CHAPTER SEVEN
Friday, September 8th
Lucky walked into SAI and saw Ivy giving her a smile that spelled trouble. The way her eyebrows were wagging could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t anything she wanted a part of. “Morning.”
“My, my is that the Queen of Denial walking through the doors?”
“I’ve had one cup of coffee, so you’re going to need to give me a few more details about what you’re jabbering about.”
Jason walked down the hall and stood next to Ivy. “What are we talking about?”
“Lucky and the fed,” Ivy said as she leaned against Jason and laughed. “Our sweet girl has been swept off her feet by the very handsome and charming Sam Barton Special Agent and he just dropped her off at work.”
“Took him long enough; he’s had a thing for her since last spring.”
“No sweeping has occurred. He gave me a ride to work this morning because my car is still in the shop. Nothing romantic about it.”
Ivy crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Well, that just spoils all my fun.” Twirling her finger, she gave Lucky an assessing gaze. “Maybe I should get involved and see if we can move this love boat out of the harbor.”
Ryan walked down the central staircase shaking his head. “Ivy, you leave them alone. None of your meddling is going to help the situation.”
Looking up, Ivy threw her husband a smirk. “You don’t know anything about how well my meddling works or doesn’t work, so zip it.”
Ryan walked over to his wife and took both of her hands. “Have you already forgotten about Fiona and Dennis?”
“You hush, Ryan.”
Jason rocked back on his heels and grinned. “This, I gotta hear.”
“No, no, you don’t.” Slipping out of Ryan’s grasp, she turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen. “If you say anything about it, Ryan, you know what the consequences will be.”
Lucky looked at Ryan and shook her head. “If I were you, I’d heed her warnings because she seems like a woman who believes in holding a grudge.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Ryan replied as he stared down the hall.
“That was damn unsatisfying,” Jason remarked as he turned toward the ready-room. “Come on, Ryan, let’s go check the equipment we're using tonight.”
“Roger that.”
Heading toward the stairs, Lucky breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to be talking about was her and Sam. The evening they’d spent together had her all kinds of confused, and she didn’t have the time or inclination to sort out what it all meant, and there was no way she was going to have any in the near future.
Her plate was full not only with her regular workload, but her client’s hack, as well as the changes Rory and Max wanted to make. Not anywhere in there was there a bit of room for Sam Barton or, more importantly, the leads she wanted to pursue on Vazov.
Once she hit the top of the stairs, she trudged down the hall and put her hand on the pad that would unlock her sanctuary. Once the door slid open, she walked inside and heard the hum of the processors and felt a calm wash over her body. The large room was where she felt most at home, not only because it had been designed to her specifications but because it’s where she understood how things worked, and that wasn’t always true of the outside world.
Dumping her purse on the desk, she then sat down and took a moment to clear her mind. When she felt like she had gathered her wits, she opened her eyes and decided to check the status of the code she and Grif had written yesterday for the client. It was meant to close the backdoor the breach had created while not alerting the people who initiated it. And, so far, that was the most important goal because they hadn’t yet discovered what the true goal of the intrusion was, and until they did, all they were doing was rearranging chairs on the Titanic.
By now, the attacker had to know he or she had failed to steal the company’s data, and while there could be various reasons for it, she didn’t want them to think it was because she’d discovered him. The ransomware wasn’t complex, and that let her know they were probably dealing with two different attacks.
Hearing footsteps, she looked up and saw Grif walk in. “Hey.”
“Are you thinking about the hack or something else?”
“The hack. It doesn’t add up, and my gut is telling me the company’s network might already be secretly owned by someone we’ve yet to identify.”
“Yeah, my gut is sending the same message. That cheap-ass ransomware is like a red flashing light that doesn’t match up with whoever got into the network.”
“Exactly.” Sitting up in her chair, she crossed her legs and grabbed her keyboard. “How’s the autonomous security system you’re designing?”
“It’s going.”
“Are you basing the system on signature-based or anomaly detection?”
