Page 1 of Summer People
CHAPTER ONE
fisher
“I’ve already read two chapters.”I pop the bookmark intoMiracle on Maple Hilland set it on the nightstand next to the pink sphere my nine-year-old niece calls a moon lamp. Tucking the pink and white quilt around her little body, I say, “It’s bedtime, sweat pea.”
She should have been asleep thirty minutes ago. My job isn’t going to wait much longer. At this point I only have twenty minutes to get into the airline’s system and back out before I miss the deadline.
“Night, Fisher,” Sutton says as I pull her door shut.
With a long exhale, I hurry to my office. I’ve just slipped my headphones over my ears when Bing flops his big golden body down on my foot. My dog has been with me long enough to know that once the headphones are on, nothing short of banging his nose against my leg over and over will pull me out of the only place I’ve ever been truly comfortable.
I jiggle the mouse, and the computer comes alive. Time to move.
Eighteen minutes later, the three black boxes on my screens are full of green code. I’ve got it. The poor sixty-two-year-old mid-level IT idiot never stood a chance.
Not against someone like me.
I shake my head.
Thanks to the lax IT department and the network’s vulnerability to a blind command injection, I easily bypass the authenticator and run a command on the router.
Basically, I unlock it myself and step right in. Damn, I’m good at what I do.
I drop in a few lines of script so the bug will run. And it’s done. They’re officially fucked.
Once I’ve backed out, I sit back and toss my headphones onto the desk.
I may not be good at many things, but I’m damn good at this.
Me: It’s done.
CHAPTER TWO
libby
“The plane isbroken?”
The flight attendant forces a patronizing smile. “As the captain said, we’re having a maintenance issue, but the plane isnotbroken.”
“But I still have to get off?” I eye the champagne he’s holding. The champagne I ordered. I want that champagne. No, Ineedthat champagne. This is the beginning of my new life. At least it’s supposed to be. And yes, I’m aware that I haven’t yet left my old one. Nor can I just miraculously not bethe Elizabeth Sweet, especially at LAX, where I’m currently taxiing on the runway.
If we could just get in the air, things would be better.
Iwould be better.
I should have flown private like my dad suggested.
“Yes. We’re required to deplane because the person who approves maintenance concerns is on vacation.”
A hiccupping laugh escapes me. “That’s absurd.”
“Yeah, man, that’s crazy,” the guy across from me says.
The flight attendant locks his jaw and glares at me. I was the first to question this ridiculousness, but one by one, the passengers in first class are getting rowdy.
“You’re telling me a commercial airline doesn’t have a person on hand to approve a maintenance problem when the guy goes on vacation?” the man in front of me jeers.
“It’s actually a female,” the flight attendant says, chin lifted but eyes still narrowed to slits in my direction.
