“Not that you would,” she quickly acknowledged. “But I’m overly cautious when it comes to stuff like that. I’ve been burned before.”
He frowned. “Is this about Keighleigh?”
“Believe it or not, there was someone worse than Keighleigh.” She tipped her head to the side. “Actually, that stunt she pulled this past week has them neck and neck, but this previous incident had a much bigger impact.”
Daniel took her by the hand and backed up until he could perch on the arm of the sofa. He tugged her between his open legs and ran his hands along her sides, settling them at her waist.
“Tell me what happened.”
The tension he felt radiating from her told him that this still affected her.
“It was at my very first job. I worked for one of the other huge tech companies that will remain nameless, but for a while they basically owned much of Austin. I was fresh out of grad school and soaking wet behind the ears—that’s how my old supervisor described me. I developed a fix for an issue they’d been having with their recovery software, and was so excited that I stupidly shared it with a coworker. He immediately passed the idea off as his own. I tried to bring proof that it had been my idea, but I was accused of not being a team player. Since he had so many years at the company, he was given the benefit of the doubt, and I earned the reputation of being a selfish grandstander.”
“That’s bullshit. It was your idea.”
“That’s the cutthroat world of the tech industry. That guy is now the senior VP of Product Design at another firm.” She shrugged. “I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve that position, but I’ve followed his career. His rise to the top stemmed from my idea.” Another shrug. “I’ve had to deal with similar situations throughout my career. I learned to keep my cards close to my chest, especially around those who have the knowledge to take my ideas and run with them.”
“Just to be clear, I would never do that to you. Ever.”
No, he just lied to her face about who he really was.
“I know,” she said. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Knowing you wouldn’t turn around and stab me in the back is the only reason I was finally able to share it with you. It’s nice to have someone in this industry that I can trust.” She kissed him again. “Hey, do you like Jamaican food? I’m in the mood for curried goat and plantains.”
“Sounds like the perfect rainy day meal,” he answered around the lump of self-loathing lodged in his throat.
Once she’d left the room, Daniel threw his head back and shut his eyes tight. She was going to hate him for a long, long time once the truth finally came out. Possibly forever.
And he would deserve it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
How about the Leyland Group Lovelies?”
Groans wafted up to the high ceilings as Sam Hilton shielded himself from the balled-up notebook paper, candy wrappers, and Post-it Notes being hurled his way.
“Don’t let them get to you,” Daniel said. “They may not appreciate your humor, but I do.”
A yellow highlighter sailed toward him.
“Duck and weave, dude,” Sam said. “It’s the only way to survive this crowd.”
Daniel tilted his chair back until he met with resistance, then gently bounced back and forth as he absorbed the scene before him. All the conference rooms were occupied, so the Leyland Group team had commandeered a corner of Trendsetters’ huge kitchen and break area. Some had dragged in nearby desk chairs and rearranged existing furniture to make a circle, other sat right on the floor.
As he studied his coworkers, he was taken aback by the realization that he would miss this—he’d missthem. He averted his gaze from the faces around him, confused by the sudden tightness in his chest. In the nearly two dozen undercover operations he’d worked since joining FinCEN two years ago, he’d become accustomed to his routine. As the quiet but friendly new guy at the office, he came in, did his job, and then left with no regrets.
Not this time. He’d connected with these people on a level he’d never encountered with past jobs. No doubt it was due in large part to the collaborative office environment Trendsetters fostered, but it was more than that. The creative energy and hunger for innovation he saw in his coworkers reminded him of his college days, when his imagination and drive wasn’t stifled by federal regulations and congressional budget cuts. There was a kinship with his Trendsetters R&D teammates, one that harkened back to the comradeship he’d found in the Marines.
He glanced over at Samiah and the tightness in his chest intensified.
Now that he was no longer ignoring the reality of his eventual departure, he couldn’t even think about her without regret clawing at his throat. He knew an end date was imminent. His breath caught every time he received a call from the 703 area code. Every passing hour brought him closer to the moment when Lowell Dwyer would pull the plug on this operation. Daniel still didn’t know how he would handle that.
Their team broke into groups of three, each working on a different aspect of the last-minute details before their presentation on the Leyland Group project tomorrow. Daniel had just finished his explanation of the backend safeguard that had been added to the software when his phone vibrated in his pocket. It stopped, then started again. He took it out and looked at the screen.
Sorry, right number. HQ
“Hey, I’ll be back in a minute,” Daniel said.
“Is everything okay?” Samiah asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
