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“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. After dropping you off at my place, I’ll go back out and get you some supplies—Imodium and Saltines and Gatorade and all that stuff.”
Perfect. When Hannah goes out, I’ll go in. To Greg Smith’s phone, that is. And then into his laptop and all other devices, which will surely be connected to his phone in some way.
“Thanks so much,” I say. “You’re the best.”
“Would you prefer chicken noodle or Won Ton soup?”
I’m pretty sure the Chinese place is farther away than wherever Hannah might go to get chicken noodle, so that’s what I request. The more time I can get to secure the bastard’s devices while she’s out, the better.
Aw, fuck.
I just realized my choice of cover story will probably preclude me from having sex with Hannah tonight. Well, that’s a damned shame. Oh well. It’ll be worth it, if I can finally infiltrate The Asshole and set myself up to exact appropriate revenge on him for the way he treated Hannah—and God knows how many others. In fact, I’d trade one sexless night to make sure I’ll be able to avenge my beloved Hannah every fucking time.
29
HENN
“I shouldn’t be gone more than two or three hours,” Hannah says. “I’m itching to get back home to start packing.” She’s heading out with her sister to run some errands, while I stay here in her apartment to help Josh with his proposal to Kat. Josh asked me not to jinx his big moment by telling anyone about it in real-time, not even Hannah, so I told her I’m staying behind to do some “time-sensitive online research” for Josh today.
After counting off the errands she’ll be running with Maddy this afternoon, Hannah asks, “Do you think you’ll be finished with Josh’s thing in time to have dinner with me around six?”
I glance at the time on my phone. Based on when Josh and Kat boarded that private jet, I should be hearing from Josh any minute now, and I can’t imagine the project will last all that long, once we get started. “Yeah, that should work.”
“Awesome,” Hannah says cheerfully. “Say hi to Josh for me.”
“Will do. Say hi to Maddy for me.”
“You’ll see her later. She’s coming back here to help me start packing.”
Hannah kisses my cheek, grabs her purse, and heads out, at which point I return to my laptop to make sure Josh’s target and the target’s wife are both still at their expected locations.
Since landing in Seattle almost two weeks ago, I haven’t felt much like working. Now that Hannah is unemployed, and I’m a multimillionaire who doesn’t actually need to work, I’ve been spending all my time hanging out with my girlfriend lately. In fact, the only times I’ve pulled out my computers since landing in Seattle, besides that one time I quickly hacked Greg Smith after the Climb & Conquer party, was to work on this job for Josh. But even then, I only worked on it when Hannah wasn’t around, like when she went to get her hair done or to her book club one night. I haven’t even felt the urge to poke around Greg Smith’s devices all that much yet.
That last thing is probably for the best, actually. Whenever I do start poking around Greg Smith’s devices in earnest and figuring out the degree of punishment to fairly inflict upon him, I think it’d be best for that not to happen in too close a proximity to the Climb & Conquer event. The chances are slim to none he’ll figure out he’s been hacked. But on the off chance he realizes it, I wouldn’t want him remembering that nerdy dude who stood a little too close as he got harnessed up to climb the expert rock wall at the party.
Josh: Plane landing in five. You still there?
Me: Not going anywhere. You feeling good, brother?
Josh: I’m FANTASTIC. Kat has no idea what’s coming. She thinks today has been a consolation prize to make up for the fact that I’ll never, ever propose to her. LOL.
Me: Genius.
I check the location of Josh’s target and the target’s wife, yet again, making sure both are where we want them to be, and then send Josh a text letting him know all systems are still go.
Mom: Checking in. How are you?
Jesus Christ. I love this woman so much, but she’s got the worst fucking timing.
Me: I’m in the middle of something important and time sensitive, Mom. I’ll call you later.
Mom: In the time it took you to send that text, you could have filled me in on the status with Hannah. Is everything still going wonderfully with her, I hope?
Fuck my life. I wouldn’t normally have told my mother about my relationship with Hannah until we were living together and the revelation was unavoidable, precisely because I don’t like having to answer questions like this. But I couldn’t help myself during one particularly lonely night in DC. I was missing Hannah so much that night, I’d decided to get shitfaced on whiskey from the minibar. And then, as often happens when I drink excessively, I got the “dial-ies,” as I call them, followed by an acute case of word vomit. When Hannah didn’t answer my call, I drunkenly called my mother and babbled to her all about the amazing girlfriend I couldn’t wait to see again.
