Moonlighter (The Company, #1)(6)

Max clicks his pen. “There’s actually no law against this particular hack. But my methods are a trade secret.”

“I understand completely.” Max knows all my secrets, too. I trust him with my life and my corporation.

He nods. “So, I’m going to explain what I did, because it’s instructive, not just for this moment, but for your own protection.”

“Okay.”

“First we determined that your ex likes pork buns, specifically the ones from this place around the corner from his building.”

“Ben’s Buns,” I say.

“That’s the place. So I built a little app that offers fifty percent off pork buns. We papered your ex’s car and apartment with flyers until we convinced him to download the app and try it out.”

“Excuse me,” Scout says with a mouth full of taco. “Who convinced him to try it out?”

Max chuckles. “Okay, fine. Scout was the brains of this part of the operation.” Their eyes meet, and there’s a moment of tension.

Hmm. Interesting.

“So…” Max turns to me again. “Your ex probably makes more than most people will ever have, but the man likes to save money on pork buns. He clicked through the Terms of Service on this app and ordered some pork.”

“Oh.” I think I know where this story is going.

“The TOS gave me the right to any and all data from his phone.”

“No shit?” Eric says. “You evil bastard.”

Max grins. “Yup. He’s ordered twenty-eight dollars worth of buns. So I purchased his digital footprint for fourteen bucks.”

“But how is that legal?” Eric asks.

Max shrugs. “If I used the data for, say, embezzlement or insider trading, then I’ll have broken the law. All I’ve done so far is to overstep the app store terms of service. I wrote an evil piece of software, but it passed their shitty quality review. That’s on them.”

“That’s…amazing,” I whisper.

“No.” Max shakes his head. “It’s really not. But this is the world we live in, Alex. Some of us understand how it actually works, and some of us don’t.”

Now there’s a sobering thought.

Carl Bayer clears his throat and then steers us all back to the topic at hand. “What is our comfort level with Mr. Tatum attending the Big Island Conference?”

“Very high,” Max responds. “His decision to attend was sudden. But now he holds a nonrefundable plane ticket. And just this morning he bought a new golf club for the trip.”

“What a party animal,” Eric mumbles. And if I weren’t so stressed out about seeing my ex at the conference, I’d laugh.

“Has he stopped trying to contact you?” Carl asks me.

I shake my head. “The last message was two days ago—the one I forwarded to you.” Carl nods. “None since then. But, of course, he mentioned the conference—and wanting to get back together.” I fight off a shudder.

“Right,” the older man says. “So that’s why we’re going to keep him away from you in Hawaii. Our goal is simple—minimal contact with Mr. Tatum. He’ll get no access. No extended verbal contact—nothing beyond a passing ‘hello,’ and no closer than ten feet. Not until he’s back in New York, anyway. That’s when we’ll approach him for further negotiations.”

“Negotiations?” Eric asks.

“That part is on a need-to-know basis,” his father says.

My face burns again. Nobody knows I’m pregnant. Jared Tatum has no idea. I’m going to eventually have to tell him, and convince him to sign away his custodial rights. There will probably be a great deal of money involved in this negotiation.

Carl Bayer and a lawyer are going to handle the whole thing. But I already feel dirty.

“There are a few ways we can work this at the conference,” Max Bayer says. “But one idea in particular stands out.”

“That I should just stay home?” I ask, looking away from the screen. The idea of trying to avoid Jared for a week straight exhausts me.

“You can if you wish,” Max says gently.

“No, I really can’t. I’ve bet my entire career on this product launch.” That’s not an exaggeration. “So, hit me with your second-best solution.” Although nothing short of time travel can fix the hideous mistake I made by trusting Jared Tatum.

“If Tatum thinks you’ve moved on, he’ll be less likely to bother you,” Carl says. “So your bodyguard for the week will play the part of your new boyfriend.”

“Your big, strong, grumpy, possessive boyfriend,” Max says with obvious glee.

“Oh, jeez.” I laugh, but it’s not a horrible idea. “So who’s playing the role of my…” I break off, because it hits me. Now I know exactly why Eric is at this meeting.

But when I glance at him, he’s staring intently at the top of his water bottle, as if something fascinating were printed there.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any more awkward.





3





Eric





“Max, you’re such an asshole. A first rate, manipulating, stinking pile of shit.”