A Matter of Trust (24 page)

“Have we got it fixed?” she asked as she crossed the room and pulled a chair over next to him.

“More or less—given the time frame. It will do for the short term.”

“Is it secure?”

“As much as it can be without installing iris or fingerprint recognition devices,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off the symbols on the screen.

Sloan looked at him with interest. “Do we have that?”

“No, but the Pentagon does,” he answered with a grin.

Sloan grinned, too. “We still have some friends in that neighborhood, don’t we?”

Jason turned, giving her a stern look. “We do, and I think we should work on keeping them for a while. Pirating national-security-level toys probably isn’t the best way to do it...not until we really need them, at least.”

“Probably a good point.” She nodded in agreement. “I’ve told Michael she can go ahead and start working. She has to get into the system to finish what she needs before her meeting Tuesday.”

“She should be all right. I’m just giving it a final run-through. I think everything is as clean and tight as we can make it. I still have back-checking on the virus origins to do, but that shouldn’t interfere with what she’s doing. I made copies of the code to analyze on the guinea pig machine back at the office.”

“Good. The sooner we know what it is and where it came from, the better. With these meetings of Michael’s coming up, I don’t trust someone not to try this again. If it’s someone on the inside, especially someone with
help,
she’s still vulnerable.”

“You think it’s Burke?”

“I do,” she said grimly. “And maybe Mayfield. He’s been less than forthcoming with assistance. Once we’re fully operational, I’ll stop in after hours when he’s not here to run the internal traces.” She paused, then added, “Let Michael know that you’ll be available day or night if something else comes up.”

“Is there some reason
you
won’t be available?” Jason shifted his concentration from the monitor, studying her curiously. “Incident response
is
your department. After this weekend, I’ll be more than happy to get back to the office. I don’t mind backing you up with tech support in an emergency, but the business end of things is easier on my social life.”

Her expression was unreadable and her violet eyes so dark they approached black. “Just do it, please, Jason,” she said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

She wasn’t sure what, if anything, she was going to do about Michael. She hadn’t expected last night to ever happen, and she surely had not anticipated her reaction to it. She had learned to accept the comfort of another in her bed as a momentary surcease from loneliness and a temporary antidote to isolation, but she had never again expected to be really touched by someone. That had been just fine, because she never again wanted to be vulnerable to the vagaries of another’s affections.

But Michael...Michael is different. She’s so open and so totally guileless. She’s so easy to care about...so easy to need.

“Did you two fight?”

“What?” Sloan laughed humorlessly. “No, we didn’t fight.”

It’s just that she’s touched me...touched my heart. And now those places ache. For her.
Sloan flinched without meaning to and tried to put Michael from her mind. “I’ll leave you to finish up.”

Jason wanted to say more, but there was something about her expression that warned him off. Usually, he did not hesitate to take Sloan to task for what he considered her uncivilized behavior in personal relationships.

This time, however, he sensed her still unhealed wounds very near the surface. Her eyes were haunted with old hurts. As much as she knew about his past, he knew about hers. They had both been betrayed by people they believed had loved them, and those betrayals had led to their professional discrediting. They rarely spoke of the past, but he knew firsthand how long the pain could linger. Whatever the situation with Michael, he had a feeling it was far more serious than Sloan wanted to admit.

Until a short time ago, he would have agreed with her reluctance to become seriously involved, her resistance to take that risk again. But meeting Sarah had changed everything about how he viewed matters of the heart. Sarah was teaching him that it was possible to be safe, even while exposing his deepest secrets. He hadn’t been ready for sex the night before, and he had worried that his reluctance would be seen as rejection. But Sarah had understood even that. She had left a note with his car keys on her way out of his apartment—
Ask Jasmine if she’ll go out dancing with me Saturday night.

It had taken Sarah and her singular sensitivity to lead him to the point of trust. It didn’t seem so impossible to him now that someone could do the same for Sloan. In fact, having watched Michael and Sloan together over the past weeks, he had glimpsed an entirely different Sloan. When she was around Michael, there was a tenderness and vulnerability about her that he had never seen before. It was almost as if Michael, without even realizing it, had awakened those parts of Sloan that she had kept hidden from everyone, including herself.

“Sloan?”

She turned at the door and looked back, a question on her face.

“Michael will wonder why you don’t call,” he said, unwilling to let her go without trying to change her mind. Loneliness was a heartless companion. He knew.

She stared at him, wondering if by some strange sixth sense he knew just how significant that statement was. She wasn’t thinking about business but the night that she and Michael had shared as she answered quietly, “I know, Jason. But maybe it’s the best thing.”

Wordlessly, Michael walked past Angela and pushed through the door into her office. She crossed to her desk and slumped into the tall leather chair behind it. Two minutes later, a knock sounded. Sighing, she said tiredly, “Come in.”

“So? Tell,” Angela demanded, crossing the room to lean against the front of Michael’s desk. She peered at her for a second, then asked, “You okay? You need anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” Michael rested her head against the back of the chair and allowing herself a few seconds of respite. And a few seconds was all she had. There was so much to do. Forcing herself upright, she smiled wanly. “We’re still in the running.”

“Congratulations,” Angela crowed. Hastily, she added, “I never doubted it.”

“Well, that makes one of us.” Michael pushed both hands through her hair, then shrugged her shoulders, still tight with tension. “That was the longest morning of my life.”

“Was Nick there?”

“Oh, he was there.”

“Was he—”

“Polite
was what he was,” Michael said with an expression of distaste. “Polite, condescending, and suggesting—ever so subtly—at every opportunity that
what
we had to sell wasn’t nearly as important as
how
we sell it.”

