Page 31 of Moonlighter
Gunnar grins. “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“Okay.”
“Do me a favor, though? Email me or Max with the list of meetings you’re taking. We need to take a second look at those business connections. Oh, and if you turned down any requests for meetings, we want those, too.”
“Sure.” Although it won’t be easy to remember who had asked me for a meeting. “I’ll check with my assistant. I’m sure we rebuffed a few suppliers who weren’t up for consideration.”
“Consideration for what?” Eric asks.
“Making the new hardware for my product launch. It’s a sophisticated home network system—both a router and a smart speaker rolled together.”
“With Bingley?” he asks.
“Exactly. We’re buying a lot of components for delivery in October. Chips. Motherboards. Housing. High-end speakers.”
“Your wallet is open,” Gunnar points out. “That makes you interesting to half the people at the conference.”
“Interesting enough for industrial espionage?” Eric asks.
“Absolutely,” Gunnar agrees cheerfully. “Industrial espionage is as common as brushing and flossing at these things.”
It’s true, but I never used to worry very much. It’s weird how my pregnancy has shifted my focus. I’m more afraid of everything right now. Although I’m more afraid of Jared than I am of corporate spies.
“Tomorrow is the cocktail party, right?” Pieter asks.
“I could skip it,” I offer.
Gunnar shakes his head. “You carry on with whatever you had planned. Nobody’s going to get into your room again. And nobody is going to hurt you. You’ll have lots of coverage, okay?”
Pieter pulls two key cards out of his pocket. There are initials written on them in Sharpie: anAand anE. “Take these. We had the lock recoded. The housekeepers’ key cards won’t work on that door any longer. The hotel won’t send anyone to your room without your express permission.”
“I don’t need housekeeping, anyway.”
“Fine. And now we’ll receive an automated text anytime your room door is opened with a key card. If it’s either of your key cards, we’ll match the location of your phones to the room. If it’s not your key card, we’ll come running.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling a little sturdier already. There are three strapping, intelligent men here to protect me, after all. “That ought to cover it.”
“We tried moving you to a different room, but the hotel is full.”
I could have told them that. “I’ll be fine. He won’t come back, right? He’ll realize that his bug failed immediately, and that we’re stepping up the security.”
“That’s right,” Gunnar says. “Chin up. And text me or call me at any moment.”
“Will do.” I give him a calm smile. Putting others at ease is something I learned to do at an early age. Some days it’s more useful than my double masters degrees.
Then he and Pieter depart, leaving Eric and I on the terrace together. “Now what?” Eric asks. “Want me to make a dinner reservation? Or would you rather have room service and television?”
“I like the second option. I’m still jet-lagged,” I say by way of an excuse. But the truth is that I just don’t feel like making myself visible right now. That video shook me up more than I care to admit. The sight of a stranger so casually breaking in to snoop gives me the willies.
“Fine. A nap sounds good to me right now. Will it bum you out if I fall asleep? We could put the alarm on the door.”
“I’ll be fine,” I lie. “But let’s look at that alarm anyway.”
Back inside the room, we hang the alarm by its strap over the hotel room door. The device is plastic, and bright orange. It looks like a child’s toy. I press its only button, and a light winks on.
Then, as a test, Eric turns the door handle to open the door.
An ear splitting shriek rends my ears, and I push that button again as fast as I can get to it. The return of silence is a huge relief.
