Page 83 of Dirty Little Secrets
I don’t want to do that to Emery. I don’t want that type of relationship. One that stems from an animalistic hierarchy of predator and prey. I want us both to soar. To explore the same sky, to dive into the same waters, to see eye to eye. To be partners. In every respect. Tonight. I’ll tell her tonight. I’llshowher tonight.
The rematch of a lifetime.
My phone vibrates against the set of helicopter keys in my pocket, and I swallow, reminding myself that destiny exists only in my mind, in my ability to change perspective.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Cavanaugh…” Miranda's voice trails off, nervous. “Umm… You told me to inform you if someone ever tried to access the VenCore files.” My blood turns cold. “We, uh… We just got a hit on the internal servers.”
My jaw tenses. “Who?” It’s a stupid question. I knew she’d come across that name eventually. And with her memory? She’d remember that name. “Miranda?”
“The request came from Miss Jones’s IP address,” she says. “Should I block her access completely? Or?”
My heart sinks. I've been dreading this moment. If she gets her hands on those files, it could mean the end of everything. If she doesn’t pry, there’s no problem. As long as I steer her away, nothing will happen.
I try to keep my voice steady as I reply, "I’ll handle it. Thank you, Miranda.”
As she hangs up, my palms start to sweat. I need to act fast if I want to stay ahead of Emery.
I race back to the office, my mind spinning with possibilities. What if she's found a way around the firewall? What if she bypassed security? I take a deep breath and force myself to focus on the task at hand. It’s fine. Even if she did see the files, there’s no way she’d put it together. There’s no way.
When I arrive at her door, she’s sitting at her desk, her attention glued to the computer screen. She looks up as I knock, her expression surprised but not unfriendly.
"You look like you could use this," I say, trying to keep my tone light as I glance down to the coffee in my hand. I hold up the cup, hoping that she'll take the bait. To my relief, she seems momentarily thrown off guard but takes it. “Careful. It’s hot.”
She takes a small, hesitant sip. “This is?—”
“Half-caf,” I verify. “Black.”
Her lips twist up. “How did you…?”
I shrug, trying to play it cool. Trying to act like I don’t know each and every one of her preferences. “I pay attention.”
She tries to hide it, but her faint smile is tinged with appreciation. “Thank you,” she says. “I needed this.”
“Busy day?” I ask, sitting down in front of her, my tone casual.
“Tedious day,” she sighs, leaning back into her chair. She rubs her temples. “We’ve got four more accounts to consolidate before handing the files to the auditors. I’ve been trying to access one for the last two hours, but my logins aren’t working.” She tilts her head down, an unreadable expression on her face. “Why can’t I access VenCore LLC?”
My heart rate spikes. I need to be careful, to deflect her questions without arousing suspicion. “That’s odd. You should have open access. It’s probably just a system error. I can get Miranda to check it out.” I swallow subtly. “Why don’t you just skip over that account? I’ll deal with it myself.”
Emery's not so easily fooled. "I’d prefer to do it myself,” she says. “For the sake of quality control and all.”
I give her a disarming smile. “Is that a jab at me, Miss Jones?”
She rolls her eyes. “Not everything is about you, Mr. Cavanaugh. I’m just trying to do my job.” She tilts her head. “And do it well.”
I chuckle. “If I recall correctly, Miss Jones, wasn’t there something about being a team player on your resume? Let me handle this one, okay? I promise I won’t disrupt your impeccable reporting system.”
She stares at me for several charged seconds. “WhatisVenCore? It sounds…familiar.”
Of course, it sounds familiar. That fucking reporter at the gala mentioned it right in front of her. I know itwas Quinton who leaked it. Who else could it have been? Clearly, he didn’t spill all the deep, dark secrets connected to VenCore, but he served up a taste. A tiny crumb. I can’t have mice following the trail. Discovering the truth. Especially not Emery. She’d never look at me the same again.
A rush of panic passes through me but I keep it at bay and lean back into my chair, feigning ignorance. She could be testing me. My reaction.
“VenCore?” I ask in a hum. “I’m not entirely sure. It’s hard to keep track of every single client. They’re probably a smaller account.”
“Yeah?” She arches an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve seen them on our client list before.”
