Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(27)
When I get to the point where I can’t walk any further without the risk of being seen, I stop.
“What makes you think that?” Ben asks.
There’s a long silence from Caleb, before he finally says, “She was just…carrying that bag around with her everywhere.”
God, they are talking about me. And about my suspicious behavior with my bag, which…well, it can’t be good.
“I can’t blame her for not wanting to leave it at a hotel. My laptop is my livelihood too, and there isn’t a chance in hell that I’d leave it where anyone who had access to my room could take it.”
“I’m sure that drives Oliver crazy,” he replies with an amused lilt in his voice.
“I’ve told him about it several times. He’s always got some kind of rebuttal about how he screens his employees, and has top-of-the-line room safes, but I take an extreme stance on the safety of my electronics: trust no one.”
“Still,” Caleb continues. “She carried that bag around like it was the only thing she owned.”
“What would be wrong with that?” Ben asks.
I barely even know the guy, and I feel like I have an ally. He could just be riling Caleb up by coming up with counterpoints to all of his concerns, but even the illusion that someone’s in my corner feels nice. I like Ben more than I already did.
“I don’t know,” Caleb replies. “Don’t you think she’d have some furniture stored somewhere? Or have movers bringing it here from Chicago? Something?”
“Have you ever asked if she has furniture stored somewhere? Or if movers are bringing it here from Chicago?”
This conversation is making me uneasy. Of course, I have given Caleb reason to be at least a little suspicious of me, what with the staying in hotels and carrying that damned bag everywhere. I had foolishly hoped that he wouldn’t ever raise those suspicions. The good thing is that he doesn’t sound angry about it; he’s just trying to talk it out with his friend. I suppose I should be thankful for that; at least now I won’t be blindsided if any of this ever comes up in conversation.
“I’m really trying not to push her too hard.”
“I get it,” Ben replies. “Maybe there are some things you should push, though.”
Now I feel even worse than I already did about not being totally honest with him. He’s offered me a place to stay despite his misgivings, and…god, I’m just so lucky to have met him. I’d be lucky anyway, but with the situation I’m in? It’s the biggest blessing imaginable.
“Speaking of pushing, you really should talk her into letting me see some of her work. I’ve got this new project that I’m starting, and I’m short-handed. I need someone who knows what they’re doing and can jump into the deep end right away.”
“Yeah,” Caleb says distractedly. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I’ve listened to too much, and overstepped my bounds enough for one day. I sneak down the hallway, and back into the bedroom, where I strip off Caleb’s shirt and head straight into the bathroom. I need some time to think, and standing under the steady spray of a shower head always seems to do the trick. Once the water is steaming hot, just the way I like it, I step inside the shower.
As I wash the hospital off, I try to figure out what exactly I’m going to do when Caleb starts asking questions.
It seems like I’m running out of time.
* * * * *
My eyes are glued to the top-of-the-line, custom-built laptop that Caleb just placed in front of me on the dining room table. It’s the nicest one I’ve ever had; even nicer than the one I built myself with special-ordered parts that I spent months saving up for. This thing runs like a dream. I’m half expecting a ray of light to shine down on it from heaven, complete with a choir of angels singing in the background. That’s how amazing this laptop is.
“How did you get this?” I ask. The person that built this beauty has some serious computer know-how. It’s not exactly surprising that Caleb would have access to something like this, but to get it on such short notice is impressive.
Caleb grins at me, and shrugs. “I asked Ben if he could put something together for you. I knew you’d need a new one after…after.”
It hasn’t escaped my notice that Caleb has trouble actually voicing what happened to me. He seems to do just fine until he gets to the part where he needs to utter the word “robbed.” Maybe it’s not necessarily an issue for him; maybe he’s worried that saying the word is going to cause me some kind of undue stress. I have to admit that even now, days later, when the swelling is going down and the bruises are fading, I can admit that it’s a little amusing that for as much as I worried about Privya tracking me down here, I got hurt by a common street criminal.
“I can’t accept this, Caleb,” I tell him. There isn’t any conviction behind my refusal, because I don’t really mean it. This machine is beautiful, and I need it almost as much as I need air. Apart from wanting to keep my tracking programs running, I do have actual work to finish for a few clients. I need the income, but Caleb has already been far too generous with me. He’s taking care of my hospital tab, he’s given me a place to stay…this seems like too much.
“The way you’re looking at it says otherwise,” he replies, and I can hear his pleased grin in his voice.