Page 9 of Midnight’s Captive (Stroke of Midnight #2)
The elevator dinged at the same time the door slid open, revealing the executive floor. Ash had been allowed up on his own today, although there was a guard stationed both at the bottom and at the top. Maybe it was the lack of guards, but the ride had seemed shorter, definitely less tense.
Ignoring the guard, he stepped out and strode toward the doors to Portia’s office. Ms. Tremaine’s office, he corrected. He wasn’t sure what the penalty for using her first name was, but he couldn’t imagine that it was good.
Halfway there, he paused and spoke to the assistant. “Ms. Tremaine is expecting me.” More like summoned , given the message waiting for him when he got home in the early hours of the morning.
She barely looked at him before she said, “Go on in.”
Ash frowned. That wasn’t very assistant like of her. Whatever other thoughts he’d had dissipated when the office doors opened.
Back to the door, Portia stood at the opposite side of the office, in front of the wall of windows. The city of Seattle sprawled out in front of her. On anyone else, the slumped shoulders would make him think she was lonely... Ash snorted softly. This was Portia Tremaine. He wasn’t sure she had feelings.
No, that wasn’t fair. Before the bombing, that might have been true. But he at least had witnessed her overwhelming grief at losing her husband. And the terrible anger that had followed. He dreaded the day she turned that anger on him. That was why he and Hope had to be out of the city as soon as possible. Why he needed the Jack’s help so desperately.
Ash cleared his throat, uncomfortable witnessing this vulnerable moment. He couldn’t afford to see the Tremaines as anything but his enemy.
She turned, back straightening, shoulders pulling back while he watched. Whatever hint of humanity he’d imagined had disappeared, leaving only the Ice Queen behind. He thought he saw a little moue of annoyance before that disappeared as well.
“Your workstation has been set up,” she said, skipping hello or any courtesies. That was fine. He preferred to get down to business.
A very small desk that looked like it had been requisitioned from the orphanage sat between her desk and the windows. It looked like something you might see on bring-your-child-to-work day. Was that where she’d gotten the idea? Unlikely. Neither Phillip nor Portia Tremaine seemed capable of whimsy.
He stepped toward it. Stopped. “May I?”
“Of course.” That cool tone—the Ice Queen granting him a boon.
Ash circled the desk. It looked nothing like the one he used in the cybersecurity center.
The chair was almost as tall as the desk. It was plain, with a metal back and worn cushions. Sure, to the untrained eye, it might look like a hacking chair. If you squinted.
He sat carefully. The chair creaked, but held. It was so uncomfortable, though. His knees hit the desk when he rolled up to it. With the added distance, his arms barely reached the keyboard and his neck bent awkwardly when he stared at the screen.
“I can’t do this.” He levered out of the chair with difficulty.
Portia stalked across the room. “The project?”
He almost nodded, then thought better of it and chose his words carefully. “I can’t work with this equipment.”
“It’s a top-of-the-line computer. It won’t officially be released until the end of the year.” Her expression practically dared him to argue further.
Was it? He hadn’t even looked at the computer. He did now and whistled. It was gorgeous. “Very nice. How’d you manage to score this?” He couldn’t wait to test it out.
He didn’t expect an answer, but she said, “I do have friends.”
His jaw dropped.
Her icy gaze narrowed. “Don’t try to tell me the computer is the problem.”
“Oh, no. It isn’t.” He was sincere. “I wasn’t talking about the computer. I can’t wait to get my hands on it.” Another truth. “That’s the problem—I can’t.”
“Spell it out for me.”
Arms crossed over her chest and dressed in her usual style despite the somber black, she was the picture of icy impatience. Even when the Jack had been impatient in their meetings, the fire in her gaze, her movements, drew him closer. Portia made him want to back away.
“I can’t reach it.” He sat back down, demonstrated. “You’re hobbling me if you expect me to work on this system.”
She circled the small desk. Her gaze was cool, assessing.
He shivered.
“This was the best my assistant could do at short notice.”
Ash doubted that. “Probably the easiest,” he muttered under his breath.
She circled him again and he felt like a shark’s next meal.
“It does look like a problem,” she conceded when she’d finished her second loop.
The silence stretched between them until Ash broke it. “I can give you a list of what I need.”
That glare again.
“A list of possible solutions,” he amended.
“Show me.” She gestured at his workstation.
Ash stifled a sigh. He’d hoped that she would let him use her computer. He wasn’t completely sure he could create a back door to her system, but he’d planned to try. Portia Tremaine had to have secrets. There was no way someone that high in the company—a Tremaine!—didn’t.
But in all his time at the company, all the time working with Leopold Brunswick to uncover Tremaine secrets, he’d found nothing on her. Which didn’t seem possible. How could anyone raised by Phillip Tremaine have clean hands?
He scootched as close to the desk as he could get, angling his knees under to reach the keyboard. Ash made sure the chair creaked with each movement.
The computer walked him through setting up the biometric scanner and multiple passwords. “This machine is amazing.” He didn’t get a reply. Hadn’t expected one, either. He glanced back to see how closely she was watching him.
Boredom and impatience looked back at him.
Taking a chance, he created an unregistered profile. It wasn’t foolproof but it should prevent the majority of the Tremaine tracking software from watching his every move. Under the guise of setting up the profile, he pulled up the command line interface and reviewed the software that had been installed on this machine. He wouldn’t put it past Portia to install in-house software to monitor his work.
After five years, he knew most of the programs Tremaine IT relied on—the ones he used and the ones he wasn’t supposed to know about. Ash found two of them on the list as he scrolled through. Knowing they were there, he kept his initial keystrokes relatively normal. Nothing IT hadn’t seen from him in the past.
He’d try the more complicated moves when she wasn’t standing over his shoulder and he had the chance to circumvent the tracking software. Feeling her watchful presence, Ash realized that he knew absolutely nothing about Portia’s computer skills.
She didn’t know what he was doing—did she? What if she did? What if she’d understood every move he’d made?
Shit . That could be a problem.
“I’m surprised you don’t have a computer like this.” He tried to make the comment sound like casual conversation, not a fishing expedition.
“Who says I don’t?”
Well, that told him precisely nothing.
Deciding that was a problem for later, Ash pushed those worries away and pulled up a furniture site. Still standing over his shoulder, she didn’t say anything as he scrolled through desks and then chairs.
What he really wanted was his old port chair, the one that he’d been forced to leave at the warehouse. It was perfectly worn in, exceptionally comfortable. He could work in it for hours. If he still had a port.
Port chairs were out, though. Portia had made that clear in their first meeting. Asking her again would likely just make her mad. Working quickly, unnerved by her presence, he compiled a list of possible chairs and a couple of desks that would work. “I emailed you the equipment list and pieces that the company probably already has, either in one of the computer rooms or in surplus.” Would she balk at being forced to choose his furniture or was that the level of micromanaging she wanted?
The soft chime from her computer let him know it had arrived. Ash looked up to meet her gaze.
She gave nothing away. “Very well. I’ll review and ensure you get a more suitable desk. We need to get to work.” Her smile was sharp and cold.
Ash shivered, thankful when she returned to her desk.