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“You’re serious?”
“Would I ever joke about that? Of course I’m serious. You know what we do, and you’d fit right in. Having someone with your legal knowledge and experience on board would bring so much added value. We’d be able to do different kinds of jobs. It would widen our expertise considerably, so yeah, you can start tomorrow if you want.”
Roman’s head dazzled. Working for Wander. He’d never considered that, but now that he did, it sounded so much more than tempting. It sounded…perfect. But first, they had to defeat Whitman. The senator might have won this battle, but the war…the war was far from over.
20
Wander had found Caleb a place to stay with Miguel, a friend of Connor’s. Connor was a former client of Wander’s, and Caleb had met him only once when they’d run into him at the shooting range. But he and Wander had stayed in touch, and that was how Wander found Miguel.
Miguel owned a tiny two-bedroom house in a Boston suburb and was all too happy to offer Caleb the use of the second bedroom…and to play his boyfriend when needed. He fit the profile in terms of sexual orientation—gay as a maypole, he’d told Caleb when they met—and age, fifteen years older than Caleb. As a bonus, he worked at Logan Airport, so even that part of the story checked out.
“If there’s anything you need, let me know,” he said to Caleb. “I owe Connor my life, so don’t hesitate to ask.”
Caleb was curious as fuck what that was about, but he didn’t ask. If Miguel wanted Caleb to know, he’d tell him.
Caleb had only brought a weekend bag, intending to travel back home every weekend, so unpacking in the tiny bedroom was easy as pie, and all his clothes fit into the small closet. He’d ordered two suits and five different shirts, plus a collection of ties, all conservative, according to Roman, who’d been a big help in knowing what to get. The result was boring but presentable, and that was what mattered. But Jesus, Caleb hated wearing a tie almost as much as those uncomfortable leather shoes that pinched his toes.
Having to switch cars was a hassle, but they couldn’t risk him being tailed in his own car, so he parked it about halfway in a small town where he could make sure he wasn’t tailed, then switched to the rental. On the way back, he’d have to do the same, except in reverse.
Still, that Monday morning, dressed to the nines, he took the T to Bowdoin and walked the last few minutes to Coldrick Law. His breakfast—scrambled eggs and a bagel with cream cheese, plus a cup of coffee so strong he’d been surprised the spoon hadn’t stayed upright—sat uncomfortably in his stomach, swirling and sloshing. Maybe he should’ve eaten something lighter. Or skipped the coffee. Or not eaten at all.
When he walked in, Isabella was talking to the receptionist, and when she spotted Caleb, she smiled. “Good morning, Cal.”
He swallowed. “Good morning, ma’am.”
Isabella shot the receptionist a look and chuckled. “I told you he’d ma’am me within seconds.”
Cal deliberately shuffled his feet in his best “aw, shucks” attempt. Lowell had impressed upon him the importance of selling his military background, including calling Isabella ma’am whenever he had the chance. Looked like that was paying off. “I hope it doesn’t bother you, ma’am.”
“Not at all. I think it’s endearing.” Isabella gestured at the receptionist. “This is Kathleen. Kathleen, please get Cal a security pass and give him a tour of the office, would you? Once that’s done, send him to me. I’ve cleared my schedule for an hour to help him get settled.”
Cal could barely hide his surprise. Isabella was planning on personally welcoming him to the office? That was unexpected…and a hell of a lot nicer than he’d expected from her.
Kathleen was friendly and polite but distant. Caleb was fine with that. He posed for the picture for his security badge, then followed Kathleen as she led him through the office.
“Ms. Coldrick’s office.” Kathleen gestured at the corner office where Caleb had had his interview. “Obviously, you can’t walk in without an appointment. Charlotte is in charge of Ms. Coldrick’s calendar.”
Caleb waved at the blond, fiftysomething woman dressed in a coral-blue outfit who was on the phone, ruthlessly asking to get the information she needed. She’d be a force to reckon with.
“These are our paralegals,” Kathleen continued, pointing at a large square room with four cubicles. “Everyone, this is Cal, our new IT guy.”
Heads popped up like meerkats, and he got waves and raised hands, which he promptly returned. “Welcome aboard,” someone muttered before diving back into their digital trench.
“And this will be your office.” Kathleen opened a door to the darkest, tiniest room Caleb had ever seen. But it only held one desk, and his heart skipped a beat.
“I’m not sharing?”
“No, Ms. Coldrick didn’t think it smart, considering your job.”
Thank you, Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. Not having to fear a coworker looking over his shoulder would make things so much easier for him. “I appreciate that. Privacy is of crucial importance for what I do.”
Had he laid it on too thick? Judging by Kathleen’s serious nod, he hadn’t. Good.
Kathleen escorted him into Isabella’s office, as requested, and then took off. Isabella was dressed stylishly in corporate black, her gaze as sharp as her stilettos. Jesus, how did women walk in those? He’d so break his ankles.
“Let’s get started,” Isabella said and explained what she wanted him to focus on first. Like most business owners, she had a vague idea of what she wanted but lacked the terminology and understanding to make it more specific, but Caleb had no trouble getting the picture.
“Let me see if I understood correctly. You want me to start by running a full system check to identify any weaknesses and, if I do, patch those first. Next, you’re requesting an analysis of your cybersecurity with a plan of attack to upgrade it. Once we have that and you have given your approval, we’ll execute it.”
