“What is it?” I ask.
“Kate told Tammy we were back. And Tammy told everyone. Mace organized something for my birthday weekend back then, but that obviously fell flat. And now they’re all harassing me to take me out for a late birthday party.”
Ah. I can hear how much she wishes she could say yes, and I’m aware of how much she missed her friends while we were away. I can’t relate much, but this is important to her. And if she refuses, they’ll surely worry and raise questions neither of us can answer. She should probably accept, but it poses a security problem.
“You can’t do that,” I remind her.
“I know.”
“Going out there would be too unpredictable.”
“I know.”
“And dangerous.”
“Lex, I know,” she repeats, growing annoyed.
“But you could do it here.”
“Alexander, I kn—Wait, what?”
“Have it here,” I say, motioning at the vast open space. “We can hire a mixologist for the drinks, a DJ if you want, or you and your friends could have a movie night… anything, really. There’s enough room for it.”
“Are you serious? You’d let your personal space be invaded like that? And by your employees.”
“Ex-employees. And it’s your space, too. Which makes me realize, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about hiring a moving company to pack the rest of your stuff from your old place and bring it all here.”
She doesn’t answer right away, still dazed by my offer, looking around at the room. “Are you seriously okay with that?”
“With moving your things here?”
“With hosting a party or something.”
“Yes.”
Her skeptical hesitation turns into a luminous smile when she understands I mean it. She wants to see her friends, and while I’m not letting her put herself in danger by going out of this apartment, I have no qualms with them coming here. I’ve kept her away for two months, having her all to myself. I can share her for an evening.
“Thank you,” she practically shouts with effusive joy, dancing on her chair.
“At the very worst, I’ll lock myself up in my office and let you have your fun,” I explain.
“And at the very best?”
“I’ll take part and have a few drinks, or you’ll pay me a visit so I can show you another kind of good time.”
“I think my impulsiveness is rubbing off on you, Coleman.”
“I think it might be, yes. Any objections?”
“No, I love seeing it.”
The small concession earns me a quick peck on the cheek before she grabs her phone to text her friend back. “I’ll see with Mace if he’s okay with that, and let him warn everyone.”
She’s still grinning by the time we return to work after cleaning up our lunch.
We work together all afternoon, running tests and looking for a way to bypass whatever antivirus software will be installed. Our malware needs to be smart enough to raise no suspicion, or we risk alerting Becker and his team.
At some point, Andrea’s phone rings, and while I don’t have time to see who it is, she answers in Spanish with “Hola, mamá.” She steps out to allow me to keep working, which I do. When she returns about ten minutes later, she softly calls, “Baby?”
