Page 85 of The Deals We Make

“Ti.” My name is softly spoken as she reaches for my wrist. “I run a well-respected cybersecurity firm. We’ve done all the things that technology allows.”

I take a deep breath. “Right. Of course you have. Why haven’t you blocked him? Why haven’t you got a new number?”

She lets go of my wrist. “He already found this number. Whoever it is will find out the new one if they really want to badly enough. Both Orson and the police agree on a couple of things. First, I need as much evidence as possible in the event we find out who they are. And second, for as long as they have this number and are content to menace me virtually, I’m safe.”

“Until he comes looking for you.”

Calista glances out of the window towards the street. “Unless it’s a woman and she already has.”

“Okay. Then let’s deal with that first. Let Orson know what just happened. And I’ll see if I can find a feed from any security cameras I have access to.”

Calista raises an eyebrow. “I thought I came up with the plans and you were my stalwart aide.”

“Might be how you remember it, babe. Not how it is now.”

“And what security cameras do you have feeds from?”

I just stare at her, not answering.

She barks out a laugh. “You’re not going to tell me?”

I shake my head. “Might have to kill you. Club business is club business, babe.”

“Can’t decide if that was hot or rude.”

I put my hand around her neck and tug her to me before kissing her firmly. “It’s hot.”

She shoves me away playfully. “Jury’s still out on that. But I will call Orson, and you do your magic shit. And I’ll have to call into a business meeting I was meant to attend.”

I’m about to reach for her again, because one kiss wasn’t enough, when my phone rings and I see Alessio’s name on the screen. Calista glances at it, and her smile fades.

And I realize I’d do just about anything to put it back. So, I ignore the call.

“Let’s get to work.”

I start with the cameras in front of my parent’s house, but they are angled toward the house, not away from it. The car was parked in such a way that the camera aimed at the drive doesn’t capture the black car’s plate.

Calista joins her call sitting professionally at my dining table. Occasionally I tune into what she’s saying but quickly tune her out again as listening to all those smart words from her mouth gives me boner.

I’m sure there’s some fancy word for getting turned on by a highly intelligent woman.

Over the next few hours, I find a security camera feed from the city that shows the black car. But there is no plate on the front either, so we can’t trace it. It looks new, though. A Toyota. Makes me wonder if there’s a way to find out who bought a new, black Toyota in the last twelve months. I’m sure it’s a lot, but maybe a name will pop for Calista.

I’ve sat in the same spot the whole time. But since Calista’s call ended, she has sat on the sofa, the armchair, the rug, and then back onto the armchair. Although, the second time, she’s thrown both her legs over the chair arm.

“You got any tricks for enhancing this image more than I can?” I ask her.

She unravels herself from the chair and sits right next to me on the sofa to look over my shoulder. The scent of her is intoxicating. So is her proximity. “Hmm. I have a professor friend who created software to fill in the gaps on images using digital clues and artificial intelligence. He might be able to help.”

Thehebothers me. A little flicker of jealousy seeping through my bones. I reach out and stroke the narrow band of smooth skin between the top of her jeans and her sweater. “He?”

“Professor Harry Stokes. And while that jealous growl is quite attractive, you have utterly nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not jealous,” I say, dipping my fingertip beneath her waistband.

Calista bites down on her lower lip. “Me thinks thou doth protest too much.”

“Jesus, that sounds like something King’s old lady might say.”