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When I look up from my phone, Kat is smirking wickedly at me. “There’s no way in hell you’re going to wait to have sex with that man when he comes to Seattle,” she says. “I predict you’ll pounce on him the minute he walks through your front door.”
I put my phone down on a side table and scoff. “Nope. I’ve made my decision, and I’m going to stick to it. In fact, I’m going to ask Henn to book a hotel room, rather than inviting him to stay with me. I’ll also ask my sister to be there at my apartment when Henn arrives to pick me up for our first date. See? I’m determined.”
Kat downright belly laughs. “All it’s going to take is one goodnight kiss and you’ll be inviting him to ride your Slip ‘n’ Slide again.”
“You want to bet a buck?” Kat and I often bet a dollar on silly things to keep our work life fun and interesting. So much so, we have this one crumpled dollar bill that’s been traded back and forth between us at least a hundred times.
Kat says, “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks you’ll sleep with Henn the first night he’s in Seattle.”
“A hundred bucks?” I’m shocked. Kat and I have never bet more than a dollar on anything. “That’s way too rich for my blood, sister.”
“Fifty, then,” Kat amends. “Why not, if you’re so sure of your plan to take things slow?”
I squint sharply, making her laugh. “Okay, fine, it’s a bet.” I shake her hand. “Sucker. This is totally within my control, remember?”
Kat snorts and releases my hand. “So you think. But I’m the one who can see you, remember? You can’t see yourself. And, girl, it’s obvious you’re bewitched and besotted by this boy.” Kat and I use those two words quite a bit, thanks to our mutual love of Pride & Prejudice. But we normally use them to describe our respective sandwiches or some new eyeliner we’ve discovered. She’s never once used the words to describe me in relation to a guy.
“It’s that obvious?” I ask.
“Oh, honey.” At this angle, I can see Kat closing her eyes behind her sunglasses. “The good news is you’re a winner either way. If you win the bet, you’ll get a cool fifty bucks and the chance to say I told you so. And if you lose, it’ll be because you’ve realized banging Henn sounds more delicious to you than pocketing fifty bucks and getting to tell me to stuff it—and that realization, my friend, will only make the sex even hotter.” Kat snickers. “You’re welcome.”
8
HENN
I climb out of the Uber with my computers and duffel bag. I’ve got about an hour before my meeting at FBI headquarters a few blocks away—fuck my life—so I figure I’ll use my downtime productively. I head into the coffee place I selected as my destination while standing on a curb at Dulles, and thankfully, it’s pretty empty at this time of day.
I place an order at the counter for a quintuple-shot Americano and take a seat at a small table in a corner with my back against the wall. There’s nobody at any of the tables nearest to me, exactly the way I like it. Also, the two surveillance cameras—both of them mounted across the room close to the ceiling—are positioned in such a way that they won’t be able to capture my laptop screen or the movements of my fingers on my keyboard. Perfect.
It’s not that I think anyone is actually watching me or tracking my physical person. Or even that anyone will go back and peruse the surveillance footage of me. But this is standard practice for me when I’m working in public because I always assume there’s someone actively looking for me at all times. Or rather, for the anonymous hacker known as Bluebird—the unidentified person who’s slithered into their devices and fucked them over six ways from Sunday. If not that, then I assume there’s some random, two-bit hacker nearby who’s trying to pilfer banking info or passwords from anyone naive enough to log into public wi-fi.
My surroundings secured, I pull out one of my three laptops and place it onto my small table, along with my coffee cup and an encrypted mobile hotspot. Before getting myself connected, however, I can’t resist once again peeking at that eye-popping bikini shot of Hannah. Holy fuck. She’s a goddess. Not only physically, but in every way. I’ve never felt this kind of insane spark with anyone. Not on a first date. Not on a fiftieth. Now that I’ve experienced it, I’m determined to fan the flame until it grows into a raging forest fire. Hence, the phishing link I sent to Hannah earlier today. I’m dying to see if Hannah or Kat clicked my link. But first, I’m going to force myself to do some work.
