Page 40 of Only the Devil

“Are you certain about that?” Then he laughs. Yes, he laughs like a maniacal devil straight out of a comic. “Come now, I’m joking. No, I came in because I wanted to talk with you. The work you’re doing, it’s a game changer. You might be one of the most important hires I’ve ever made. I’m curious. What motivates you?”

I’m taken aback by the question and shift in the chair, crossing my legs to buy time to get my thoughts in a row.

“We’re developing five-year rewards, as employee incentives. And it got me thinking, what could we offer you? Is it stock? A bonus? Company car? Condo? What will motivate you?”

Is this a trap? But no, his expression is intent. The man’s serious. And he expects an answer.

“What’s the saying? Cash is king?”

“So a bonus. And you prefer a financial incentive in cash over, say, crypto?” He rests his elbows on the armrest and taps the tips of his widespread fingers together. “I just want to get a feel for you.”

Again, ick.

“I suppose I’m not that different from any other employee.”

“Oh, that’s not true.” His expression can only be described as a leer. “Rhodes MacMillan couldn’t keep you on staff, and he’s got a reputation for running an employee-friendly ship. Unless maybe you got caught up in the partnership discord?”

He’s referring to the underhanded dealings that will ultimately land Miles Johnson in prison. Connections can only go so far, at least, unless Miles can score a presidential pardon—which, unfortunately, isn’t inconceivable.

“No, I wasn’t involved,” I say, lying, as I played a role in uncovering Mile’s deceit. Greedy fucker.

“Well, then, please consider my door always open. If there’s something you want, come talk to me.” His lips spread into a slow smile that slithers through my veins like ice water. I grip the arm of my chair to steady myself.

“Will do. Thank you,” I say, hoping that the conversation has concluded and he’ll exit my office.

“You mentioned your first step is to understand our current systems and to design the architecture, or framework, for the system you want to build.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, then…I also wanted to ask if you’d care to join me at an event in DC. A tech symposium. I thought it might be good for you to network. Do you think you can get away?”

“When is it?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Sure. You’re the boss. I can spend my time however you like.”

“Oh, Ms. Jonas. You are definitely my favorite employee. I love your attitude. Plan on dinner, too.”

Chapter 14

Daisy

After picking up sandwiches from the closest deli, Ned steers me away from the elevator to the stairwell.

“We take the stairs. Technically, we’re not supposed to access the second floor. But, really, it’s our space. We’re paying rent. There’s no reason it can’t be used.”

The stairwell door opens onto a dimly lit floor. Half the overhead fluorescent fixtures are dead, leaving pools of shadow between doorways. I follow Ned down the hall, past offices where Ethernet cables dangle like dead vines from ceiling tiles, and abandoned desk phones sit unplugged. I count the empty desks and cubicles as we pass. Twelve. Fifteen. Twenty. Personal items still scattered on some desks—pens, coffee mugs, a knocked over black plastic trash can. Like people just...disappeared.

“Layoffs?” I ask, knowing the answer.

“Bloodbath,” Ned corrects. “I’m sure you heard about the fund that cratered?” He looks at me like I’m a dumbass. “You researched the company before you took the job, right?”

“Of course,” I answer. “I’m a programmer,” I say defensively, as if programmers always research thoroughly.

“Well, it wiped out thirty percent of our employees. Shitty days,” he mutters, continuing down the hall. “But now we have our own floor, at least until the end of the year. They could give us all offices, but no, they’d rather pay for an empty floor instead of giving dignity to the lowly.”

The usual office hum is absent. No printers whirring, no keyboard clicks, no muffled phone conversations. Just the whisper of air conditioning pushing stale air through the space.