Page 50 of Who Said Execs Couldn't Be HEXed?

I thank Hex, kiss his cheek, and head out. The night is as uneventful as the one before, heightening my irritation and nerves. It really feels like it’s game over for us. I’m good at what I do, and this is not my first mission of this sort, but the challenges we’ve faced so far speak volumes about the importance of whatever is happening here.

Those in charge have taken every possible precaution and it’s making my job a hell of a lot harder, even with Hex in my corner. He’s a genius, but sometimes his usual methods don’t work. It’s why he came with me in the first place—if he could’ve hacked into the systems from home, he’d have done it—but even so, we haven’t made as much progress as both of us hoped to have by this point.

I scan my ID and enter our cabin, sighing as I take my shoes off. As soon I’ve joined my two companions in the lounge, their hard expressions tell me they don’t have good news either.

We get started on dinner and as I chop vegetables for curry, I ponder if I need to change our approach, to take more risks. I’d never put Hex or Mong in unnecessary danger, but I have skills that, albeit rusty, can be utilized.

“You are thinking bad thoughts,” Hex accuses me, bouncing his eyebrows. “They should be good ones instead. Like a blowjob. From me. After dinner.” His hand squeezes me through my pants, and he hollows out one cheek, then pushes it out. I bet money this is Matthew’s influence.

Mong stifles a snort and takes three plates from the cupboard above the sink. “He’s not wrong, you know. Positive thoughts bring positive things into your life.”

This kind of talk is way too wishy-washy for my realist self. I open my mouth to change the direction of our conversation, but Hex’s phone rings just then from the table.

He whips his head and looks at it as if it’s a snake preparing to bite him. Then he lets it ring.

“Won’t you pick up?” Mong takes the words out of my mouth.

“Um, yes…” He sprints over, panting as he picks up the device and holds it out to us. “It’s just… This is the ringtone I set for Mrs. Lynx.”

Suddenly, I’m no longer slowly drowning in the middle of an endless ocean. This is it, the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for. My blood thrums inside me, my heart pounds in my ears.

“Pick up. And act normal. Be a little sad and worried that you haven’t heard from her in days,” I instruct my lovely partner-in-crime. Or well, one of them, though the other one is not nearly as endearing as Hex.

Nodding, he answers the call and puts it on speaker. “Hi, Mrs. Lynx! Is everything okay? I’ve been trying to call you…”

“Hi, dear. It’s lovely to hear your voice. We are okay, don’t worry, just busy with some boring but important work stuff, that’s all. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

“That’s fine! I’m just happy you and Mr. Lynx are okay.”

“I hope you enjoyed our little party. We are holding another one tonight, if I can interest you in that. I’ve got something I want to talk to you about,” she says slyly.

I bristle, not a fan of her flirtatious tone. I get this agitated feeling under my skin whenever she talks to Hex, like nails scraping against a chalkboard, and this time I have to reel it in even harder. As much as I hate to admit it, this is our way forward. If Claire Streiss wants to talk to Hex, then that means Eleanor must’ve successfully sold him to her. Once he’s contracted as a bodyguard, we’ll have access to the Streisses’ personal files and information, which will, no doubt, sway the scales in our favor.

I just need to endure having her close to him a little longer.

“Oh, really?” Hex shrieks in excitement, giving me the thumbs up. “I wonder what it might be!”

She giggles in that girlish manner that doesn’t fit her age. “Hmm, should I tell you? I think I’ll keep it a surprise. But I guarantee you will like it.”

Hex chuckles. “I need to remember I owe Eleanor a thanks.”

“Oh? For the party? Don’t worry about it. It’s her job to make sure all my guests have a good time.” A door opening and voices in the background fill the pause in their conversation as all three of us stare at each other.

Her response was strange… as if she didn’t realize Hex meant the job offer.

“I have to go now, dear,” she says after instructing someone on her end to bring out more wine glasses.

I see the moment Hex panics, his facial muscles tensing as his mind races. “Wait!”

“Yes?”

A pause of silence ensues, heavy and awkward. “Uh, can I bring a friend?”

She’s quiet for a few moments. “I don’t think your supervisor will enjoy our little party. There will hardly be anyone his age, just young lovely things such as yourself.” A few clicks of a keyboard follow. “And I think he’s got a shift tonight, anyway. You wouldn’t want him to miss it and get in trouble, would you?”

How does she know that? The security roster isn’t public information.

I clench my hands into fists and combat the impulse to grab the phone from Hex and end the call.I don’t like this. Something is off.

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