Page 12 of Perfect Order
“Are you sure?” I demand. The way her attitude keeps flipping and flopping is seriously beginning to worry me, but she hasn’t said the one thing guaranteed to make me stalk out the door of my office and to say the hell with everyone and everything. I know everything about Kylie because she can’t hide a damn thing from me. Our ridiculously traditional parents would wither away if they knew about the way her life has deviated from the girl who left New Hampshire to sing: the booze, the men, the photos of the drugs—which she swears was just a onetime thing.
Then again, it’s not like my life has followed a path of roses either. My eyes glance to the side, where I keep my system that can only be accessed with my retina scan and a fingerprint sequence. My own version of the old-fashioned children’s toy Simon. It’s just the kind of games I play on it are ridiculously dangerous.
“Listen, it’s not a big deal. Really, you won’t see this on any scandal sheet.”
I flat out ask, “Are you in trouble?” I wince as my watch vibrates with a text from the one man who can send a frisson of fear down my own spine.Are you on this, or do I need to send in a different team.Fuck, Kylie might not be, but I’ll have someone’s boot up my ass if I don’t get this numnutz out of my network.
She stands and reaches over to pick up her mug. “It’s nothing that won’t hold. Go deal with your bleeps and blips. And I promise not to fall asleep next week when you tell me about it.”
“You’d better not.”
“I love you, forever, Leanne,” she says.
“And I love you, Kylie. Always,” I vow. Pressing End on the call, I turn my full attention to the upper monitors and the jackass who thinks there’s a chance in hell of breaching my network.
Wrong. And unfortunately for them, by the end of the night, I’ll be turning all his information over to my new best buddies at the DoD—which will ultimately filter up to the man who controls many of my own movements. After all, I’m perfectly fine with being bad when there’s something good waiting for me at the end of it. Thus far, no feeling has given me the same excitement as beating another hacker at their own game. Well, I amend internally as I turn up my sister’s latest album, except for watching my sister onstage, accepting her first Grammy Award.
That’s the only thing that’s come close.
Saratoga Springs, N.Y.Castor has been awarded a $172 million prime task order by the Department of Defense to protect against cyberattacks.
—Castor Newsroom
My cell ringing is what wakes me the next morning. Without looking at the caller ID, I mumble, “Unless the server room is on fire, you know you can kiss my ass.”
My mother laughs. “I certainly will not.”
I roll over and manage to pry my eyes open. I didn’t stumble into my bed until close to dawn. “Hey, Mom. Did you just get off shift?”
“Hello, Leanne. No, honey. I wasn’t working last night. Your father and I were having breakfast before he went off to put in his orders for the stocks he wants to trade. That’s when he showed me an interesting tidbit in the local paper. I was calling to congratulate you on your new contract, but now I feel like I first need to lecture you about overworking.”
I yawn in her ear, even as I scooch into a sitting position. Dragging my tablet off my end table into my lap, I scroll through my company email to see if there’s anything urgent. “Just had a thing at work that ran late. I didn’t get home until dawn.”
“I don’t suppose I’m interrupting anyone who would actually be worshiping at the altar of your rear?” There’s a note of hopefulness that has me bursting into laughter.
“Gee, Mom. Way to be a bit obvious there. Why not ask me if I got sweaty in between the sheets with someone last night.”
“Because that’s so crass, darling.”
“Do you ever grill Kylie like this?” I grumble.
“No.” Just as I’m about to unload my feelings about that on our mother, she explains, “With her I have to come right out and ask because I never know if the press is making something out of nothing. Like this thing with her and Beckett Miller? I mean, honestly? While I have a ridiculous crush on him your father just can’t understand, the man could almostbeher father. And despite your best efforts to make her look like an angel, Leanne, I know my girls better than you think.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mom,” I reply airily.
“Uh-huh. You’re not doing her any favors.”
“More favors than you know,” I mutter under my breath.
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”
“Just that she favors you.” I think quickly on my feet, mentally congratulating myself for getting that one past my mother, but she goes on to say, “But she inherited my temperament at that age, which is why I know she’s likely causing a ruckus and you’re doing exactly what your father did.”
“Which is?”
“Doing everything possible to keep her hot mess express from hitting the newspapers.”
I can’t rein my laughter in. “What a way to speak about your youngest child.”
