Page 97 of Summer People
The second we’re inside, Beckett Langfield stands and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, if it isn’t the bane of my existence.”
Next to him, Cortney Miller, the Revs’ general manager, chuckles. “Aren’t we dramatic today?”
Beckett, clad in his pin-striped double zero Revs jersey, whirls on his best friend. “Not even close, Man Bun. And I haven’t forgiven you for hiring this guy. People are still talking about the purple picture he sent to the entire organization.”
The deeper his scowl, the bigger my smile. Damn, I love riling him up.
“You really did look like a giant grape.” Cortney smirks.
I’ve done work for Cortney’s family over the years, and after one of Cortney’s interns clicked a link he shouldn’t have, he called me to run checks on the Langfield Corp system.
“I’m not the one who made the bet with him.” Cortney, the calmer of the duo, rolls his eyes as he steps behind him.
“What?” Libby, who’s been silent beside me, finally chimes in.
“This one”—Beckett thumbs over at the blond six-foot-six giant towering over him—“hired your guy to do a network security check.” He frowns. “That I didn’t think we needed. So I made a bet that he couldn’t hack into our system.”
Cortney brings a fist to his mouth and chuckles. “Not only did Fisher get in, but he sent the entire company a photo of Beckett from back when the kids and I put purple dye in his soap and turned him into an eggplant for two days.”
“We got you back good, though. Your face when your car started burping bubbles was priceless.” Beckett laughs.
“Not so priceless, really, after the cost to fix it,” Cortney grumbles.
These two are something else. Though if I’d understood their dynamic beforehand, I might have turned down the job. The two of them have been blowing up my phone nonstop for weeks. Apparently they like me enough to have created a group chat between the three of us.
“Make yourself at home, but I’ll be watching you.” Beckett puts two fingers to his eyes and then points at me.
Libby blinks up at me. “I’m so confused. Do people pay you to hack into their own stuff?”
“Wait…” Beckett squints at her, then me, arms crossed again. “You don’t know what he does? Is this a new relationship?” The way his voice lifts hopefully at the end is weird as fuck. Why is heso interested? From what I dug up about him online, the guy is happily married.
“Oh, here we go.” Cortney flops back onto the sofa.
“He says he makes people crazy by ruining their days. And he mentioned hacking.” Libby shrugs. “I guess I didn’t ask many questions. All I really see is the work he does as the island sheriff.”
I sigh. Libby should probably know the truth. “I’m a network security specialist. People hire me to find the weak spots or holes in their firewalls and to upgrade their systems.”
Cortney snorts. “He created the best software in the industry. He works with 90 percent of the financial community, half the airlines, and a handful of your big ten. The guy’s a computer genius.”
I pull at my neck to relieve the unease growing inside me. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would. And I need to know, is this a first date?” Grumpy Beckett has vanished. I swear the man is almost giddy now. “A first date because of my bet?” He claps his hands. “I am the ultimate matchmaker.”
I scoff, at a loss for how to respond to the nonsense he’s spewing.
Cortney angles forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Let him have it. Trust me, it’s easier than arguing about it.”
“Hey, Man Bun, you can’t complain. I found you the perfect wife.”
The blond holds up both enormous hands. “I have zero complaints about Dylan.”
As the two men bicker back and forth, Libby looks up at me. “They’re a lot, but I kinda like them.”
Head hung, I sigh. “At least one of us does.”
After two innings, my head is about to explode. The guys have yet to shut up. Libby, my hero, suggests we sit in the open-air seats for a while. God, I love the woman. Even the humid August air is refreshing after so much time stuck listening to their never-ending conversation.
“This is fun,” Libby says as we sit hand in hand.
