The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair #1)(38)

“Not . . . really. Go ahead and sit down. I’ll get us drinks first before I explain.” When he returns from the bar with two beers, he asks, “Are you familiar with Genesis Software?”

“I know the name,” I reply slowly. “All I know about them is what I heard on the news last year. They caused that big data breach—”

“More like we were blamed for it.”

The edge in Austin’s tone surprises me, coming from a guy who’s usually so laid-back and friendly. Then I realize what he just let slip.

“Wait, we? You work for Genesis?”

“My father owns it. And when Aspen Hotels bad-mouthed us to the press, he lost almost everything. Our stock price nose-dived, and we had to lay off six-thousand employees.”

My stomach sinks, and my brain struggles to catch up with his accusation. “You blame Aspen for this?”

“Your CEO—Dominic, was it? His official stance was that the breach at Aspen was our fault, and since the moment he said that, everything’s been crumbling.”

This is headed nowhere good. I work for Aspen, and that’s where my allegiance lies. I’m hoping to win a spot on the management team. Which means I shouldn’t be here.

I push out my chair. “I should probably go.”

Austin’s eyes widen to puppy-dog proportions. “Wait! Please don’t go. I have a request, a simple one. Just hear me out.”

I’m on my feet; I should already be walking away.

But despite myself, I ask, “What could you possibly want from me? I’m sorry to hear your business is going under, I really am, but I have nothing to do with this. I haven’t even been working there for a full month yet.”

“I know. I just . . . God, it sounds petty when I say it out loud, but I need you to insert this into his laptop.” Before I can back away, he presses a jump drive into my hand.

“What is this?”

“A small virus,” he says, as if it’s something completely innocuous.

I narrow my eyes. “If it’s so small, why do you want me to release it so badly? What will it do?”

“It’ll prove to him that he’s not the god he thinks he is. He’s not immune; his systems can become corrupt, too, and our software isn’t the bullshit he claimed it was.”

“And why on earth would I jeopardize the company where I’m trying to start my career?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll still have a job. This won’t destroy Aspen, just scare Dominic a little. And I’ll pay you enough to make it worth your risk. Didn’t you mention you had high expenses?”

“There’s no amount of money that could—”

“Please, Presley. I need you to take this for me. It’s the right thing to do.”

I dodge his attempt to rest a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, but no way.”

“At least think it over. Read this dossier . . .” He sets down a paper-stuffed folder marked with the Genesis logo. “Decide for yourself if we really are the villains he painted us to be.”

I don’t need to think it over. But before I can toss his crap back at him, Austin is already gone, leaving me alone with the folder on the table and the jump drive burning in my hand.

I should just throw them both in the trash. No way in hell would I ever infect Dominic’s computer. He might be a douchebag when it comes to women, but he’s still a skilled CEO, and more importantly, Aspen Hotels doesn’t deserve to go down. At least I don’t think they do…

At the same time, though, it sounds like there’s a lot more to the Genesis story than I was led to believe. Austin has managed to pique my curiosity.

After a minute of hesitation, I stuff it all into my bag to take home. As soon as I get an uninterrupted evening of spare time, I’ll read his intel and then dispose of it. At the very least, I can find out the truth.





Chapter Seventeen


Dominic



Presley is avoiding me. Again. We’re back to square one. She’s made it a point to take any path in the office that doesn’t cross my door. I haven’t seen her for longer than three seconds at a time all week long. She’s just working hard, I keep telling myself.

“Extra points for giving good head.”

What the fuck was that? I completely reverted to the frat boy I never intended to be. Speaking of which— “Got a sec?” Oliver asks, poking his head through my doorway.

I’ve been staring at my in-box, unable to focus on any one task long enough to do work. A second won’t hurt. I wave him in.

As always, Oliver makes himself at home right away. In less than a minute, the door is closed and ice is clinking at the bottom of a fresh glass of scotch. With a heaving sigh, Oliver sinks into the wingback chair across from my desk.

Suddenly, I’m hit with the sensation of déjà vu. We were in this exact same place only two weeks ago. I chuckle.

“What?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing.” I sigh. What a simpler time.

Oliver stares at me over the rim of his tumbler. “Hmm.”

“What?” It’s my turn to ask.

“What’d you do to piss off your intern?”

“What are you talking about?”