Page 33 of Who Said Execs Couldn't Be HEXed?

“As great as taking compliments?” she jokes. Patting me on the shoulder as I stare at her in confusion, she grabs an orange-colored bottle from the fridge and closes the door. “You were convincingly humble, I’ll give you that, but your tone was a bit off. I’d work on that.”

Claiming a stool next to the one she sits on, I pop a straw in my drink and try it. The taste is mango and papaya. “You could tell?”

Eleanor shrugs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. I studied behavioral psychology, so it’s kind of automatic sometimes.”

So Eleanor is a behavioral psychologist, but she’s working as an assistant? I’m sure that if Aran was here, he’d want to know more. “Why did you decide to be Mrs. Lynx’s assistant?”

Her smile doesn’t drop, which is a good sign. “I get this a lot from family and friends. Well, the truth is that my background is the reason why she hired me in the first place. Sometimes, I accompany her to meetings or negotiations and help her read the others. She’s a very ambitious woman, as I am sure you’ve noticed, and she likes to get what she wants…”

Eleanor’s expression clouds for a few heartbeats, but she doesn’t elaborate. I regret once again that Aran isn’t here, because I am positive he’d know how to make her talk by using his charm and air of reliability. Or, well, if that didn’t work, he’d haul her over one shoulder, take her to our cabin and intimidate her into confessing. He’s talented like that.

We slip into a lighter conversation about the things Eleanor does as an assistant. It’s mostly organizing stuff, keeping on top of appointments and schedules, replying to people and handling social media. It sounds like a lot and like she is constantly busy, but her eyes sparkle throughout, so I think she loves her job.

When we move onto me, I make up some stuff, mostly drawing from the things Aran has done for me through the years, but as if I had been the one tasked with watching over my best friend’s son. I’m not very good at putting myself in other people’s shoes, but I guess I can see how troublesome some of the situations I’d gotten him into objectively are. Like that time we went out for dinner and the people from the neighboring table were being assholes and I tried to hack one of their phones to do some damage, but it turned out they worked for some cyber security company and had enhanced measures in place.

It’s one of the few mistakes I’ve made in my life, and it happened when I was sixteen.

My embarrassing memory has Eleanor laughing like she’s being tickled to death though, so I count it as a win. When she calms down, she asks me about my social life and whether I manage to balance that with my demanding security job.

“Of course! My two best friends and I hang out all the time. They live relatively close-by, so it’s very easy to get together.”

Sadness crosses over her features, dampening her ever-present smile. “That sounds nice. I guess that if I had to name one disadvantage of my job, it’s that the amount of travel I do alongside the Lynxes makes it hard to keep in touch with my friends. Not that there are many of those.”

I grab the first half-empty bottle of alcohol I can reach and offer it to her. “I’ll be your friend! And who knows, if the Lynxes need a bodyguard, maybe you can put in a good word, and you won’t have to worry about us keeping in touch.”

She hugs me, smothering me a little. “You are so cute, I swear. Where have you been my entire life? You are a bit ridiculous, too, but it’s refreshing.” She pulls away, but doesn’t take her gaze off my face. “Maybe I’ll suggest she hire you. Tonight, once the after party is over.”

I shake my head, laughing with her. “We’ll be on this cruise for like ten more days. I don’t think there’s a rush.”

She studies the liquid in her glass for a long moment, then empties with one big gulp. I think it’s her fourth glass since we sat down. “She wants to talk to me, anyway.” Eleanor bumps her elbow into my arm. “I helped her with something”—her nose scrunches up a bit as if it’s itching—“biga few weeks back. I think she’s planning to promote me, so it’s great timing.”

Oh, shit. What do I do if Mrs. Lynx agrees and offers me the job? Aran will hate this. But also, if I work for Mrs. Lynx, I get unlimited access to all the systems I can’t access right now, so really, he can’t complain.

Speaking of access and systems… “Uh, sorry, but where’s the restroom? I think I had too much soda.”

She points at the door on the other end of the breakfast counter. “Just down the hall. First door on the left.”

I leave Eleanor at the counter and slip out of the busy lounge, closing the door behind me. In comparison to the lively room I just left, the corridor is quiet and empty and a little creepy. I enter the first door on the left and after making sure there is no one hiding or making out, I check the other three rooms. One is a guest bedroom with black curtains and bed linen, the second is a study with a wooden desk, empty shelves and no computer for me to hack into, and the third one is a sauna/jacuzzi.

I should’ve guessed that hacking into the ship’s secondary network wouldn’t be so easy. The Lynxes probably keep all their important stuff on the second floor, where the partying people aren’t allowed to go. There were two guards at the top of the stairs too, so I don’t think sneaking up there will be an option.

But I still have Eleanor. And she’s drunk. As long as she has her work phone—or if she’s using her personal phone for work—I’m pretty sure I can move us one or ten steps closer to our objective.

I lead a very drunk Eleanor to the guest bedroom and, after making sure she is comfortably snuggled on the bed with the black linen, I get to work hacking into her phone. Unlocking it is the easiest part—I just need her thumb. It turns out that my suspicions were right and she is indeed using her personal phone for work. Or the other way around. It doesn’t matter; the important thing is that I have access to stuff I couldn’t reach before. Unfortunately, the secondary network uses dynamic access and has its credentials refreshed every hour, so unless I have those, I can’t connect to it. On the bright side though, I have its name now, which will allow me to attempt to hack it.

Seeing as I won’t get far right now, and that I am ten minutes late getting back to my and Aran’s cabin, which probably means he’s starting to freak out, I take out my phone and clone Eleanor’s. It’s done via a little nasty program that I created, which I download on my her device. Upon installation, it deletes any trace of the download, hides itself from the system and mimics a background process. You know, like one of those service host processes you see when you open the task manager on a Windows machine. As long as the target’s device is active and has mobile/data access, all the information is fed into my phone. I can’t interact with it—that requires an extra few steps and is easier to detect—but I can see everything, which is all I need in order to hack into a system externally. Plus, that way, I won’t get Eleanor into trouble.

Mumbling, the woman turns on her side. I scramble to get off the bed, dropping her phone next to her and hiding mine as she opens her eyes. A groggy smile settles on her face, interrupted by a yawn.

“Where am I?” she asks, wincing as she tries to sit up. “Oh, hell, my head is about to split.”

I offer her a commiserating smile and take out a painkiller. After I’ve handed it to her, I hold up the glass of water I’d prepared on the end table. “Yeah, you drank a lot and then we danced and then you needed to pee. You passed out in the hall and so I took you to the guest bedroom. Here, drink this.”

She does as told, groaning and massaging her temples. “Sorry, and thank you. You are such a sweetie, Hex. I’m so getting you that job.”

“I haven’t had so much fun in a while. I was busy with training and briefings and I miss my friends, so it’s nice to find someone to hang out with while the cruise lasts.”

“I second that!” she pipes up and immediately whines in pain. I help her lie back down. “What time is it? Please tell me the party isn’t over yet. I can’t be late for the meeting with Mrs. Lynx.”

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