Engaging my voice recorder, I lean back in my chair. “I’m the owner of Second Sight, Ms…?”
“Oh. I’m so sorry. Evianna Archer. I was told you…Second Sight…could help me when the police…can’t.”
Something in her tone raises the hairs on the back of my neck. “Are you in danger, Ms. Archer?”
“No. Um…maybe? I don’t think it’ll come to that. Not really. Kyle’s a kid. I always thought he was harmless. But…” She draws in a shaky breath, then pauses for so long, I’m about to ask her if she’s okay. “I shouldn’t have called. This is silly. I mean…what are you going to do? Threaten the kid and tell him to stay away from me?”
“That can be effective. I take it you have a stalker?”
“Yes. One of my former employees. I fired him a few days ago, and he hasn’t handled it well.”
“Ms. Archer, stalking can range from mostly harmless to deadly. There’s every chance yours is one of the harmless ones, but come to our office and meet with me and Mr. Lawton—Ford. Bring your police reports and any evidence you’ve collected. Consultation is free. If we think you have cause to worry, we’ll tell you. If not, you’ve only lost an hour.” Something in this woman’s voice drives me to reassure her. To get her in here.
“Um, okay. Thank you for not…I don’t know. For not laughing at me.”
A burst of anger punches me in the solar plexus. This country’s stalking laws are shit, and the police, for all the good they want to do, have their hands tied. “That’s not what we do here. Ever. I’ll need to send you back to Marjorie for scheduling. She’s the only one who has access to everyone’s calendar. But before I transfer you, I need to ask you to do something.”
Evianna sucks in a shaky breath. “All right.”
“Even though the police can’t do much in these cases, if you feel in danger or threatened at any time before we meet, call 911. Can you do that?”
“I’m at work. We have excellent security. But…yes. If anything happens, I’ll call them. Thank you, Mr. Holloway.”
“Dax. You can call me Dax. I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Archer. Be safe.”
Evianna
My hand shakes as I hang up the phone. But I have an appointment at Second Sight in an hour. I can do this. With another cup of coffee. Snagging my mug from the corner of my desk, I head for the coffee machine in the office’s small kitchen.
“Hi, Barry,” I say as our newly promoted lead programmer shuts the fridge door and turns with a can of Mountain Dew in his hand. “What’s the mood out there today?”
He scowls. “You have to ask?”
My brows furrow and I take a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Advancing close enough so I have to crane my neck to stare up at him, he gestures to the bullpen—and the very empty desk where Kyle used to sit. “You fired our lead, Ms. Archer. A month before launch. Sonia stayed until midnight last night. Parvin didn’t go home at all.”
“We’re close, Barry. I know this was a hard blow, but—”
“A blow? You really don’t get it, do you? Kyle understood what it means to code. How our minds work.”
Bristling, I slam my cup down on the counter. “Watch your tone, Barry. I paid my dues in this industry. Alfie started from my code. You want to compare script success rates?”
“Bullshit. I’d win. Every time. You’re only here because Mr. Goset needed a pretty face who could speak the language.”
I swallow hard and school my face into a mask of calm. I can’t let him bait me like this. I’m the boss. I need to set an example. And if I lose my shit now, I’ll only confirm his prejudices. “You’re walking a dangerous line,” I lower my voice even more. “Noah may have hired you three months before me, but I’m still your boss. While firing you would put us behind, I won’t tolerate disrespect. From anyone or towards anyone. Get back to work. Now.”
Sinking back against the counter when he stalks back to the bullpen, I blow out a breath. A pretty face. My whole career, I’ve fought against that stereotype. Doing everything I can to hide my curves. Working harder and longer than all the men around me.
And yet, one comment can still send me back to my first job, where the lead developer backed me into a corner and threatened to fire me if I didn’t start…playing nice.
Coffee splashes onto the counter as I fill my mug, and I swallow the sob trying to escape. Get yourself together, Evianna. You’re the CIO for fuck’s sake. And once Alfie’s released, maybe it’ll be…enough. Maybe you’ll finally feel like…enough.
My hair’s a mess, dark brown tendrils escaping my french braid as I rush into the six-story office building only a few blocks from Beacon Hill Technologies and scan the directory for Second Sight.
Once I’m on the elevator, I force out a deep breath and take a moment to compose myself, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear, smoothing my pencil skirt, and stilling my trembling hands.
I can do this.
