Page 2 of Tied

“I’m sorry,” I hurry to apologize. “Green tea would be fine.”

“Green tea. Got it.” The girl forces a smile at me before she turns on her heels and walks away.

I let out a deep sigh. “Okay, Riley, calm the fuck down and get to work.”

The words come out as little more than a low hiss. I produce my laptop from the messenger bag and flip it open. I manage to redirect my attention from worrying about my surroundings to focusing on the task at hand. Hacking a protected Wi-Fi access is child’s play for someone like me—or it should be. I’m sure there’s going to be a hitch somewhere. There must be a reason why they asked me to do this here, at this specific coffeehouse located way out in the suburbs. I’ve never been in this area before and it took me more than an hour to get here. It would have been a lot faster if I could drive, but since I don’t have either a license or a car, or even the money for a long cab ride, my only choice was public transportation. I hate being poor, and I seriously hope this job will get me out of this shitty situation for good.

I take a quick glance over my shoulder just in time to see the waitress approaching. She is carrying a tiny tray with a mug of hot water and a massive tea bag on a small plate next to it. She places both items on the counter next to my laptop.

“Honey or sugar?”

Her voice is so high that it almost hurts my ears.

I shake my head, adopting a polite smile and willing her to disappear. I can’t start as long as she—or anyone else—is in my vicinity. She senses my aversion to company and turns away without another word. Thank God.

My pulse speeds with excitement, a delicious rush of adrenaline that’s been fueling me all the way here. I received the e-mail with my instructions this morning, including a clearly set time schedule. I was given exactly one hour to hack into the Wi-Fi access called INSOMNIACAFE and make a follow-up video Skype call to an account shared in that same e-mail. I don’t know what to expect with this call, but since I’m assuming that it will be the next step of the actual job interview process, I made sure to wear my most business-like outfit.

I’m confident that I won’t need the full hour to hack into the Wi-Fi, but I hurry nonetheless. This is my chance to shine if I manage to break their security wall in record time.

I’m almost disappointed to discover that there appear to be no catches: no extra security, no hidden wall, no hoops to jump through.

Nothing. It's just a regular, password-protected Wi-Fi with a WPS 2 security set-up that is so easy to circumvent that it's downright appalling.

It only takes me a few minutes to gain access, and while it gives me a shallow wave of satisfaction to know that I'm the only unauthorized person in here who's now logged into the coffeehouse's Wi-Fi, I am confused and can't help but wonder what this was all about.

Was this it? Are their expectations of me really that low?

Would I even want to work for an agency with such low standards and expectations?

I shake my head and take a sip from my tea, pushing these thoughts aside. I shouldn't make rash assumptions and let my arrogance be the judge. It's just a first step, after all. Who knows what comes next?

I have to take a deep breath before I'm ready for the next step.

The call.

My eyes trail back over my shoulder, though I still don't know what–or who–I'm looking for. Anyone in here could be working for them. Anyone in here could be watching me and just diverting their gaze as soon as I turn around. I would never know.

In the end, all I can do is make sure that there's no one standing right behind me, peering over my shoulder and breathing down my neck. I wouldn’t be able to tolerate that.

My back is clear. Of course.

“No more excuses,” I whisper to myself as I turn back to my screen.

I fix my hair. I adjust the collar of my shirt for the umpteenth time.

I fix everything there is to fix about myself before I take one last deep breath.

Then I hit the little camera icon to make the call.

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