Angela snorted. “The old development-versus-marketing argument.”

“And in this case, my expertise versus his.” She rubbed her temples, trying hard to forget the thinly veiled loathing in his eyes. It shocked her still to realize how much he had changed, or maybe it had been her.
Both of us, probably.
Rationally, she knew that he felt threatened by the divorce, not personally, but financially, and perhaps that really did account for his animosity. No amount of soul-searching now was going to answer that question, and she had neither the time nor the inclination for it. She had moved on, moved beyond
him.
Sighing again, she added, “Today at least, I had an answer. I presented the prospectus for the automotive project, and I had preliminary bargaining points already ironed out.”

“Ha,” Angela cheered. “Covering
both
sides of the field. I’ll bet he was surprised.”

“I think he was surprised that I was able to put it all together in time for today’s managers’ meeting,” Michael mused, remembering the look of astonishment on his face when she’d begun her presentation. “I have a feeling he expected me to have been delayed by
technical
difficulties.”

“Like a network failure, maybe?” Angela asked astutely. “You don’t really think I believed that Sloan’s crew slept here all weekend for nothing, do you?”

Michael looked at her sharply. “Who else knows?”

“No one. I sent out the memo on Friday like you requested about the routine system maintenance and then a follow-up bulletin yesterday saying the
upgrades
were complete.”

“Thanks. I didn’t think of that.”

“You were a little busy.”

“Yes. And now I’m
a lot
busy. I’m sure Nicholas is not going to just walk away after one small skirmish.”

“What next?”

“You mean in addition to the open accounts I’ve still got to work on and finalizing the agreements with him about the divorce and the business?” She smiled ruefully. “I want to get back to what I do best—design. But before I do that, I’m going to need you to pull some personnel files.” At Angela’s questioning expression, she added, “It’s time to start looking for Nicholas’s replacement.”

“Just say the word,” Angela replied as she turned for the door. “I’ll gladly work overtime free of charge for that.”

“Angela...”

Angela turned expectantly.

“Has Sloan called?”

“No messages. Do you need me to get her for you?”

“No,” Michael said quickly. “If she—”
If she had wanted to talk to me, she would have called.
“Thanks, but don’t bother.”

The door closed behind Angela and she was finally alone. Eyes closed, it wasn’t her morning’s victory she considered. It was the sound of Sloan’s voice and the memory of making love with her.

One night. One night to live on—for how long?

*

During the first five minutes of the match, Sarah managed to land two respectable blows solidly on Sloan’s jaw, then executed a leg sweep that knocked her definitively on her ass. Subsequently, she stepped back out of fighting range, dropped her hands, and stared at her friend.

“Would you care to tell me where your mind is?”

“It’s nothing.” Sloan shook her head, getting slowly to her feet. “Come on, let’s spar.”

“Uh-uh. Not so fast.” It was Sarah’s turn to shake her head. “Sloan, you know how much I love any opportunity to beat up on you, but it’s just no fun when you’re defenseless. What’s wrong?”

Sloan’s first impulse was to deny any problem. She didn’t want to think about anything, let alone try to explain her state of mind to Sarah. But her old friend was too damn perceptive and too damn persistent to let anything go. The moment Sarah noticed the slightest bit of inconsistency or evasiveness, she worked away at it until the whole damn barricade fell and every secret Sloan ever had was laid bare for her inspection.
Granted, she’s always given me just the support I need, but this is one time I do
not
want to hear what Sarah has to say.

“If you don’t want to spar, let’s just lift for a while,” Sloan grumbled, turning toward the door that led into the weight room. She was surprised when she felt Sarah’s hand on her arm, restraining her gently. She sighed and looked over her shoulder at the redhead. Sarah’s eyes were affectionate and reassuring. “What?”

“Come on, Sloan. I know damn well something’s going on, and I’m pretty sure I know what it is. It’s Wednesday night, and you haven’t been into the office all week. Jason told me this morning that you’ve been AWOL since Sunday afternoon. Want to tell me what’s happening?”

“Not especially.” Sloan spoke more sharply than she intended, and realizing it, added, “Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice, but sometimes you’re too pigheaded to see it,” Sarah retorted, a slight smile on her face.

Sloan took a long, deep breath, crossed to the side of the room, and flopped down on a pile of exercise mats that had been stacked along the wall. Sarah joined her and waited expectantly.

“It’s nothing as dramatic as you’re imagining,” Sloan said at length. She was lying on her back, arms behind her head, staring resolutely at the ceiling. “We’ve been running at a fast pace all spring, and after this latest thing with Michael, I just wanted a little break.”

She was amazed that she could mention Michael’s name without stumbling, because thinking about Michael made her pulse jump, and saying her name out loud brought a lump to her throat. She had, in fact, spent the better part of three days trying not to think about her. That had been largely unsuccessful, since there were only so many things she could find to occupy her mind, and even then her concentration was sketchy. At least a dozen times a day she would glance at the clock, wondering if Michael was in a meeting, or how her project presentations were progressing, or if Nicholas had appeared on the scene to cause more problems. At least twice an hour, she would find herself with the phone in her hand, ready to call Jason at Innova for an update. But then Michael might answer, and if she heard her voice...

Each time she had gently placed the phone back in its cradle, realizing that if she took one step in Michael’s direction, she would not be able to stop. And she wasn’t sure that was a good idea at all. The problem was, she wasn’t sure of anything, and that was as confusing to her as anything else that had happened since meeting Michael.