Blue rubbed his hand over his eyes. They were still red and sore. “Maggie, I swear. You could be in the Gulag and talking about how Stalin is probably merely misunderstood. It’s okay tosay you don’t like someone. It’s okay to say she’s a standoffish prude, an ice princess.”
Maggie bit her lip, trying to hold back more words.
He poked her. “Say it.”
“I do think she’s misunderstood. I think she’s shy and socially awkward.”
“I’ll give you the awkward part,” Blue said, scowling. “Why are you standing up for her? She’s anoutsider.” He said the last part in a scary whisper.
“So was I, not that long ago. And do I have to remind you what you thought of Ridge in the beginning? First impressions are not always correct,” Maggie said.
“Okay, we were wrong about Ridge, but he never burned off my retinas with capsaicin or diminished my chances for reproduction with coffee.”
“No, but he was going to. Way to ruin Christmas, Blue,” Maggie said, and he grinned at her.
“You are not allowed to cheer me up after this day. Stop it. Let me wallow in my misery and loathing. Jane Dunbar is horrible, and I hate her, hate her, hate her.”
Ridge finally arrived, late as usual after tying up loose ends at work. “I’m sorry to hear that because guess who’s accompanying her to Philadelphia.” he said, stooping to kiss Maggie before sitting down beside her.
Blue dropped his forehead onto the table with a groan. “Someone trade lives with me.”And please let it be Ridge.
“I will,” LuAnn said, wincing as she shifted in her chair. She was eight months pregnant with twins. Tonight’s outing would likely be her last for a long time. “You can push these two out and then we’ll trade back.”
“I would, but I’ve been recently incapacitated by hot coffee,” Blue said, his tone bitter.
“It is in your best interest to get along with Jane Dunbar,” Ridge said, though not unkindly.
“Tell her that,” Blue said.
“I did. She said she feels terrible about everything and she wants to start over. Clean slate.”
“My slate is scalded and coffee stained,” Blue said.
“Blue,” Ridge said, eyes narrowing.
“Fine, Dad, whatever. I’ll try to get along with the little harpy.”
Ridge cleared his throat.
“I mean the little sweetheart. She’s super. We’re going to be BFF’s. Maybe I’ll go make some bracelets right now with my 3D printer. Speaking of which, I can’t find her.”
“I think she’s at the museum,” Maggie said.
“You know I only speak in terms of the virtual world, and yet you continue to mock,” Blue said.
“No, that’s why I mock,” Maggie said.
“She has no social media footprint. None. No credit rating. No social security record. No driver’s license.” He looked around the table, but no one seemed to care. “Doesn’t anyone find that odd?”
“That you tried to hack a new coworker? Yes,” Ridge said. “Also, outside of social media, none of what you just said was legal.”
“In the scheme of things, what does legality have to do with anything, really?” Blue mused.
“How was Victorville, Blue? Good enough for a return trip?” Ridge asked.
Blue sighed. He had done eighteen months in the federal penitentiary at Victorville for hacking the Defense Department’s computers. He’d been a hotshot eighteen-year-old hacker, out to prove himself as the best. He’d done so, but not without a price. Who knew what might have become of him if his boss, the manwho recruited him, Colonel John Caruthers, hadn’t paid him a little visit all those years ago? He’d never forget The Colonel’s words to him when he was a cocky, misguided nineteen year old.
Son, you have two choices: You can finish your time here and keep being stupid, or I can get you out now and you can work for me.And so Blue had left prison eighteen months ahead of schedule, moved cross country to Washington DC, and started his career in military intelligence six months before his twentieth birthday. He began at the Defense Department, shoring up security of the same place he’d hacked, and then went to the FBI before landing at the CIA and now Ridge’s team. And he’d enjoyed his life immensely. Until today and Jane Dunbar.