Page 122 of Hacking His Code
“I thought you had your heart set on hunting criminals,” Hunter says. “I don’t want anything derailing your interests. I want you to do something you love.”
Remi quirks a brow. “Hunting criminals?”
“Remember what I got busted for?” I say sheepishly. “Well, I kind of want to take that to the next level.”
“And with my help, you can,” Jim interjects. “Legally.”
“So I can do both?”
“Let’s not overwhelm yourself,” Hunter says, glaring at Jim. “You are several months pregnant.”
“She can set her own hours,” Jim insists. “Any amount of time she can spare would be valuable to the cause.”
Hunter looks hesitantly. “What do you say?”
“I can’t wait!”
“Well, there is just one minor, incy wincy thing you have to do first,” Jim says.
“And what is that?” I ask with an arched brow.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Really. Just a small test that I need you to pass in order to get you in.”
“And if I fail, am I off the project?”
“Yep,” Jim says.
“Just tell me where and when the test is, and I’ll be there.”
Jim pulls a laptop from his briefcase. “It’s here and now.”
I look around at the room full of people, all interested in what I’m doing.
“I’d like some privacy.”
“You work better without people around?” Jim says, and before I can answer, he continues with, “Let’s see how you work under a bit of stress then.”
The room grows smaller as the crowd gathers even tighter around me.
Annoyed, I log into the mainframe. “Where do I find this little test?”
Jim hands me a piece of paper that gives me coordinates to begin.
It doesn’t take long for me to locate a folder that reveals my next stop, and for the next thirty minutes, I’m maneuvering in and out of highly-secured sites. The world around me falls away. I could be alone or in a room with a thousand people; it matters not. All that exists is the screen.
Finally, I reach the final portion of the test—one last folder titled: Arinessa.
I click on it, and a box comes up asking for a password with one clue: Winner Winner!
What do we have here?
I type in: ChickenDinner, and click enter. The file opens, and inside is a single word document. I open it, finding one line of text:
Arinessa, will you marry me?
I look up to see the same room full of people looking down at me with glistening eyes, and to my left, Hunter is down on one knee, ring box in hand.
My arms fly out and wrap around his neck, completely disregarding the ring box.