“The signature detection system is fine for a small business that doesn’t keep anything of value on its network, but because it relies on the use of a specifically known pattern of unauthorized behavior, it won’t stand up to a major intrusion.”
“I know that, Professor Myer, and appreciate the refresher from Computer Science and Engineering 101.”
“Sorry.” He ran his hand through his hair and shot her a grin. “Anyway, I’m working on an anomaly-based program that detects activities from the baseline. My challenge, though, is figuring out how to keep the normal operation traffic profile clean. I keep mind fucking myself as I create it because I ask myself: if the automation itself is hacked, then is the AS being gamed?”
“It’s a good question,” Lucky replied.
“Exactly,” Grif replied as he sank into a chair. “We live in a hall of mirrors, and that’s why every time I think the program is working, I find something else to add.”
“That’s because you’re the second-best hacker and, given sufficient motivation and time, you can break into almost any secure network without setting off alarms.”
“Baby, there is no second-best only first-best, and that’s me.” He gave her a cocky grin and pointed his finger at her. “Remember when breaking in used to thrill us?”
“We were seventeen and clueless and thought because we found a way in and could roam free we were hot shit. Now that we’re on the side of defense, we have to out-think every aggressor out there.”
“When we find the entry point of this hack, then hopefully we’ll find our answer as to why someone wanted into the network.”
“Botnet,” Lucky said quietly.
“Don’t even joke about that shit.”
Ivy waltzed in and looked at them. “Joke about what?”
“Nothing,” Lucky responded. “We’re just throwing around crazy ideas.”
“No one loves a crazy idea more than me, but I can see that neither one of you is ready to spill, so I suppose I’ll just have to wait.”
Lucky stood and walked over to her Microsoft hub table and started typing in commands. “I’m going to look at what intel was developed overnight on the breach.”
“Before you get too deep into it, I came by to see if you’ve thought about what we discussed yesterday.”
“Ivy, I need more than twenty-four hours to come up with a reasonable response. Give me the weekend to get my ideas together and then we can talk on Monday.”
“Fair enough.” Before she stepped out of the office, she looked at Grif and narrowed her eyes. “We’re going to get you to join the team—one way or another.” She gave them both a smile and then walked out.
“Why do I feel as though my destiny has just been delivered?”
Lucky shrugged. “Ivy has that effect on people when she gets her mind set on something.”
“And she seems so sweet when you meet her,” he replied as he leaned back in his chair.
“Which just covers up her true nature. I’ve found it best to think of Ivy as that girl you knew in college who said, ‘Lead me not into temptation,’ and then threw out a scary laugh and told you to follow her because she knew a shortcut.”
Letting out a snort, Grif almost fell out of his chair. “That’s a perfect description.”
“I know, and that’s why I love her.” Turning back to her surface hub, she sent a command to have the data summary sent to her laptop, and as she waited, she thought about Sam Barton and his abrupt change in behavior. Not being able to identify what had caused it made her deeply uncomfortable because there was cause and effect in everything. And with Sam, she couldn’t see what either of those elements were.
Did he need something from her?
Perhaps.
But that didn’t explain the physical affection. From the moment he’d offered her a ride home, he’d been touching her in some form or fashion. Light, inconsequential gestures, but affectionate nonetheless.
Maybe he…and then no answer came because it felt like all the times she and Stazi had tried to explain the unexplainable when it came to the men in their lives. Not that Sam was in her life in that way. Hell to the no.
And then she felt the mental exhaustion that so often accompanied her thoughts when she was trying to figure why a guy was doing what he was.
Well, no more.
She was going to wait for someone like Hank to come along before she wasted one more precious moment trying to figure out the puzzle. And when she said, “like Hank,” what she meant was a man who saw what he wanted, went after it with everything he had, and didn’t believe in gamesmanship. Straight up liked her, wanted her, and did something about it.
End of story.
It didn’t have to be complicated unless you allowed it to be, and it didn’t have to be painful unless you let it. Life was hard and challenging, beautiful and complicated, and considering the business she was in, she wanted light and beautiful when it came to romance.
