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“I’ll explain everything in the car. Let’s go.”
“Can I get dressed first?”
“You don’t have enough time for that.” He tosses me a robe. “This will have to do.”
“You could at least let me put on a shirt.”
Without another word, he herds me onto the private elevator, and I convince myself that this is a twisted dream. That there’s no way anyone would fuck with me when I’m months away from closing the biggest deal of my career.
When we reach the car, the driver speeds onto the street.
“We’ve noticed a spike in searches on the company IP address.” Walsh hands me a tablet. “And tonight, someone breached your personal laptop.”
“That’s impossible,” I say. “It needs my fingerprint approval to work.”
“See for yourself.” He motions for me to look at the screen.
“How much arsenic can you put in someone’s coffee to make them sick, but not sick enough to die?” “What about antifreeze?” “Are 9 to 5 jobs cruel and unusual punishment?”
“These searches intensified recently, sir,” he says. “We believe that someone is trying to sabotage you.”
“I can’t believe you dragged me out of bed for this.” I roll my eyes. “Can you have my assistant bring a suit to the office, please?”
“Ten steps ahead of you.” He refreshes the screen. “We really need to take this seriously, sir. This is more of what we found.”
I resist the urge to toss the tablet out the window. Then, I look over the results.
“How long do Audi Spider tires take to deflate?” “Hitman for hire but just for small tasks, not the murder part, at least not immediately.” “Can I bribe a barista to add a pinch of rat poison to a coffee order? Would I go to prison for that or just the barista?” “Dominic Reiss has a very ‘stabbable’ neck.” “How to unblock Pinterest on my work computer.”
“Interesting.” I smile. “When exactly did these searches start?”
“Two weeks ago, sir. I can promise you that this isnothingto smile about.”
I hold back a laugh.
The timeline molds perfectly to when a certain employee was demoted from ‘team leader’ to ‘intern’ because she refused to learn what “mandatory overtime” meant. A certain employee who is by far the sexiest woman I’d ever met, but the worst associate Human Resources has ever hired at my company.
“Would you like me to notify the FBI about this, Mr. Reiss?” Walsh asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t feel the slightest bit threatened.”
“Are you sure, sir?”
“Very sure, Walsh.” I look at my watch. “We don’t need to take this any further.”
“As you wish, but you’re not going back home until this afternoon.” He makes a few calls as the driver speeds through the streets.
Once we reach headquarters, I admire the golden “Reiss Enterprises” sign outside the steps. No matter how often I see it, I’m reminded of how hard I’ve worked since turning sixteen to get to where I am today.
Getting out of the car, I swipe my key at the front door and slip inside the building.
I blink a few times as I look around the lobby.
A massive Christmas tree, wrapped in all red ribbon and dressed in bright glass ornaments, is glowing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Lush green garland is hanging from the staircase railings, and a long line of twinkling holiday lights is creating a trail on the floor.
Although this is the first year I’ve requested that we decorate this place for the holidays, I’m surprised the staff is handling this so early.
