Page 62 of Undeniably Corrupt

“You can’t retire. You can’t leave me alone with him.”

“You’ve got this. Go knock on his door and don’t take any of his shit.”

She walks off, and I’m left gnawing on my lip and pulling on a loose thread on my blouse.

Crap!

Me: We have an incident with one of your clients, and you have a meeting in two hours.

No reply. Ugh!

Vander’s office phone rings, and it’s… Pinnacle Financial’s freaking CEO. Double crap!

“Vander Moore’s office, this is Liora speaking.”

“This is Marcus Daniels. I’m so glad you picked up,” the man says, his voice urgent. “One of our senior vice presidents has us in a panic. He clicked on a link in an email, and it took him to a funny website he felt didn’t look legit. I’m concerned it was a threat actor, or whatever you call them, and now we’ve been infiltrated. Again.”

My blood freezes. “Did he say what the email looked like?”

“It was an internal email from our auditing department. Said it looked completely legitimate. It had our logo with all the right formatting.”

“Got it. Mr. Daniels, I’m going to relay this message to Mr. Moore immediately.”

“Please hurry. The last time something like this happened, it turned out to be ransomware. Vander was able to fix it somehow without us having to pay, but it’s not a road I want to travel down again or let our shareholders know about.”

“Right. Of course.” Because that’s not sketchy at all. “We’ll be in touch shortly.”

I disconnect the call and chew on my lip.

I call Vander’s cell, and it rings once, twice, until his voicemail picks up with no mailbox set up. Of course not.

I stand and straighten my slightly too short pencil skirt with one sharp tug.

Each step to his closet door feels like a mile, with the tap of my cheap heels on the polished concrete floor an exclamation point of my annoyance. The glass walls of the main office give way to a short, private corridor leading to his closet. Unlike the rest of our sleek, modern workspace, this hallway feels like an industrial tunnel, leading to a black hole or a cave.

With my heart hammering in my throat, I knock. Hesitantly at first, then with escalating insistence when no response comes.

“Vander.” My knuckles rap against the wood until they hurt. “I know you’re in there.”

Silence.

“Pinnacle Financial was hit with a phishing attack, and you have a meeting with a CEO in less than two hours.” I raise my voice, not caring if it carries outside his office. I kick his door in frustration.

“Vander?”

I close my eyes. Not now. Not her.

Alesha rounds the corner and finds me standing in front of his closed door. “Oh. You. We have a meeting soon.”

“He knows.”

“Can’t you get him out of there? Isn’t that your job? He can play drums later.”

I swear to Jesus, if he’s in there playing the damn drums, I’m going to shove one of those sticks up his ass. And how does she know what’s in there? This woman has been shit talking me up and down the floor. Sometimes I actually hear her, and she’s as nasty as it gets.

“Alesha, go pee in someone else’s cornflakes for once. I’m in no mood. He’ll be at the meeting.”

“And you’ll be out on your ass by the end of the week if you keep this up. The sweet ex-girlfriend charm is no doubt wearing thin if he won’t even open the door for you.”