Page 65 of For Your Eyes Only
“Hack my data?” Now my arms prickle with nerves. “What the hell? Does that happen?”
“I heard it happened to a girl in Tampa, but pfft, you know Tampa. They’re pretty lax.”
My eyes blink wide. “I don’t know Tampa! What happened to her?”
“I don’t remember. Just give him a neutral reply, something sweet. If anyone’s phishing, we’ll catch them.” Then she points. “Literally!”
Doing my best to imagine this person really loves animals, I answer sincerely.I’m sorry you saw this tragedy. Maybe bury the poor little thing and sing a song or read a poem. Show him you cared.
It seems like a kind, neutral response. Non-judgmental.
My laptop has been silent since I sent the first message, but Bianca says I need to wait a little longer to be sure they don’t come back within ten minutes of answering.
I can only think of one person I want to be messaging. Resting my head on my hand, I take out my phone and pull up the Instagram post I made at 2 a.m. I love his square jaw, his intense hazel eyes—more green than brown. His longish hair is messy around his head, and when I remember what he did to me, my core clenches.
I can’t resist sending him a text.So I’m sleeping with the Big Boss now?
Again, I don’t know how long to wait for a reply. Luckily, it doesn’t take too long.
I guess I have to fire DJ—or fire me.
The tease in his text makes me laugh. My stomach is bubbly, and I feel like a swoony teenager with a crush.
Perhaps I should find another job?
Gray dots precede his reply.I do like breaking rules, but I don’t like sharing.
The implication of ownership floods my veins with warmth. Still, I’m not one to lose my independence so easily.
Bianca warned me some admirers might get too attached.
I’m taunting him, and my heart beats a little faster as I wait for his reply.
Just leave those assholes to me.
A laugh bursts through my lips, and a ding on my laptop draws my attention. I quickly text,Hold please, and hit send.
Dropping my phone, I pull up the DM on my computer. “My Number 1 fan is back,” I sing-song under my breath.
Bianca glances at me from the desk. “He’s a big fish. You’ll want to keep him on the line.”
“This doesn’t feel icky to you?”
“We’re providing a service, Gia.”
I quickly scan his message, and my throat grows tight.I read an article that said I might be chatting with a teenage boy in India. How do I know this is really Glitter Girl?
Chewing my lip, it’s a valid question, but I can only reply with the truth.I am Glitter Girl, but I don’t know how to prove it.
The cursor blinks and then begins to move.Tell me something only she would know.
Wrinkling my nose, I think about this request. How would he know something only I would know? My eyes circle the room, and I think about my last performance at The Rhino.The last time I danced, a man stole my favorite shoe right off my foot.
The cursor blinks, and I have no idea if he’ll accept that answer. My internal defiance says if he doesn’t like it, he can chat with someone else. Then the nerves hit, and I’m afraid I’ll lose my biggest tipper.
His reply is not what I expected.What kind of shoe was it?
I’m not sure if he’s testing me, so I answer fast.Pink Valentino Mary Jane.