Page 12 of Left of the Slash
“Not at all. I'm down for whatever you want to do.”
Another glance down. “Good to know. Okay, well I appreciate you being on top of this, Quinn. We’ll talk again soon.”
I smirk as I start to get up. “Looking forward to it.”
I spin around and walk out, stopping by my office to turn off the lights before heading toward the double doors. But before I leave, I take a second to glance over my shoulder, and I catch Olivia staring at me as I go. She tries to play it off by messing with her computer, but it’s too late. I saw the look on her face, and it told me that Olivia’s interest in me isn't strictly professional. As far as I'm concerned, that’s perfect, because my interest in her never was anyway.
When my phone rings, I frown hard because it’s too early for calls. I haven't even had time to brush my teeth yet or wash the sleepiness off of my face. I'm standing in my bathroom looking in the mirror with the reflection of a zombie staring back at me when my cell rings next to the sink.
At first, I think it might be Olivia calling to fire me. Our conversation yesterday definitely took a personal turn, with flirtation flying everywhere like sparks, and I saw the way she was looking at me as I was leaving. Maybe she realized how she was acting and has decided to get me out of there before she can fraternize. After everything she said about her father's view of how her life should be, and how much she took all of it to heart, I can’t imagine her being okay with flirting with a subordinate. So, now that she has had time to sleep on it, maybe she’s going to tell me not to come in at all so that she doesn't have to see me.
“Hello?” I answer with the phone on speaker and a furrowed brow.
“Hey. I know it’s earlier than usual, but we need you in the office ASAP,” Jon says with no hesitation, his voice heightened by urgency.
Well, at least I'm not being fired, which means I’ll get to sit with Olivia again. How hot will those sparks make the room next time?
“I just got up but I’ll hurry,” I reply. “What’s going on?”
“No time to explain all of the details,” he says. “We just need you here right now. There has been another breach.”
NINE - Quinn
The scene inside of Obsidian is confusing. At one end of the building, it’s business as usual. Phone calls and conversations, coffee mugs and computer screens, keyboards and spreadsheets. I walk through the front half of the company and see it moving as if nothing has happened, but crossing into the executive wing is like walking beneath a dark cloud with lightning piercing the sky above. The mood is somber and despondent, and I swear the temperature is ten degrees lower than on the other side. Clearly the employees haven't been told that panic has settled over the top of the totem pole, and when Jon closes the double doors behind me, I know there are no plans to tell them. Whatever has happened must be bad.
Jon shuts the doors and steps in front of me in a wrinkled white button-up, his five o’clock shadow messier than ever thismorning. He places his hands on his hips and lets out a long sigh reeking of stale coffee before making eye contact with me.
“Hey,” he says. “Sorry to call you so early in the morning, Quinn, but we’ve got a serious situation here. It could be really bad, but no matter how you feel when you come out of the conference room with this information, I don't want you to inform anyone outside of the executive wing. If it does come to that, Olivia will be the one to let everyone know.”
I adjust my black tie, cinching it tighter under my chin before saying, “Let everyone know what, Jon?”
He sighs again, this one more frustrated than the first. “She’lltell you. Come on.”
Jon spins on his heel and leads me into the conference room where everyone is already waiting at the table. Nick and Stephen are on the far side with their usual looks of annoyance on their faces, and Eden is in her spot at the end, notepad in front of her with her fingers clasped together on top of it, red hair streaking over both shoulders in beautiful waves. However, there is a new person taking a space today. A Black woman with gorgeous curly hair that looks like it took hours to style, but I know it’s natural. She's dressed in all-black and sits next to Eden with a face full of poise and confidence behind black-framed glasses. She doesn't speak when I walk in. She simply nods with a slight smile, then goes back to reviewing the handwritten notes in front of her.
I take my seat next to Jon, and the second my butt hits the cushion, the doors open again and Olivia walks in. Memories of our conversation from yesterday come rushing back to me—the eye contact, the smirking, the giggling, the mention of our shades of darkness. It all hits me like a train and I'm right back in that moment, ready to take it further this time—to find out if Olivia is really into me like I'm into her. The memory stays with me as she struts in, and I must be staring at her for too long, because when Olivia sits down in her black and gray pantsuit, Isee Eden looking at me with a smirk on her lips like she caught me in the act.