Her Nona had always told her she should look for a person who would allow her days to be filled with happiness and her nights with lust. And if that wasn’t available, then she should keep moving until she found it. Love, she’d said, wasn’t supposed to be hard or make you feel bad; it should fill your soul so that when the hard things come along in life, you’d have someone to navigate it with, and that’s exactly what she was going to wait for.
Nothing less.
Hearing the intercom buzz, she heard her name. “What’s up Kaye?”
“You have a delivery and it’s waiting in the kitchen.”
“Thanks.” Wondering what it could be, she checked on Grif and saw that he was in the zone and decided not to disturb him. She walked out of her office, and made it downstairs and into the kitchen in record time. There on the counter was a bag from her favorite deli along with a beautiful small bouquet of wildflowers in an emerald green vase.
Approaching slowly, she looked around and wondered if she was being punked. When she saw the room was empty, she picked up the card that was attached to the flowers and opened it. Seeing Sam’s scrawling handwriting, she sucked in a breath as she read it. Dear Luciana, Thought you might need something to brighten your day, so I hope these will do and since you don’t have your car yet, I decided to make sure you had something for lunch. Enjoy and call me if you need a ride home tonight. Ti bacia la mia cara, Sam.
“Oh, sweet Lord have mercy,” she mumbled.
“What are you asking the Lord for?” Ivy asked as she walked in.
Twirling around, Lucky stood in front of the flowers. “Nothing.”
“When a woman say’s nothing, it hardly ever is.” Walking toward her, she peeked around and gasped. “Sam Barton isn’t playing.” Sliding her hands on her hips, she grinned. “He’s getting out of his own damn way and comin’ for you.”
“It’s nothing,” Lucky croaked.
“Oh, Honey, what’s going on there is a whole lot of something, and you need to get your mind right so you can deal with it. One way or another.”
“I need to call Stazi.”
“You better and then tell her we’re going out tonight to discuss this ‘situation’ and come up with a plan.”
Snapping her fingers, she then pointed at Ivy. “That’s exactly what we need. Your men are going to be busy, so we need a girl’s night out.”
“Absolutely,” Ivy agreed loudly.
“Absolutely what?” Ryan asked as he walked in.
“The women are going out and we’re not sure when we’re gettin’ home.”
“That’s fine, you all go on and have a good time; I’ll just let Brandon know so he can tag along and get you all home safely.”
“We don’t want any men coming out on our girl’s night. That’s why they call it a girl’s night,” Lucky replied firmly.
“You can have Brandon or you can have Sam; take your pick.”
“Brandon’s fine,” Lucky replied quickly.
“That’s what I thought,” Ryan said with a grin.
“Don’t be smug, Honey, ‘cause it doesn’t make you cuter,” Ivy replied as she filled her coffee mug.
“You thought I was plenty cute this morning.”
Ivy gave her husband a pitying glance. “And if you ever hope for that to happen again, you will close that mouth of yours and behave.”
“And on that note, I’m getting the hell out of here, so I don’t get my wife riled up.” Turning, he stalked out of the kitchen.
“Smart man,” Ivy commented as she added cream to her coffee.
“How long did it take you two to…”
“Get along?” Ivy finished.
“Yes.”
“Not long. We fussed at one another for a while until I figured out that he had my best interest at heart and he figured out that he couldn’t boss me. But really, it wasn’t that hard, which is why I fell for him as I did. My mama and daddy fought most days until they finally divorced, and I knew that wasn’t anything I was interested in.” Holding up her hand, she shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, Ryan and I have plenty of differences, but at the end of the day he wants me to be happy and I want the same for him. So, any little bickering we do doesn’t mean much at the end of the day.”
“Thank you, Ivy.”
“For what?”
“Confirming that what I’ve thought all along is right on.” Picking up the flowers and the lunch bag, she turned toward the door. “I’ll call Stazi and make a plan for tonight.”
“Don’t forget to call Sam too and let him know how much you like what he sent,” Ivy called out.
Walking toward the staircase, she ignored the comment and reaffirmed her earlier position on men and romance. No matter what Sam was doing to get her attention.