Page 75 of Matteo

It's late and Alex and Elizabeth have spent the last few hours trying to figure out how one of our senior analysts lost access to critical systems.

The permissions have been restored, but the cause remains a mystery.

According to the logs, nobody made the change. According to the analyst, they certainly didn't do it themselves.

Which leaves us with a problem.

Everyone else has gone home.

Alex gives me an apologetic look.

“Sorry. I can't stay late today, but Elizabeth is dealing with this.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow.”

My gaze shifts to Elizabeth. She's still at her desk, staring intently at her monitor, a slight frown pulling at her brow as she scrolls through lines of data.

“Found anything else?” I sidle up to her.

Our fingers brush, and before I can think better of it, I lace mine through hers.

“I’m still trying to figure out how the analyst lost those permissions,” she says. “The access has been restored, but there's no corresponding administrative change. It’s like someone flipped a switch and somehow left no trace behind.”

I squeeze her hand gently, loving the feel of her soft, warm skin against mine.

“What are we doing, Matteo?” she asks quietly, looking up at me.

“Damned if I know.”

Because I don't.

All I know is that I look for her the second I walk into a room. That I notice when she's tired. When she's worried. When she skips lunch. She doesn't belong in this world of billionaires and boardrooms any more than I do.

Her nose ring. Her lilac streaks. How strong and steely she is.

Everything about her.

“What are we doing?” she repeats.

I move her bangs away from her eyes. Then, because resisting her is becoming impossible, I let my fingers trail along her cheek before cupping the side of her face.

“Does it matter?” I ask softly.

A thrill shoots through me when she leans into my touch.

But she suddenly looks fearful. “What if someone sees?”

“Why are you so afraid of people being around?”

“Because you're my boss.”

“I don't care about that. Neither should you.”

She scoffs. “I do care, because this contract is important to me, but also, I don't want to be known as “the woman who slept her way in,” and in a male-dominated environment, my credibility is important to me.”

It hadn’t even occurred to me. I move away. “Jesus. Of course.” I swipe my hand across the back of my neck. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Men don’t have to.”