White-Hot Hack (Kate and Ian #2)
Tracey Garvis Graves
PROLOGUE
The man in the business suit looked up from his phone when the tall blonde pushed through the glass doors of the office building, the rapid clicking of her high heels reverberating through the lobby as she hurried toward the receptionist.
She hoisted her shoulder bag a little higher and set a cup of coffee and sheet of paper on the counter. “I have a ten o’clock interview with Christopher Hill. I’m so sorry I’m late. There was an accident on the Beltway.” She sounded panicked and slightly out of breath.
He watched her with interest from his seat directly across from the reception desk. Arriving thirty minutes early for his appointment had left him with a severe case of boredom, and he welcomed the distraction.
“Please have a seat. I’ll let Mr. Hill know you’re here,” the receptionist said.
As the woman turned to go, her elbow hit the coffee cup. Though they both reacted, neither she nor the receptionist moved fast enough to catch it before it spilled. There wasn’t enough coffee left in the cup to make a truly embarrassing mess, but it was enough to ruin the piece of paper lying on the counter.
“You have got to be kidding me,” the woman said, her voice carrying more than a trace of hopeless exasperation. She pulled a tissue out of her bag and dabbed at the liquid, then held up the stained document. “That was my last copy.”
“Résumé?” the receptionist asked. She looked old enough to be the woman’s mother, and her expression was kind and empathetic.
The woman blew out a breath and raised her fingers to her temple as if she felt the beginning of a headache. “Yes.”
He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.
“Hold on a minute,” the woman said, sounding hopeful. She rooted around in her bag again, and when she withdrew her hand, she waved a USB drive triumphantly in the air. “I have the document saved on this. Could you please print me another copy? I hate not having my employment information at my fingertips, and I really need to nail this interview, especially since I’m late.”
The receptionist hesitated as if she seemed a bit uncomfortable with the request. But before she could protest, the woman leaned over the counter and pressed the USB drive into her palm. Then she pointed to a picture on the desk. “Whose baby is that? I’ve never seen such a beautiful child. He could model for baby-food ads.” She picked up the silver frame and took a closer look.
A look of pride spread across the receptionist’s face. “That’s my grandson. My daughter-in-law entered that picture in a contest. We haven’t heard anything yet.”
The woman leaned against the counter but did not make eye contact, keeping her focus on the picture instead. “He’s a shoo-in to win. Those dimples are to die for.” She sighed and mustered a faint smile. “It’s amazing how a picture of a baby can brighten your day, especially when it’s going so badly.”
The receptionist waited, the USB drive held awkwardly in her hand, but finally she inserted it into her computer, and moments later the printer whirred to life and spit out a piece of paper.
“You’re a lifesaver,” the woman said, holding out her hand for the résumé and tucking the USB drive safely back into her bag.
“It’s no problem. If you’ll take a seat, I’ll let Mr. Hill know you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
The woman sat down next to him, giving him a nod and a smile. She held the résumé loosely, careful not to crease it, and waited patiently.
The receptionist looked worried when she hung up the phone. “Miss? I’m sorry. Mr. Hill is not actually in the office today.”
The woman rose and walked toward the reception desk. “I don’t understand.” She sounded utterly defeated.
“His secretary said he took the day off. There aren’t any appointments on his calendar.”
She seemed to deflate. “Well, I guess I don’t have to be embarrassed about showing up late. The only thing more embarrassing than showing up late is showing up on the wrong day. I’ll double-check my notes. I must have written it down wrong. Thank you. You’ve been more than kind. I hope your grandson wins the contest.”
He caught a glimpse of the woman’s pink cheeks as she turned to go, and she left the building as quickly as she’d entered it.
He put away his phone and approached the desk, giving the receptionist a thousand-watt smile. “I’m sorry. I’ve been called away unexpectedly and won’t be able to stay for my meeting with Mr. Matthews.”
She smiled back at him. “Would you like me to deliver a message?”
He handed her a white card with the word SUCCEDO on the front in raised black lettering. “Please see that he receives this as soon as possible, and tell him I’ll be available by phone after two p.m. He has my number.”
The man left the building and headed for the parking garage to his left. The temperature was still in the high fifties and quite mild for early November, but the colder weather he loathed would arrive all too soon.
The woman who was having a colossally bad day was up ahead, walking a little slower now. He followed her into the garage and quickened his stride, catching up to her on the landing of the stairwell that connected the first and second levels. When he was close enough to reach out and touch her, she turned around and they slapped their palms together in a victorious high five. Ian pulled Kate into his arms and squeezed her tight.