Page 23 of Bad Situation

Me: If you don’t stop with the prophet shit, I’ll be forced to badge my way back into your building. And this time I’m not staying in the hallway.

Jen: How very governmenty of you. I’ve got a meeting with my attorney. Gotta go.

Me: I’ll see you soon.

I toss the phone back to the passenger seat and head out of the parking lot. She’ll learn that when I say something, I mean it.

I plan to see her soon.

Very soon.

*****

Jen

Last year I started investing in companies specializing in liquidizing natural gas. The process removes dust, acid gasses, and heavy hydrocarbons among other things, making it a cleaner fuel for the environment, with the added bonus of easy transportation to remote areas that don’t have access to pipelines. Everyone at MI knows I have a passion for clean energy. I’ve now invested in six of these plants across the country.

Patrick confirmed that the shell corps opened in my name are tied to the same address as one of these natural gas plants. But the kicker is, the shell corps were created using the static IP address on MI’s wide area network.

Someone was physically inside this building when those shell corps were created, which means I’m being targeted by someone within my own fucking company.

“Reset your passwords. I don’t care if you have to use cryptography. Make those PINs long and absurd.”

Patrick has been barking orders for the last fifteen minutes. If I weren’t so unsettled about someone within MI trying to frame me, I’d tell him to settle down. But I’m just as upset as he is, so I let it slide. I’m not taking any chances when someone is trying to frame me—I’ll take every step possible to protect myself.

“You know I memorize everything. I change them quarterly when IT alerts us, but I’ll change them right away,” I assure him.

“No one has them but you. I’ve had IT put an extra layer of protection on all your devices—be prepared for that. Kipp’s assistant told me he’s on his way back from his meetings across town. When he hears this, he’ll be on fire. I’ve talked to the PI, told him what I know, and we’ll let him go from there. Lehmans is getting with the U.S. Attorney and asking for a dismissal based on our evidence. We’ll see what happens.” Patrick is steamrolling ahead and nothing can stop him. Right now, I’m really happy he’s on my side.

When I walked into MI around lunchtime, it was like walking into a modern-day Twilight Zone. I look at everyone differently, wondering if each one is a mole or an enemy or a traitor, asking myself what they might have against me—besides the obvious. I did my best to avoid everyone, met with Callie briefly to confirm my schedule for the rest of the day, and came straight to Patrick.

I lean back in my chair where I’m sitting across from him. “I still can’t believe it’s someone from within.”

He tosses his pen to his desk and shakes his head. “I talked to our director of IT last night right after you called. He assured me no one could get through our firewall and we’ve had no other sign of breaches. This happened in February. It has to be someone on the inside. I have a list of people who were keyed into the building that night. We’re scouring through those names but, so far, we don’t think it’s anyone who works closely with you. Whoever did it was careful. I don’t know how you thought to check the exact time they were created, but good thinking.”

No way am I telling him about Eli, my federal-agent-savior. His playful texts sent my insides into overdrive. It doesn’t matter how good it felt or how much I might want it. Or him. Even if it’s just the idea of him. I’m not at the point where I can afford the time for a man.

He took a chance by barging into my building last night to tell me something I’m pretty sure he had no business sharing, all because his gut told him I didn’t do what I’m being accused of. Simply because he wanted to do the right thing. Which I appreciate. But some strange part of me that hasn’t surfaced in a long time wants it to be more.

Eli Pettit is intriguing and I can’t ignore him.

I want him to want me.

I want him not to care that I got my job because of my last name or that I’ve been handed everything I’ve wanted my whole life and, now that I make more money than ninety-five percent of the people in our company, I can afford pretty much anything I want. Or that I make more money than him. Because one of my last two relationships came down to that and the other one was because he wanted an in with Montgomery Industries and thought bedding me would be the way to his dream job.

He might have bedded me and I might have enjoyed it just a little bit but, when I realized his true intentions, I also kicked his ass out the door and, in the process, blackballed him from any refining company in Texas.

The last I heard, he’d moved to Minneapolis. I hope the asshole is shoveling snow right about now.

And if a man can’t handle a woman making more money than him, he needs to grow a pair.

If I remember correctly, that People snippet on me calculated the cost of my outfit, shoes, and tote. I don’t know why folks get off on that, but they do.

Knowing all this, Eli still badged his way into my building. He believes I’m innocent and wants to help prove it. And he’s right—I’m not only numbers smart. I can tell when a man is interested.

I stand and move toward Patrick’s door. “I’ll be in my office trying to focus. Let me know if you hear from Lehmans.”

The last thing I hear as I leave is Patrick bark, “Change your passwords!”

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