts. I hate everything about him.

I do.

“Are you kidding me?” I storm. Anyone who’s anyone in our industry gives of themselves to Geeks Vegas. They’re on the front lines of one of the poorest, most uneducated dangerous places for youth in the US.

He ignores me, and for some reason, that makes me even angrier than his insults. He leans closer to Nixon. “Who is ‘Geeks Vegas?’ Sounds like a nickname for some coder gone awry.”

“Geeks Vegas isn’t a who, it’s a what,” Nixon replies with a smile. “Specifically, it’s a charity organization that supplies computers and software to school districts and low-income families. Then, underprivileged kids who have been through their programs, teach families how to use their new equipment. Some of the best coders and software developers that UNLV has ever seen came from Geeks Vegas.”

“And you’d probably know all about them if you didn’t spend all of your time kissing your own ass,” I shot at Hawk.

“Maybe he would,” Nixon interjects quickly before Hawk can fire back at me. “But what he wouldn’t know is how many hours you’ve spent volunteering your time and services to them. For anyone to know that, they’d have to do some extremely deep digging and learn some of your other aliases. You’ve got quite a collection, by the way. I’m impressed.”

“Okay, even if I were inclined to work with you – which, again, I’m not – I’m getting very weirded out by the level of stalking it would take for you to find out all this stuff about me.”

My skin crawls at the hands of Nixon Caldwell, and I feel violated. I like to keep my distance from people and keep my secrets to myself. Even Neon doesn’t know I volunteer for Geeks Vegas. And if he knew how much money I gave them, well...he’d shit a brick. Most of the private funding they receive for computers is from my foundation. If I wanted a bunch of curious people I barely know and don’t even like crawling up my ass with a microscope, I’d work in an office.

“Not stalking, just a precaution,” Nixon insists. “I would think it goes without saying that before offering to work with anyone on security for my casino, I’d conduct a thorough background check. Geeks Vegas is a fine organization, but they’re still underfunded, understaffed, and unable to reach one-tenth of the people they need to. On average, they net a few hundred thousand dollars in donations each year, leaving volunteers like you to scrape and scrounge for viable parts to build computers. But what if they were suddenly given, say, one million dollars? Can you imagine all the good they could do with that money?”

I feel my eyebrows jump up before I can conceal my surprise. The offer entices me more than I care to admit, especially, to an arrogant ass like him. The children who need those computers – the ones from broken homes and shitty neighborhoods, the ones who really need access to the outside world via the internet, if only so they could have a hope in hell of creating better lives for themselves – have been making due with the hastily-assembled Frankenstein machines and bug-infested secondhand software Geeks Vegas could afford to give them. But with a million dollars, they could actually change people’s lives for the better. More people than I can do by myself.

“And that’s your offer?” I back up a few steps. It feels like if I can just put some space between me and Hawk, I’ll be able to breathe again without the air getting trapped in my throat. “I help Hawk rebuild the security program, and in return, you donate a million dollars to Geeks Vegas? I have to say, that sounds like you’re doing yourself a favor, given the good publicity a donation like that would bring you. Not to mention the tax benefits.”

Nixon spreads his arms expansively. “I already make plenty of charitable donations to the tune of a tenth of my revenue. Las Vegas Magazine already lauds my family’s name. To me, this would just be one more. But to you...it’s personal.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. But you know that wouldn’t be enough either, right? I’d also want–”

“You’d want to share credit for it, plus a percentage of the profits,” Nixon finishes for me. “Naturally. Those demands are perfectly reasonable, and I’ll make sure they’re included in the contracts my attorneys will draw up. You do have your own business to think about, after all.”

I can’t believe I’m seriously considering this.

But you are.

For the donation to Geeks Vegas, and the hope that will buy for kids and families who rely on those computer screens as windows into a larger world. Even with my personal donations, we struggle to outfit all the needy families with hardware and software. I also seriously consider the benefits to Haven Security when I can claim even partial credit for developing a revolutionary new security program.

And my dad will be so proud of me.

