About That Night (FBI/US Attorney #3)(74)
Donello’s gaze was steely. “You’ve got forty seconds left, so finish whatever it is you’ve come to say. If nothing else, it’ll give me something laughable to tweet about later.”
Kyle sat forward in his chair. “I’ve read all the interviews, Donello. When you took over the company a year ago, you pledged to focus on Twitter as a business by turning what has become a massive communication network into a major advertising platform. You’ve emphasized the need for reliability—yet I managed to shut you down for forty-eight hours from a single computer while half-drunk on Scotch.”
Donello rested his arms on his desk. “So your proposal is that I hire you, the guy who made us look like clueless dickheads seven months ago, and pay your company some outrageous consulting fee to come in here and fix our security problems? That’s what you’re suggesting?”
“Yes.” Kyle held his gaze. “Except I’ll do it for free.”
Donello paused at that. “For free.”
“I’ll build a goddamn cyber-fortress around this place—and it won’t cost you a penny. I figure I owe you that, at least.”
Donello studied him and then leaned back in his chair. He spoke slowly, musing aloud. “You want the publicity that will come with this.”
The corners of Kyle’s mouth turned up in a smile. His sixty seconds were up, yet there he still sat. “Yes. And so do you.”
TWO HOURS LATER, the CEO of Rhodes Network Consulting LLC walked out of that modern, six-story office building having landed the company’s first client.
True, the client wasn’t paying him, but Kyle was a happy man nevertheless. As he’d hoped, at the end of the day Donello had acted like the businessman he was and seized on the unique opportunity Kyle had offered: better security and a ton of free publicity that would highlight that fact. They’d even worked out the wording of a joint press release that would be sent to the media at eight a.m. Eastern time the following morning.
Now it was time for Kyle to implement the second phase of his marketing strategy. After his arrest and conviction, and then again after his release from prison, he’d been bombarded by interview requests from virtually every media outlet—yet he’d never answered so much as a single question.
But he’d held on to the contact information for one particular person who’d asked for an interview for just this occasion.
Standing on the sidewalk in front of Twitter’s headquarters, Kyle dialed the cell phone number of David Isaac, correspondent from Time magazine. After getting the reporter’s voicemail, he left a message.
“David, it’s Kyle Rhodes. There’s going to be a press release tomorrow morning—you’ll know it when you hear it. If you can get me the cover, I’ll give you an exclusive. The whole sordid story, directly from the mouth of the Twitter Terrorist. Trust me, you won’t want to miss the part about the cactus in Tijuana.”
Twenty-nine
FOR THE SECOND time since Rylann had starting working in Chicago, the U.S. Attorney’s Office was abuzz over Kyle Rhodes.
She had, of course, heard the story that had set the Internet on fire earlier that Tuesday morning: that the Twitter Terrorist and Twitter had kissed and made up. She’d been in her kitchen, eating Rice Krispies and catching up on the news on her iPad, when she’d read about the press release. She’d laughed out loud, then had immediately texted Kyle:
SO THAT’S WHAT YOU’VE BEEN UP TO.
She hadn’t expected a response given how busy she assumed he was, but to her surprise she’d received a message back within minutes.
NO CLUE WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, COUNSELOR. I’LL CALL WHEN I GET BACK TONIGHT.
Sitting at her desk, Rylann looked up when she heard a knock at her office door and saw Cade standing in her doorway with a wry expression.
“I’ve received over two dozen phone calls from the press today, asking what I think about the fact that the Twitter Terrorist is starting his own network security company.” He shook his head. “Just when I thought we’d finally seen the end of that guy.”
He said the words offhandedly, just a casual remark, but Rylann nevertheless felt…sneaky. A little guilty, even. While she generally believed that a person’s personal life wasn’t anyone’s business but her own, she also didn’t like deceiving people. After working with Cade for nearly two months, she considered him a friend—they went on Starbucks runs together, they talked case strategy, and she’d even tried to set him up with Rae. But now here she was, about to lie to the guy.
You’re not lying. You’re just avoiding the truth.
Apparently, her subconscious had a lot easier time splitting hairs than she did.
Then maybe it’s time to say adios to Kyle.
Apparently, her subconscious was also a waffling, capricious bitch.
Rylann threw on a smile for Cade’s benefit, pushing aside the self-reflection and inner turmoil for a time when her lover’s nemesis wasn’t standing in the doorway.
“Wow, two dozen calls,” she said. “I bet that was fun to wade through.”
“A real hoot. Rhodes is like a boomerang around here—he keeps coming back again and again.” He grinned. “I bet you’re glad you don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
Right. She wondered if Cade would consider seven rounds of hot and steamy sex within the definition of “deal with.”