Page 13 of Play the Game

He looked across the room. I followed his sightline.

“Jack Pasco?” I asked.

During Sunday’s briefing, Jason had shown us the man’s picture and told us Pasco would be the second-best hacker here. They had a long history of competing and had some bad blood between them.

“You specifically told us he won’t be a problem. He might be willing to take the money and job the Carbonados offer him and not care what they ask him to do, but for tonight, he won’t be an issue.”

“He won’t be,” Jason said. “Not in the way you think. It’s just that he’s so fucking annoying. I’m not looking forward to making his acquaintance again. He’s been laughing his ass off at my incarceration for the past three years.”

“Okay, this is where I remind you the incarceration was fake, and even that story’s over now. You’re officially paroled. You’ve been doing important work, accomplishing things that asshole can’t even imagine, and he’s not part of our mission, unless and until the Carbonados sink their claws into him.”

“Thank you.”

“I do give good pep talks, don’t I?”

Jason shook his head. “Not really. I was thanking you for calling Pasco an asshole.” He shot me a grin. “Come on. Let’s bite the bullet. I’ll introduce you.”

The maturity Jason displayed in putting old grudges behind him gave me hope that the rest of the night would go smoothly. A few minutes later, that Pollyanna fantasy went to hell.

“Pasco,” Jason said as we approached the man’s entourage, which included five people who looked like they were teenagers, complete with one in braces and one very attractive, voluptuous, bleach-blonde woman in a black velvet evening gown.

“Little Jason Brooks!” Pasco said, obviously very impressed with himself for being approximately an inch taller than Jason. He glanced at the woman beside him. “One of my oldest buddies. You were what, thirteen when we first crossed paths?”

Jason bristled, but I knew it wasn’t about that inch. In the ninth grade, Jason had convinced his parents to let him rename himself after years of living in the glare of the spotlight that had been pointed at his parents during and after their divorce. The gossip rags had dragged their son’s name and image into the media glare, as well. Outside of HEAT and deeply buried government databases, the only people who would refer to Jason by his past surname were people who would have known him pre-high school.

“I bet none of you knew that about tonight’s superstar,” Pasco nearly shouted. If he hadn’t been about to compete for a big prize that would require all his wits, I would have thought he was drunk—he was so obnoxiously loud. “He’s the son of tech royalty! Unlike the rest of us self-taught, self-made peons.” He lowered his voice and grinned, showing too many teeth for the expression to be friendly. “And yet, the prince was the only one among us who ended up in prison.”

I’d pegged Pasco right when I’d called him an asshole.

“And who is this lovely creature accompanying our fine prince tonight?” Every word Pasco spoke ratcheted up my desire to punch him in the face.

“Stella,” I said, using the cover name that matched the fake online profile Alder had built for me. “And you’re sadly misinformed, Mr. Pasco.” I gazed adoringly at Jason. It was for show, but it wasn’t difficult to do. “I happen to know Jason Jensen is indeed both self-taught and self-made.” I grinned at Jason. “And those are only his least interesting qualities.”

“Thanks for noticing, darling,” Jason said. He pressed his hand to the small of my back, the way he had Friday night when we’d dressed up to go out, best friends on the town, looking for all the world like we were on a date. Now we were doing it again. We were making a bad habit of it, but it felt so good.

“Well, lucky you, with such a beautiful admirer,” Pasco said.

The blonde beside him shot him a nasty look, then sauntered away.

“She’ll be back,” Pasco said. “She can’t help herself. She loves me. Speaking of love,” he leaned toward me and lowered his voice, “your boyfriend here was head over heels with that woman, Mallory or something? Whatever happened to her?”

Jason tensed his jaw. I almost cringed for him, being unable to hide his pique when this asshole was so obviously trying to get a cheap rise out of him. “You know damn well her name was Melissa, and we were married.”

“Well, she was a beauty. Too bad that didn’t work out.” Pasco grinned and swept his eyes up and down my body, lingering way too long on parts that were none of his damn business. “Not for you, though, I suppose. You’re not the jealous type, I take it, if you can follow the love of his life.”

This guy was so over-the-top, I would have thought I was being punked if we weren’t up to our eyeballs in Carbonados goons. I literally laughed out loud. I couldn’t help myself.

“Wow.” I turned to Jason, laid my hand on his lapel, and leaned close to him. “I need another drink before your competition begins, darling.”

Jason, who’d started smiling when I’d laughed in Pasco’s face, kissed my cheek. “Anything for you.” He wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Can’t wait to see you in there,” Pasco said. “It’ll be just like old times. Ooh, except for the part where I beat the hell out of you.”

Jason grinned. “A boy can dream, I guess.”

We walked to the bar without another look in Pasco’s direction.

“What a piece of work,” I said. “Has he always been like that?”

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