For the money, maybe only a little. I don’t need it, but it’s nice to know I’m worth it, and that every dollar is one more tiny confirmation of my worth as a developer. And with my good investments over the years, I can do that much more for kids in need.

And... well, maybe – if I’m being totally honest with myself – maybe also for the chance to show Hawk what I’m actually capable of doing. To finally pay him back for that day years ago by taking him down a peg or two. Or five.

Or to infinity and beyond.

If Hawk lives long enough.

His chiseled face turns crimson with rage, and I can practically take his pulse just from looking at the side of his neck. It’s a beautiful sight, even more satisfying than our interlude a few days ago. I take a mental snapshot, hoping to preserve the image for future times when I’m feeling down and need a little ego boost.

“Okay, I’m in,” I say, trying to sound casual.

Nixon nods. “A very sensible decision. I’ll contact my brother, and Reagan will have the contract for you to sign first thing tomorrow.”

“Excuse me, but what the actual fuck?” Hawk’s voice rises in pitch until he sounds like a little girl singing a show tune or a man about to have his balls cut off, and I try to hide a smile. “I haven’t agreed to work with her. I haven’t agreed to any of this!”

“That’s fine,” Nixon says in an easy, friendly tone. “You’re perfectly within your rights to refuse this offer. And, as the sole investor in your security project who’s patiently waited the full amount of development time outlined in our original contract, I’m perfectly within my rights to demand that you either produce the finished result now or refund the investment capital I’ve given you.”

I actually suppress laughter until my eyes water. The helpless, bewildered look in Hawk’s eyes reminds me of a rabbit in the split-second before a car reduces it to roadkill.

“That’s...you can’t...” Hawk stammers. “There was a fire! You said yourself, it wasn’t my fault! We’re friends for fuck’s sake!”

“Hmm, that I did,” Nixon says. “And we are friends. But this is business. My lawyers run this show, especially Reagan. He says you can legally be held accountable for not taking steps to prevent this – backing up your work off-site, for example. But hey, we go way back, and I’m a reasonable guy. You don’t have to hand it over right now. I’ll give you an extra...” Nixon glances at his watch. “...hour to finish it. Oh, heck, we’re friends, right? Make it an hour and a half.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Hawk answers through clenched teeth. “I couldn’t rewrite all that code in a week and a half.”

“Oh, no. That’s a shame. It looks as though you owe me a somewhat gargantuan sum, then. Do you happen to have your checkbook on you, or shall I notify Reagan, so he can start preparing a lawsuit?”

“You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t sic that Brooks Brothers wearing pitbull on me in my darkest hour? Your brother has no mercy.”

Hawk looks like a kid who’s about to watch his puppy get shot. I almost feel sorry for him. But only for a second.

“I’m afraid I would.” Nixon walks behind his desk and sits down in his chrome office chair so he looks like a king on his throne. “I like you, Hawk, but I love my casino, and I’ll keep it away from Dante by any means necessary. So, make your decision, but please, do it quickly. Patience has never been my virtue.”

After a long, venomous pause, Hawk murmurs, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Splendid.” Nixon claps his hands and rubs them together. “I knew everyone would see reason. Now, I imagine tempers between you are flaring a bit right now. Ordinarily, I’d just step back and trust both of you to work all that out in your own time, but unfortunately, we’re in a bit of a hurry. So instead, I’ve reserved a table for the two of you at Best of Both Worlds tonight. Your dinner will be on me, of course. Have some drinks. Tell some jokes. Swap some stories. Do whatever you have to in order to work together, because starting tomorrow, that’s precisely what you’ll be expected to do. And let’s make something crystal clear. If either of you privately tries to come to me and complain about your working relationship, I will not be happy. I’m your investor, not your kindergarten teacher. Is that understood?”

We both nod. Nixon smiles, flashing a sliver of white teeth.

“‘Blessed is the peacemaker,’” he recites, “‘for truly, he shall be called a child of God.’ It’s a new role for me, and I’m kind of digging it. Now go. Oh, and please...give my best to Dixie. Have her prepare a tableside Caesar for you, Waverly. You’ll love it.”