Page 47 of Matteo

“Another way?”

“A hidden access route.” She meets my gaze. “A backdoor.”

“That's a hell of a claim, Elizabeth.”

She taps her notebook. “I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I'm ninety-eight percent sure.”

This sounds serious, so I get up and shut the door, before leaning against the edge of my desk, and note how she's sitting, legs crossed, her notebook resting on her lap. Eyes down, flicking through her notes.

She says something about needing to be sure, but all I can do is see how she's holding her pen, how that little sliver of lilac still streaks her hair. When she wears it in a ponytail, I can’t help but note how long her slender neck is. A neck I see myself planting delicate kisses on.

“It's just so odd...” she says, letting out a heavy breath,

What's odd is that she has no idea of what's going through my head. I pull myself back to the present, and that's when her eyes flick to mine. I immediately lose focus again. Then force my mind, once more, to concentrate on the issue, when I suddenly see a sight that makes me even sicker to my stomach.

The old man.

He’s hovering just outside the door, looking in, watching. Our eyes meet and he walks in like he fucking owns the place. Which, technically, maybe he does. He was never going to knock and ask for my permission to come in. He walks right in.

“Ah. The very person I wanted to see,” he says to the back of Elizabeth's head. She startles at the sound of his voice and turns around in her chair.

“Elizabeth,” he says, barely looking at me. “Sorry I canceled on you last week. I thought I’d come down here to see how you’re getting on.”

“I’m … I’m good, thank you,” she answers, then glances at me. Her eyes asking: what do I tell him?

“As you can see, we’re in a meeting,” I say, standing up now. What is he doing down here? He’s only been down to the tech lab once in all the time I've been here. I’m starting to wonder if he thinks I have something to do with the security issues. It’s not outside the realm of possibility. Nothing is, where this man is concerned.

“I won’t take up too much time,” he replies, not even bothering to look at me. “Found anything yet?” he asks, hands in his pockets, his manner smooth and polished.

Elizabeth shifts in her chair, turning it around so that she can face him. “Nothing to report as yet. I’m making progress, but it's slow.”

Nothing to report as yet?

She's not telling him.

I wonder if she’s holding back on purpose? Does she also not trust him?

The old man clears his throat. “We've been sitting on this for months—”

“It hasn’t been months,” I snap. “It's been maybe just over a month, but we've been looking into it.”

“Could have fooled me.” His eyes twinkle as he says it. Whenever this man opens his mouth it’s always to make someone feel small, or worse. He’s never been complimentary, or constructive in his criticism.

I fist my hands inside my pockets. “Then maybe I have fooled you.”

The old man chuckles. “See what I’m dealing with, Elizabeth?”

There is no love lost between us.

“We’re working on it.” I grit out, teeth clenched.

“I need you to get this sorted and fast, Matteo.”

What the fuck does he think I’m doing? “She’s your consultant. You hired her, why don’t you tell her what you want done?”

Elizabeth’s expression changes. She looks visibly hurt by my words. It was a low blow. One I shouldn’t have struck. In sniping back at my old man, I've taken my anger out on Elizabeth. She’s not the one to blame here.

He turns to Elizabeth. “I hope you're making progress, no matter how slow.” He opens the door and leaves.