Page 11 of Unspoken Promises

He folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “I’d like you to present your findings to our security and developer team.”

Reading the piece of paper he printed with my three-line job description, I can’t help the dry laugh that escapes. “My whole job, for three months, is to do a PowerPoint for your cybersecurity team?”

Somehow, his silence is an affirmative.

I’m borderline insulted. I know I’m young, but cybersecurity is my life’s work as much as it is Enzo’s. I’m proud of my abilities, and why the hell would he hold a hacking contest to find someone with my skills then not have me do something… well, integral to the business? Plus… how am I supposed to show this man he can trust me if I’m doing admin? I need to get in the weeds.

“I thought I’d have a role in cybersecurity or infrastructure… development even…” I lift the paper. “I get you want me to tell other people what I’ve done but…” They’remymethods.Myintellectual property. “This isn’t what I wanted from this job.”

He stands, indicating this meeting is adjourned. “And I didn’t expect you here today yet somehow I coped.”

I pop out of my seat, too. “We can do the rest of the meeting standing, but I’m not teaching your people my code. Not without more than three months here as a promise.”

As soon as my impulse fills the room I want to claw it back. I’m screwed if he sends me packing. Thankfully, he doesn’t.

“I don’t make promises, Ava. And as I’ve seen it, you won the contest, I fulfilled my commitment, and now we’re at level pegging. Put what you want in the presentation. Make it valuable. That’s the job.”

He picks my bag off the floor, slings it over his shoulder, and takes a step toward the door, ending this meeting for the second time.

I bite back my annoyance, barely. “Enzo, I get that me teaching is valuable but I guarantee I’d be a hell of a lot more useful working on actual criminal activity.”

I try not to get worked up but I had visions of doing great things. I thought GhostEye was my life’s purpose, and this feels like being relegated from the A-team. “I cut through your security. You and I both know that’s one hell of a big deal. If you give me something bigger, I could help this company save lives.”

“The job is to present to the team.” He deadpans. “Am I taking you to your accommodation or to the gate?”

And there it is.

The most powerful negotiation tool isn’t silence. It’s not giving a shit.

I need Enzo. But he doesn’t need me.

5

“You know,”my twin’s head is stuck in the fridge looking for something cold to drink, “it’s ironic we have a ghost working at GhostEye.”

I wondered how long it would take Rio to find out about Ava’s scant identity. I glance at my watch. Thirty-four hours. Ava Scott has been living in the house next door for thirty-four hours.

She hasn’t left once. I’m watching her a bit harder than I should. I wonder how long I’ll be able to blame it on suspicion. She sure wasn’t what I expected from the winner to say the least. There weren’t any women looking like her in my collegeprogram.

Which has nothing to do with anything. Still. I noticed.

Considering the woman arrived here with little to her name, I started worrying about her this morning after checking the security cameras and noticing she never left to get food. I know she doesn’t have a car but I informed her the guards would arrange one any time. I was in meetings the rest of the day so I instructed the guard delivering her work supplies to ask if she needed anything.

She said she had everything. It must be some sort of Mary Poppins backpack she has.

Rio pulls his tall ass out of my fridge empty-handed. “You don’t have anything but kombucha in there.”

“My body is a temple.”

“Tequila?”

“Of course.”

I don’t point out the second lot of irony between us as I grab my favorite bottle of reposado from a cupboard that’s otherwise bare and pour two out. I need one, too.

I didn’t sleep last night with Ava next door. Something is wrong, and it’s not just the shit Rio is about to bring up. My brother is here because he knows all the same things I do about this woman by now. But he didn’t sit in a room with her. He didn’t feel the uncertain energy rolling off Ava’s body, and if he did, he’d have stormed in here like a bat out of hell not a man thirsty after a long drive back from the city.

It’s unfair sometimes that I leave the schmoozing and in-person meetings to Rio. He hates the city as much as I do but he’s better at hiding it. He’s better at pretending he likes it even—the golf days, the dinners of caviar. The suits fit him so well it appears he enjoys wearing them. But he only breathes when he comes back here. He’s happier, just like I am, in a pair of dusty jeans rather than dress pants. Hedoesn’t trust anyone but his family and the animals. Something besides our features we have in common.

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