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My brain spins and I sit forward. “If we know it’s from one of our email addresses, surely that’s everything we need? Whose email was it?”
“It’s been sent from one of our no-reply addresses rather than a specific person’s.”
“So whoever it was used our servers. It’s definitive.”
“Yes. If someone had done it from a personal work account, it would be easy to track. But it wasn’t. We know it was sent from within the building. It has one of our IP addresses, it’s from our network…but the IT guys can’t trace it to a specific computer.”
“Fuck.” I tip back the rest of my drink. “Can we at least tell who the information was sent to?”
“Someone at Sanderson Fitzpatrick.”
I blink at my brother, flicking through the Rolodex of clients in my brain. “We don’t deal with them.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Have they ever expressed an interest in working with us?”
“Not to my knowledge, no. I spoke to the CEO directly. They’re looking into it. They’re in the middle of a merger but he agreed to meet with me as soon as he has time. He said he’d make it a priority.”
“What a fucking mess. Do you have any gut feelings, Noah? What’s your hunch?”
My brother is one of those people who’s eerily intuitive. “Between you and me? Probably the same as your hunch.”
I run a hand over my jaw. “There’s only one person here that hates me enough to do something like this intentionally and out of spite. And believe me, the thought crossed my mind.” We both know I’m referring to Rylee. “But I don’t think she’d risk her career like this.”
“I don’t either. Either way, we have nothing yet that could pin it on her.”
I sigh deeply. “Go get some sleep. Thanks for handling this shitshow, Noah. I appreciate it.”
“Of course.” Noah drains his whiskey and runs his thumb along the cut-glass pattern. “So, are you going to see her again?”
I hesitate, but this is Noah. The brother who’s not only my most trustworthy ally, but also the one who knows more about me than a therapist would, if I had one. “No.”
“You should. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked this…” He waves a hand at me.
“This what?”
“Normal.”
“What do you mean, ‘normal’?”
“Like you just got laid really, really well and you’re finally thinking about something other than your job.”
Is it that obvious? I guess it is. “Yeah. It was a good night. We met at the bar and one thing led to another. The only problem is, when I woke up, the little minx was gone. And I don’t even know her fucking name. Or the name of her company. All I know is she’s originally from somewhere in Texas.”
Noah almost smiles, but it’s sympathetic. “Shit. How can you not know her name?”
“She had a Texan accent. I started calling her Tex and she never corrected me.”
My brother is highly entertained by my anguish. “What did she call you?”
I shake my head. “I’m not telling you that. Go home.”
“No way. You have to tell me. I’m your favorite brother. And you owe me one.”
I owe him a lot more than one. “Ace,” I admit.
Noah laughs. A real laugh, and it’s almost worth the humiliation. And the regret, that I was such a fucking idiot that I let her slip through my fingers.
