Chapter 1
404: Social Skills Not Found
JAMES
My fingers fly across the keyboard, executing commands faster than most people can process them. Coronation Street plays quietly in the background; reruns from 2003; no one needs to know I still watch this rubbish.
The familiar Salford accents a white noise I'd never admit to needing. This is my element. The digital world makes sense in ways people never do. Predictable. Logical. No messy emotions or unspoken expectations.
"James," Drew calls from the doorway of our makeshift office, interrupting my flow. "We need you."
It takes a minute before I look up. "System update at ninety-two percent. Give me three minutes."
"It's important," he insists. "We've got the guy who manipulated those photos of Tyler."
That gets my attention. I've spent the last forty-eight hours trying to track down the origin of those images, photos that made it look like Tyler cheated on Ethan. The fact that someone physically standing in our house might have the answer is irritating. All that work for nothing.
"Fine.” Pushing back from my desk, I grab my hoodie from the back of my chair and zip it halfway up over my"404: Christmas Spirit Not Found" t-shirt. The frat's sudden obsession with tinsel and holiday playlists started three days after Halloween, and my silent protest via wardrobe has gone completely unnoticed. Typical.
Drew leads me to a small conference room, where Tyler stands with a sullen, dark-haired man who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. Slender, pale, with long hair partially hiding his face, cornflower blue eyes that?—
Well shit.
Of course, the guy who nearly destroyed Tyler's relationship is unfairly attractive.Wonderful.Just what this situation needed.
He looks exactly like the type of pretentious a-hole I've spent years trying to avoid. The type who's probably also ridiculously fit under those dark, slouchy clothes, which makes this whole thing even more annoying.
"James, this is Caleb Huntington the third," Drew introduces. "Caleb, James is our Webmaster. He'll help you extract the files we need."
Caleb gives a quick once-over, his expression distinctly unimpressed. "You're the computer guy? Great."
The dismissive tone hits a nerve that didn't need to be hit. "And you're the guy who takes money to ruin people's lives? Charming."
His blue eyes flash. "I didn't know what they were going to do with the images."
"Right," my voice is flat. "Just doing your job. Classic."
Drew clears his throat pointedly. "James, Caleb has agreed to help us prove the photos were manipulated. He has all the source files."
"I still have the originals and the composites," Caleb explains, not looking at me. "And the work history that shows the exact manipulations."
"Show me."
He hesitates, clutching his laptop bag closer. "I'll need to log into my cloud storage."
"Use my machine," I say, pointing to my station. "It's more secure than the house Wi-Fi."
Something like respect flickers across his face before he masks it. "Fine."
While Drew and Tyler step out to talk, Caleb sits at my desk, automatically adjusting the chair back. I stand behind him, arms crossed, watching as he logs into his account. His password is complex; at least he's not completely careless with security.
"So, what's the going rate for character assassination these days?"
His shoulders tense. "I didn't know they were setting up anyone."
"But you knew you were manipulating photos to make it look like someone was cheating."
He turns to look at me, defiance in his eyes. "I knew I was putting someone's face on another body. It could have been a joke, a prank, whatever. I didn't ask questions."
