Page 8 of Drunk In Love
Revenge was a great motivator for many things, I thought. Possibly fraud was the catalyst too.
“Hard at work already, I see.” Maxwell’s deep baritone sounds dangerously close to my ear, his warm breath tickling the hairs.
“You scared me,” I say, glancing to my right to see him. I put a hand over my heart that’s suddenly beating fast.
Surely, it was only because I was startled and had nothing to do with the close proximity of Max.
“What are you working on?” Max asks, pulling up a chair beside me, hovering so close that I can feel the warmth of his body next to mine. He smells good.
Really good. Like a spicy cologne but not overpowering. A scent that drew me in.
I lean back in my chair, away from him, as his eyebrows shoot up and he waits for my answer.
Get a grip, girl.
“I wanted to check out how the paywall normally operated on the Financial Journal website before entering the guest password Zach provided.”
Did Maxwell just stiffen at the mention of Zach?
“Zach, of course,” Maxwell answers. “So, what have you found so far?”
I begin explaining how the paywall is a standard one that anyone would come across on most news sites or social media and requires a log in to view content. I try clicking around the dialogue box to show him how, for the average person, it’s impossible to get past the paywall.
“So what are you really thinking about all this? I can see the wheels turning,” he quips before taking a sip of his coffee.
“The crime just doesn’t make sense. If it is a hacker or someone beating the paywall…well, why? If you can hack into the FJ system, then you could hack into bank accounts or wipe out some student loans. Not that I’m in support of unethical hacking, but why use those skills to just read some news articles?”
Max chuckled. “You’ve got a point. The crime seems so random.”
“Yes! That’s exactly it. I keep thinking it is all very random. Unless it’s some kind of vendetta, since whoever is doing this knows that the journal is losing money by letting non-subscribers have access to the site.”
Max is quiet for a moment, contemplating my words. “There’s more to this. I think we should head downstairs and speak with some employees of Financial Journal.”
My smile grows. “That’s an excellent idea! Someone must know more than Cecily and Zach, since a lot of times employees may not allow their bosses to be privy to everything going on.”
“Exactly,” Max says, rising and heading towards his desk.
“Let’s give it another hour. Let the employee’s settle in, and then we can make our way down there.”
Maxwell gives a mock salute. “You got it, boss.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Boss? Since when have you ever called me that?”
Maxwell puts his hands up in mock surrender. “This assignment is all yours. You, Kamaya, are calling all the shots.”
Brandon chose me to take the assignment because of the cybercrime they were experiencing, but it felt nice to hear I am in charge of something for once. No other area of my life appeared to be in total control. Especially not my love life.
“I like that. Boss. For now though, it’s still just Kam,” I say, delighting too much in his answering smile.
We made our way down to FJ offices by 8:30. Perfect timing because the spacious office was now a flurry of activity. Conversations around conference tables and Zoom calls and presentations were already commencing.
I texted Zach moments ago, and he advised that Maxwell and I could speak with Katie Lucas in his absence. Apparently, Cecily only came in the office two days a week and Zach often accompanied his subordinates to presentations and sales pitches throughout the tri-state area.
As we approach the reception desk of Financial Journal, Max leans down to whisper in my ear. “It’s very fancy here on the lower floor.”
I understood his meaning. The entire office was pristine and nearly stark white, only offset by the light wood desks. It seemed as if we’d entered the Apple Genius store instead of an office.
“Extremely bougie,” I whisper back.