Page 31 of The Five Year Lie

As Drew passes her desk, heading for the coffee station, Ariel keeps her head down. But the moment he clears her airspace, she lifts her gaze and admires his ass.

She is a stupid, stuck-up bitch. Always has been. This little charade is so obvious to anyone who cares to notice. Which, to be fair, isn’t many people. Chime Co. is populated by surprisingly clueless humans.

A lot happens around here that nobody sees.

The programmer picks up his mug, rises from his chair and follows Drew toward the coffee. Ignoring the other man, he rinses out his cup and spins the rack of coffee pods. All the slots are empty, except for the decaf, which is still full, of course.

It’s Ariel who’s supposed to keep this thing stocked. But she doesn’t bother. So he grabs an unopened box of coffee pods out of the cabinet, rips the top off and grabs one.

“Oh, awesome,” Drew Miller says. “You mind if I...?”

“Go ahead.” He trains his eyes on the clipboard under Drew’s arm, aiming to see what the hell the kid was photocopying.

But Drew, that sneaky fucker, has clipped the pages onto the board upside down. Who does that? Someone who’s up to no good, that’s who.

“Nice mug,” Drew says as they fire up side-by-side coffee machines. “I think you got the best one.”

“Thanks.” The mug saysBINARY IS AS EASY AS 1, 10, 11. It’s his favorite because of the shape, not the cheap joke on the front. And if Drew wants to pull him into a conversation, he’s gonna have to do better.

Drew smiles, then asks a real question. “Why do you think they fight like that? Does it happen a lot?”

“Do you have a brother?”

Drew’s smile fades. He shakes his head.

“Yeah, neither do I. So I guess I wouldn’t know.” And now his phone beeps, so he pulls it out of his pocket. “Excuse me. I’d better answer this.”

Drew waves him off with another white-toothed smile.

He grabs his coffee and reads the message on his way back to his desk. It’s arrived via an encrypted chat. From TheBoss to Brainz.

He’s Brainz in this scenario, of course.

TheBoss:How’s our project today? Any hiccups?

Brainz: Humming along. No new bugs.

TheBoss:Excellent work. BTW I hear there’s going to be good weather for fishing this weekend. Don’t make any plans for Saturday.

Brainz: Sounds good. You know I love fishing.

He pockets his phone and gets back to work.

11

ARIEL

Becky’s Diner is a Portland institution. It opens at the crack of dawn, early enough to serve the lobstermen who come in after dropping their traps. By the time normal people are ready to eat, there’s a long line for tables or a seat at the counter.

Zain and I hit it at eleven thirty, before the lunch rush. We snag an outdoor table up on their back deck and order fat club sandwiches.

“And coffee, please,” Zain says. “Keep it coming.”

“You look like you could do a face-plant on the table,” I tell him.

“Well, that’s flattering.” He stretches his arms overhead and rotates his neck. “Every programmer does all-nighters sometimes. It’s the nature of the beast. And I need to put the tape back on the shelf before anyone gets suspicious.”

“What did you find?” I demand.