Page 28 of Hacking His Code

After finishing off a few of Chet’s desserts, we get up to leave, my mother and Ari exchanging hugs.

As they say their goodbyes, Father pulls me aside and whispers into my ear, “I don’t know what you have to do to make this work, but I’ll leave you the damn company tomorrow if you can make it happen.”

I chuckle at his jape before realizing his tone lacks humor.

And suddenly, my life just got infinitely harder.

Arinessa

I turnto Hunter as soon as the door closes behind us. “What the hell was that?”

He inhales sharply, raking his long fingers through his shaggy hair. “That was my mother.”

“Did she like…up until this moment think that you were gay or something?”

He chuckles. “She’s just not used to me bringing women home. You’re the first.”

“She’s kind of awesome, in a weird warm kind of way. I never expected someone like her to be so inviting toward someone like me. I actually felt like she wanted me there.”

“Oh, trust me—she did.”

The way he looks at me makes my heart skip a beat. Those dark eyes of his have this way of looking not just at you, but into you.

Stop looking at him. You’re here to work, nothing more. He’s been treating you like a professional, and you need to do the same.

Except, professional doesn’t include bragging about our fake sex life.

“Why did you tell the girls that we ruined my dress by…ummm…”

His lips upturn into a smile. “What else would you have me say? That you were learning how to walk in high heels?”

“I wasn’t learning! I’ve just never tried ones so tall.”

“What I said was more believable.”

He’s right, and I need to drop this now. I need to stop looking at him, thinking about him, and even talking to him. This is about work.

There are three large boxes sitting on the table that weren’t there before. The cold case files, I assume, and I’m proven right when Hunter begins digging through them.

“Everything we have on the case is either in these boxes or in the computer. You can start whenever you’re ready.”

“That would be now.” I take a seat at the table, lifting the laptop screen and arranging the files next to me.

My heart sinks a little now that I’ve become acquainted with the Davies family. Before, this was just a cold case I’d watch documentaries on at 2 a.m. Now, the case is real, and I know the people at its center.

I hate that Ernestine suffered the loss of her twin, and I’m more invested in this job as a result.

The computer files are color-coded and in sync with the hard copies, arranged smartly by someone that knew what they were doing. Still, I check each to make sure they align.

I start with recreating the timeline in a way that allows for easier processing, which requires some good old fashion pencil work.

“Do you have a notebook I can write in?” I ask.

Hunter brings me a fancy leather-bound journal.

“Ummm…could it be a cheap Five-Star notebook? I don’t want to sound unappreciative, but in order to get ‘in the zone,’ I can’t be writing in that fancy thing.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “I’ll have some brought up.”