Just One Night. Part 3 by Elle Casey Read Free Book Online

“What are you about, then? Why the messages, interrupting my work?” I flick a gaze over to my screen where her private message sits.
    She leans over, grabs the arms of her chair and drags it closer to my desk before sitting again. She’s speaking barely above a whisper. “I sent that to you because you said that thing about hacking computers.”
    My foolish mouth has gotten me into trouble again. Time to repair the damage. “It was a poorly timed joke. Nothing to worry about. Forget I said it.”
    “I could do that. Hack a computer. If you needed me to, I mean. I mean, not like to steal money or be a thief, because I follow the law … for the most part … but if you needed to see inside someone’s computer, I could help you with that.”
    My motor nerves have gone numb. I’m frozen, like an Abraham Lincoln statue, in my chair. The only things I can move are my fingers and they are gripping the arm rests enough to turn my knuckles white.
    “Whatever are you talking about?” I manage to say a few seconds later.
    She twists her mouth all around, her gaze darting from my desk to my computer, to my clock, and to my wall. She is looking everywhere but at me.
    “Miss Meechum, I asked you a simple question and I expect an answer that makes sense.”
    She stands all of a sudden. “Never mind. I’m just being silly.” She points at me. “Ha, ha, joke’s on you!” She moves around her chair, backing towards the door.
    I’m struck speechless. She is a complete ninny, and all I can do is stare at her as she stumbles towards the door. Before I can construct a response, she is gone again.
    My only companion is the clock, and it continues to tick-tock, tick-tock, reminding me of how much closer the weekend is now than it was just moments before.
    I swivel sideways in my chair and look at my screen. Why on earth would she send me this message as a joke? She wouldn’t, now would she? That would make even less sense than the thing being true.
    Could it be true? That the daft woman on the other side of the wall isn’t nearly as daft as she appears? Doubt trickles in. Yes, I suppose it’s possible. She does know her way around a spreadsheet, more so than any previous assistants I’ve been forced to endure. And she did become very nervous when she accidentally mentioned hacking into my email account that one time…
    A light of hope sparks to life inside my chest. Ingrid has me by the short hairs but only because she holds a computer file over my head. What if she no longer had that file? What if I could erase it from existence?
    This glimpse of freedom is all it takes for me to consider the impossible. Before this weekend, I would have ended the employ of Miss Meechum just for admitting to not being entirely truthful in her interview, for admitting that she engages in questionable practices that involve computers. But today, I view this as an opportunity, a skill to be utilized in the running of my business. The fact that it’s more my personal business than that of the company does give me pause, but it does not stop me from sending my next message over the computer lines directly to her desk:
    “Show me what you can do.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Jennifer

    MY FINGERS TREMBLE AS I dial the phone. I can do this. Why am I so freaked out? Probably because I know that this is an act of desperation, that somehow William will figure out that I’ve Googled him fifty times and will come to the conclusion that I’m a freak. I’m just glad Mia left and isn’t here to witness my shame.
    I fully expect to have to work my way through several layers of secretaries, so when the voice at the other end of the line is male and has a British accent, I’m taken aback.
    “Stratford Investments, how may I help you?”
    “Uhh … ummm … hello. May I speak with … William? Mr. Stratford, I mean?”
    “That would depend,” says the voice.
    My face heats up and my belly warms. I’m almost sure this is William himself, but just in case