Shit.
I don't know what else to do, so I just look away from her as fast as I can as Olivia begins addressing the room. From her very first word, I can tell this is not the same Olivia I was talking to yesterday.
“Good morning,” she starts without looking at me even once. “Well, there's nothing good about it, but instead of me trying to figure out how to word what’s happening, I'd like to introduce you all to Annette Jenkins.” Olivia gestures toward the end of the table at the young woman in the black-framed glasses. “Annette is from the finance department, and she will brief you all on what she found this morning. The floor is yours Mrs. Jenkins.”
The woman now known as Annette Jenkins clears her throat, re-stacks her papers, and takes a brief moment to make eye contact with every person at the table in front of her. She is all business and seriousness, and my brows knit together as she takes a breath and begins.
“Thank you, Miss Lucero. Good morning, everybody,” she begins in a high-pitched voice much thinner than I expected. “Most of you have never met me, but my name is Annette and I am the financial director for Obsidian. Most of my work is directly with Miss Lucero, so I don't get the opportunity to meet with everyone on a regular basis unless something bad happens. Something like what happened this morning when I came in. Per usual, I logged into the network for the company and performed my daily checks and analysis of Obsidian’s financial accounts. There are a number of different accounts that the company uses for different expenses, specifically for tax purposes … well, I don't want to bore you with the details, but as I was inspecting the various accounts, I noticed a discrepancy with the operating account. I dug a little deeper and confirmed anunusual transaction that took place late last night. It stuck out to me because transactions don't take place at night, and in the rare event that they do, I'm made aware of the executive approval in advance, and it is never in an amount as substantial as this. This particular transaction took place at midnight, and it was a wire transfer of five-hundred-thousand-dollars … to an untraceable offshore account.”
“What the fuck?” I blurt out before I can stop myself, the words forcing my mouth open like a battering ram.
Annette glances at me and clears her throat, but I look around the room wondering why no one else seems to be as shocked as I am. Jon’s face is completely devoid of emotion and his minions don't look surprised either. The only one who seems concerned is Olivia, and the look on her face when we make eye contact makes my insides boil. She looks both disappointed and sad at the same time. Her heartbreak becomes apparent in her eyes, and I feel … I don't know how I feel. There's something in her gaze—a sadness that dulls the brightness of her aura, and I suddenly feel … protective? Is that the right word? I don't even have time to diagnose the feeling before Annette continues.
“As I was saying,” she says. “The transfer seems to be untraceable, which means we have no idea who did it or where the money has gone, but a loss like this could potentially affect a lot of moving pieces for the company, including payroll. This is what my department would call a major breach, because this means that our system was hacked and we don't know what else may have been affected. We’re currently working with multiple department heads to analyze all operations, just to be sure.”
If my forehead furrowed any harder, I'm sure it would crumble into a million pieces. I can barely believe what I'm hearing, and I know Jon got this news before me, but why the fuck is everyone so calm? Annette said this was a major breach, but even that feels like an undersell. This is gargantuan and couldhave huge consequences for Obsidian and Olivia. If we don't shut this down right now, we won't have any clients and no money to pay employees. We’ll be finished, and Olivia will never be CEO of anything ever again. Jon will be able to tell his future employers that he performed brilliantly as interim CEO until he was ousted and had to watch the company succumb to the disastrous leadership of his replacement. He’ll have a job before the sun comes up the day after Obsidian’s doors close.
I turn to Olivia and see the understanding in her eyes, almost as if she's thinking the exact same thing I am, but this isn't her preferred field and she doesn't know the first thing about how to solve this. This is exactly why she asked me to work with her on finding out what’s happening to Obsidian. This is why she needs me. I get it now. We made a connection yesterday, and I feel it pulling at me now like a ghost tugging at my shirt. I don't know why I feel it so deeply, but I can't let this shit slide. My job is at risk. The entire company is at risk. Olivia and everything she dreamed of being is at risk, and I'm sure the love she feels for her father and her desire to please him is tearing her apart right now.
“So, what are we doing about this?” Jon asks smugly. He speaks the words, but there is no feeling behind them, which makes the question annoying. Why ask if you don't really give a fuck?
