“Hey.” She shuffles up to standing and walks over to where our banisters almost touch. “Any more news on our data breach?”
“We’ve got one guy talking about it over on Reddit. That’s it. My dark web monitoring hasn’t detected anything from Sugar. No leak sites or data dumps. No sign of it anywhere.” I shake my head. “Right now, far as I can tell, the breach is just a rumor.”
“You think that little bastard made it up?”
“He might have. I plan to find out.”
“I know you believe there’s someone on the inside—”
“There often is.”
“But my employees are not like that. I trust them. Totally.”
“I’ll figure it out, Dorothy. And I’ll keep it under wraps until I’m sure.” I suppress a yawn. “No one will guess what I’m doing at Sugar.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Just doing my job.”
“You could’ve gotten a lot more for the office space. I know that.”
“I wanted to fill it.”
“Grant.” Her mom voice shuts me right up. “In twenty-one days, everything I’ve built could come crashing down because of that parasite my daughter married.”
I nod.
“What you’re doing is more than just a job. More than renting out an empty office. You’re saving my ass.”
“Don’t worry, Dorothy. I’ll fix it.” I shove open the door and head inside, grab a beer, and settle in for a long night of work, hoping to god I can keep my promise.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rae
ISTARE AT THEsheet of paper waiting for me dead center on my desk. For a handful of seconds, I think Sam’s done this as some sort of practical joke. She’s always messing around, so it makes sense, except Sam would have made it about picking boogers and, I don’t know, naked things. Also, Sam doesn’t know about Grant’s link to the club and, now, to me. At least I haven’t mentioned it.
“What a prick.”
No touching?Touching?Really? Have I even touched him once? Nope. I don’t believe I have. In fact, he is the one who’s done all the touching in our short-lived clustershart of an acquaintance.
I set down the box of cupcakes I baked last night and pick up Grant’s list of demands, my hands visibly shaking.
OFFICE RULES
NO TOUCHING.
DOOR MUST ALWAYS REMAIN OPEN DURING CO-OCCUPATION.
CLUB IS OFF-LIMITS.
I’m about to crumple it when I hear the beep of a key card activating the exterior door. My entire body freezes.
I came in early today to prep for a benefits meeting with the department heads. Actually, I’d planned to come in at 7:00 a.m., but I hit snooze twice and finished frosting the cupcakes and changed my top three times, what with that mortifying wet T-shirt moment cycling through my brain on repeat all night. Then I had to swing by Hannah’s to bring her emergency diapers and make sure Otty got up for her breakfast shift, so 7:00 a.m. turned into 7:30 a.m., which, when I looked at my phone on the way upstairs, had somehow magically transmogrified into one minute to 8:00 a.m., since literal time is against me and I’ve never, ever, not once in my entire life managed to be early for anything.
Which means the meeting’s starting… crap. Now!
I’m about to chuck Grant’s pathetic one-sheeter into the trash when he appears in the doorway, freezing me in place.
