Chapter 5

Inside the car, I gave Jake a murderous glare. "Let me get this straight. You barge into my place—"

"Technically," he said, "I was invited."

"Not by me," I told him. "And what about Maddie? She really liked you, you know."

Jake's jaw tightened. "Did it sound like she was complaining?"

Did he mean last night? God, what a bastard. I stared over at him. "In case you forgot, she did complain," I said. "Remember? On the way out?"

Jake gave something like a shrug. "Eh, I’m used to that."

I made a sound of disgust. "So what'd you do this morning? Did you wake up and say to yourself, 'Hey, I think I'll ruin someone's life today.'"

"Whose life are we talking about?" he asked.

As if he didn't know. "Mine," I said. "Obviously." True, Maddie wasn't happy right now either, but at least she still had a job and a place to live.

"I had to get you out of there," he said.

"Is that so," I said. "Why?"

"You know why."

"Actually, I don't." Aside from that strange text on his phone, he'd offered up no good reason for what he'd done this morning. "You're the one who has some explaining to do." I turned toward the guy in the back. "Don't you think?"

"Me?" Trey said, glancing toward Jake. "I think whatever he thinks."

God, what a butt-kisser. Maybe Jake was his employer.

"Trey," Jake said. "Headphones."

Without missing a beat, Trey reached into that same black satchel. He pulled out a thick set of headphones and slipped them on over his ears. From somewhere on the floor, he pulled out a sleek-looking notebook computer and opened it up onto his lap. He looked down at the screen and started tapping away.

I turned toward Jake. I mimicked him talking to his so-called assistant. "Trey. Headphones," I barked in an overly deep voice. Then, in my normal voice, I said, "You know, that was really rude, don't you?"

"To who?"

"Trey. Obviously."

"He doesn't mind," Jake said.

"How do you know?"

"Because it's in job description."

"Seriously?" I glanced toward the back seat. "Uh, Trey?" I said.

He ignored me.

"Don't worry," Jake said. "I’m paying him plenty. So go on. Spill it."

This was beyond strange. Jake had come from a poor family, and that was putting it mildly. I glanced around, taking in the exotic car, the designer clothes, and the professional butt-kisser in the back seat. Since when did Jake Bishop have employees? As far as I knew, he'd never even been an employee, much less an employer.

Stalling, I snuck another glance at Trey before returning my attention to Jake. I lowered my voice. "Exactly how much are you paying him?" I asked.

"If you want, you can ask him," Jake said. "Otherwise, none of your business."

"Oh, so now you're being rude to me?" My gaze narrowed. "In case you forgot, I don't work for you. Remember?"

"So?"

"So as far as taking your crap?" I said. "It's not in my job description. Alright?"

Thinking of job-descriptions, I wanted to groan. Until this morning, I did have a job. Maybe there'd been a description. Who knows? It's not like I'd asked for one. At least I still had the bartending gig, but that was part-time, nights only. The other job – the one I'd just lost – was full-time.

Sure, the hours could be brutal, and I had to work a few Saturdays, like today for instance. But in sixty days, I might've even gained health insurance. No way I'd be giving up that job without a fight. I reached for my phone and started scrolling through my contacts.

"Calling someone?" Jake asked.

"Yeah. My employer."

"You don't have an employer," he said. "Remember?"

I found the contact and pressed the button. "Shh!"

He gave a slow shake of his head. "Not a good idea."

"Be quiet," I hissed, listening as the phone began to ring on the other end. I glanced out the window, watching as we passed an ornate bank building with marble columns and big double doors. Things were getting nicer with every mile we traveled away from Maddie's. No surprise there.

Finally, Vonnie answered with a curt, "Hello."

"Hey, Vonnie," I said. "It's me. Anna."

She made no response. My hands grew clammy as the silence stretched out. Next to me, Jake gave a low chuckle and said under his breath, "Anna. Right."

I gave him a dirty look. I'd been going by the name Anna for a few weeks now. So far, I liked it. It was a ton better than my given name, anyway. I turned away from him, huddling against the passenger side door as I spoke into the phone. "About that email," I said.

Her voice was clipped. "What about it?"

"Well, the thing is," I said, "it wasn't real."

She said nothing. I waited until the silence became awkward.

"Vonnie?" I said. "Are you there?"

Her voice was cold. "Uh-huh."

"See, my email was hacked and—"

"Uh-huh."

"And anyway," I continued in a rush. "I didn't really quit."

On the other end, I heard a hard, scoffing sound. "And I suppose you didn't really call me a whacked-out control freak?"

