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Shaking my head, I go back into my room and watch a show I’ve been half interested in while I occasionally scroll on my phone.
You need to learn how to relax, Taryn!
I toss the phone down and shut the lights off, leaving the television playing at a low volume. The wine is finally taking effect, and I feel my eyes drift closed.
I feel like I’ve slept for five minutes when I’m woken up by a loud beeping. I blink a few times to get my bearings and rub my eyes as I get up and wander out to the living room. The laptop is still lit up and I check the microwave for the time:2:19 a.m.
Perking up a little, I see the app is open and asking for a password. “Yes!” I say with a yawn, sit down, and put in Carter’s username and password he uses for all the regular systems at work. Yes, I’d looked it up. No, I’m not proud of it.
And... I’m in.
“Whoa... what the hell is this?”
After fifteen minutes of looking around, I can see it’s some sort of app that can send mass text messages. I click into the history and view one text per month to 1,090 users. Then I click on the sent messages. The most recent one has my brow furrowed. “Moorland Drive, Denver? A password?”
I grab a pen and my notepad and jot down the date, address, and password. My curiosity is at an all-time high and I can’t wait to find out what this is. Some secret Masons meeting? What location could hold a thousand people? I do some more digging and my eyes bulge out of my head.
“Fifteen hundred bucks to access? Holy crap.” Some quick math tells me that’s a lot of money. What kind of secret squirrel shit is this?
I yawn again and shut down the laptop, hoping I can get some more sleep since I have to be up in four hours.
***
Saturday night, I sitwith Christa and Lauryn at Silver Park Brewery. I really enjoyed the food, drinks, and atmosphere after Carter took me here, so I made the suggestion for tonight. I was in no mood for clubs or straight-up bars.
“So, he didn’t even say anything to you at all?” Christa asks, sipping her cosmopolitan.
“Nope, didn’t say two words on Friday. I wasn’t about to ask him, though, if he’d had to come back there and lock up or if he had someone else do it. He shouldn’t have locked me on the floor like that, so it’s his problem.” I shrug like I don’t care, but I really do. I want to know if he’s pissed at me for leaving the stairwell door unlocked or if it’s just a common occurrence. Maybe he should give us keys.
Christa snorts. “Well, if he wants to give you the cold shoulder, you can give him your whole-ass cold backside.”
We all laugh at her joke.
“So you have the hots for your boss, huh?” Lauryn asks, picking up a mozzarella stick.
I shrug. “I mean, I’ve known him since we were kids... well, teens. He and my brother were a lot older but I always ‘had the hots’ for him.” I snort.
“And now you’re working for him?” she pushes. “And it’s awkward?”
I dip my head in acknowledgment. “Yeah, and I get that he wants to keep it professional at work, and that’s fine. I’d be down for some office hanky-panky but he’s the damn owner so I know he won’t risk it.” I giggle. “But there’s keeping it professional and then just being a grouchy jerk. I’d love to see him outside of work, but so far, that’s been a no-go.”
“Why don’t you ask him out?” Christa suggests.
I set my vodka soda down after taking a sip. “I’ve thought about it.”
“The worst he can say is no.” Christa shrugs.
“Or fire me for hitting on him,” I say dryly.
“Well, don’t do it at work. Text him after work. Heck, text him right now.” Christa reaches for my phone that’s set face down on the table.
I snatch it before she can grab it. “No way!”
“Come on. Make it light and fun. Maybe he’ll meet you here. Lauryn and I will find a corner table and just watch.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“That’s kinda weird,” I say.
She laughs. “No, it’s not. Just do it.”
