Page 14 of The Refusal

“Is Jo with you? They told me she’s at the conference I think you’re at.” The slightly brusque tone to his voice makes my spine snap straight.

I smile at the people surrounding me and move away to try and find a quieter spot, looking out over the sea of heads. Where is she?

“She’s here. I’ll need to find her. What’s up?”

“Someone has had another go at the system. They didn’t get through, but Jo has put some stuff in place to alert us whenever anyone tries and track them, too. I just need to talk to her about it.”

“Fuck, okay. Damn.” My mind grapples around the edge of the problem as I push my way through the hordes of people, then I catch a flash of red hair. “I’ve found her, Matt. Hang on.”

I fight my way through the crowd, my earlier sourness bubbling up again; dammit she’ssurroundedby guys. I tap Jo on the shoulder, and she turns around, and I feel ten feet tall when her face dissolves into gratitude. My insides do a strange wobble.

“Hey, Janus.”

I gesture at my phone, handing it over to her, and she leans toward me, the sweet scent of lemon and soap drifting up.

“I’ve got Matt on the line for you,” I say.

And God bless Jo Williams—she’s the consummate professional. She turns to the men behind her and makes our excuses as she grabs my elbow.

“Matt. Let me find somewhere quieter,” she says into the phone as a good-looking guy says loudly, “Has Janus Industries got security problems?”

It’s a harsh reminder of how this could all blow up, but I’m too busy following Jo to do anything more than glower at him over my shoulder as I follow her across the plush brown carpet into the main auditorium. Her voice echoes in the dark emptiness as she sinks into the nearest seat and I ease into the row in front of her, idly watching as a couple of guys on stage fiddle with the microphones for the talks after the break. She’s so calm, I can almost sense Matt subsiding on the other end. She eventually hands my phone back to me with a smile.

“Hey, Matt.”

“Thanks, Janus, we’re all good. I’ll see you later.” The edge has disappeared from his voice, and he almost sounds embarrassed. I want to tell him he shouldn’t be, that she has the same effect on me. But he hangs up, so I grin at Jo, pocketing my phone.

“How come you’re always so calm?” I say.

She looks away, chewing her lip. “My mom suffered from depression and died from an overdose when I was eight. I’m calm because I feel like I looked into the abyss and nothing will ever be quite that bad again.”

What?I can’t believe she’s just come out with something like that so bluntly. I gape at her.

“Jesus, Jo, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

She nods and swallows. “I don’t think she actually meant to kill herself. She just felt so bad and didn’t know what to do with it. It was a long time ago.”

I’m beginning to realize Jo’s a wide-open book. “I feel like an asshole for asking …”

She gives me a wobbly smile, interrupting. “No, it’s me. I have a bit of a tendency to open my mouth and blarrgh”—she makes a hand action for words spilling out of her mouth—“out it all comes. As I think you’ve seen before.” She grins then nudges me with her hand. “Sorry for just coming out with that.”

I laugh. “Don’t apologize. I like how open and upfront you are.”

And I watch as a blush stains her cheeks, so I gesture at the phone in an attempt to change the subject and save us from the awkward silence we’ve descended into.

“Do I need to be worried?”

I can almost see her pulling herself together as she straightens. She shakes her head. “They’ve tried again, which isn’t unusual. They’re testing your system, and it looks like they stopped when they realized they were being tracked. If they’re serious, they’ll probably bypass my surveillance quite quickly. I’ll ask someone at the office to sort out a different tracking mechanism.”

She’s already tapping into her screen as she talks. “The upside is there should be some data we can dive into. Matt’s going to dig into it with James to see whether we can find out anything. If they’ve been careless, we might find clues as to who they are.”

I nod. “Sounds good. I appreciate what you’re doing.” Ugh, that sounded so stiff. “I liked your talk.”

“Oh, thanks, I was so nervous!” The rose blush I like so much blooms on her cheeks, and she tucks a red curl behind her ear: I want to reach out and twist it around my finger. I examine the pink lips, the dusting of freckles, her turned-up nose. The color on her face grows. What were we talking about?

“You didn’t come across that way at all,” I manage.

“Thanks, that makes me feel much better.” Her eyes track across my face, and I wonder whether the fact I spent all night on a plane shows. Her next words confirm it.

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