"Whacked out?" I swallowed. "Control freak?" I whirled toward Jake and gave him a what-the-hell look. Obviously, he hadn't shown me all of that email exchange.

He gave me a half shrug and kept on driving.

Desperately, I spoke into the phone. "That wasn't me," I said.

"I don't care if it's out of character—"

"No," I said. "I mean it literally wasn't me."

"Right," she said. "A hacker? That's your story?"

"It's not a story," I said. "It's the truth."

"Uh-huh. So who was this 'hacker' of yours?"

I opened my mouth and hesitated. Would it be better if Vonnie thought I was hacked by a stranger? Or someone I knew? Screw it. I took a deep breath and went with the truth. "It was this guy I used to know." I glared over at him. "And I'm pretty sure he's flat-out crazy."

"Right," she said.

"Honest."

"So what is it?" she said. "You want your job back?" She gave a humorous laugh. "What happened? Your other job fell through?"

"Other job? What other job?" I didn't recall seeing anything in that email about another job. "There is no other job," I told her. At least, there was no other daytime job. The bartending gig was nights, so that didn't count, right?

"Uh-huh."

"You've got to believe me," I said. "I don't even know why the guy did it." I turned to give Jake another long, murderous look. Into the phone, I spoke through clenched teeth. "But trust me, he's gonna be really, really sorry when I get ahold of him."

"You know who's sorry?" Vonnie said. "Me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said, "I took a chance on you. I had a stack of resumes a mile high. But I chose you." She made a sound of disgust. "And you didn't even last a month."

"I did too," I said.

"And then," she continued as if I hadn't spoken, "you wait 'til our biggest event of the year, and you quit. By email. With no notice." Her voice rose. "And you insult me in the bargain."

"But I didn't insult you. It wasn't me." My palms were sweaty. "And I didn't quit."

"Yeah?" she said. "Then why aren't you here?"

I glanced around the car. "Uh, that's a really good question…"

"In case you forgot," she said, "we start at eight."

"Well," I stammered. "There was this thing at my apartment." I sucked in a breath. "Never mind. That's not your problem. I get it. Just give me a half-hour. I'll be there. Alright?"

"You know what?" she said. "I don’t have time for this. I've got a replacement to train."

I closed my eyes. "You replaced me?" I swallowed. "Already?"

"Sheldon had a friend."

Damn it. I opened my eyes, and said, "Vonnie, please."

"And just between us," she said, "I wouldn’t be using me as a reference if I were you." And with that, she hung up.

I whirled to Jake. "You jerk!" I said.

He gave me that same old cocky grin. "Told you it was a bad idea."

I wanted to throttle him. "Why the hell would you do this to me?"

"For one thing," he said, "that job sucked."

"It did not," I told him.

He turned to give me a no bullshit look. "So you wanted to work as a hotel clerk?"

"I wasn't just a clerk," she said. "It was a foot in the door, you know?" My degree was in hospitality management. When not manning the front desk, I was part of their event-planning team. If all went well, I wouldn't have been manning that front desk forever.

"And they paid you dick," Jake said.

I glared at him. "How would you know?"

"Not hard to figure out."

I gave him a dirty look. "You owe me a job," I said.

"So I'll get you one," he said.

"Yeah, right."

"First things first," he said. "About that text—"

I buried my face in my hands. In my concern for everything I'd just lost – my apartment, my job, my sanity – I'd almost forgotten about that stupid text. Besides, it still didn't make any sense.

Jake made a show of glancing toward the back seat. "The longer you stall," he said, "the longer Trey wears those things."

"Like you care."

"You're right," he said. "I don't." He gave me a look. "But I figured you might."

I peeked around my seat. In the back seat, Trey was tapping away on the computer keys. Working? Or playing? He didn't look too miserable. Then again, he was being paid. Supposedly.

I looked toward Jake and held out my hand. "First," I said. "Let me see your phone."

He glanced at my hand. "Why?"

"That text you showed me — I want to read it again."

Silently, Jake pulled out his phone and handed it over. It was a similar model to my own, and I slid my finger across the smooth screen. I frowned. "It wants a password," I said.

Jake said nothing.

My fingers waited, still poised at the password prompt. "Well?" I said.

He glanced out his window and said, "Luna."

"Yeah? What?"

Looking oddly uncomfortable, Jake cleared his throat. "That's the password."

I gave him a good, long look. His password was my name? "Really?" I said. "Why?"

"Just read the text," he said.

My mind whirling, I tapped in the password. When the screen came to life, that previous text was still showing. Looking down, I felt my eyebrows furrow.

It still didn't make any sense.