Page 122 of Pack of Crooks
“Maybe you should have,” Samantha says with a sneer. “I bet if you sucked Tristan’s instead of licking pussy, he would have let you keep your job.”
“Listen here, you little bitch,” I growl, halfway to her desk before a pointed throat clearing stops me in my tracks.
“Hazel. Go to your office,” Ellen says.
“Yes, ma’am.” I shoot Vivian one last look, hating how her bottom lip trembles.
“Now,” Ellen demands. Her bark is strong. It makes me shift away from Vivian even though I don’t want to.
Narrowing my eyes, I let her see just how much I think she sucks. She can’t fire me without Tristan’s approval, and as much as it sickens me, I bet he wants to keep me around. “Call me later, Vivian.”
Ellen’s glare shifts from me to Samantha. “Pack your shit. You’re fired.”
“You can’t do that,” Samantha screeches.
“I can and I did. You have five minutes before security arrives, and trust me, you don’t want them to toss you out.” Without looking at Vivian, Ellen turns and storms back into her office, slamming the door.
“What a bitch!” Samantha growls.
At least on that, Samantha and I are in agreement. Fuck Ellen.
Tristan never comes back. By the time that meeting of his rolls around, I’ve worked up the confidence to cross the office and take a seat behind his desk. The computer is sleeping but wakes up when I click on the keyboard and insert the password cracker.
The minutes tick by as the program runs through possible combinations of words and letters. Pulse racing, I eye the door, terrified someone might come in and go over my story.
Tristan wanted documents from his computer. Asked me to send them to him. The password cracker window flashes green three times. KinGKaiN123!
“What a fucking megalomaniac,” I mutter, shaking my head and keying in the password. I swap out the password cracker for the virus, navigating to the drives and opening the USB. A new window appears, and then a few more, the desktop flickers, and then the virus starts to load.
Ellen pushes through the door. “Since you’re back. . .” Her eyes narrow, and she pauses with her hand on the door. “You’re not Tristan.”
“He asked me to send him some documents,” I say with a smile. “Can I help you with something?” Rising, I walk around the desk and stand in front of the computer.
Ellen tips her head, steps inside, and shuts us in together. “What documents did he want?”
My breath catches.Keep it together, Hazel. “The quarterly slides for the Board of Managers.”
She hums. “Those are on the shared drive. You could have gotten them from your own computer.”
Shit. She’s right.
“He also wanted a file on Infinity. He saved it on his desktop.” I make a face. “Rookie mistake.”
Ellen simply stares at me. “Is that so?”
“Yup.” I clear my throat. “Is there something you need?”
Ellen surges forward and catches my arm before I can put the desk between us. “What are you up to, Hazel?”
My heart slams against my ribcage. She doesn’t know anything. She’s on Tristan’s shit list. “Like I said,” I tellher, pinching my eyebrows together in mock confusion. “Is everything okay?”
“Vivian is mine,” she says, voice low and rough.
I scoff. “Is that why you broke up with her?” I snap, wrenching my arm out of her hold.
“Watch it,” she warns.
You know what? Fuck being professional. She hurt my friend, and I’m pretty over this corporation and how all the executives walk around like their shit doesn’t stink.
