“Are you saying that’s what I do?”
I blew a breath in irritation. “That’s definitely what you do.”
“Okay.” He tilted his head as he thought about it. “I guess I do. And yet, you’re going to a damn party because you work for one of the largest corporations in the United States and haven’t had a cyberattack or data breach in a whole year.”
Stonewood Enterprises threw a couple of extravagant annual parties. I’d heard it was because one of the wives felt it was good for morale, but he was right. We were being rewarded for our expertise.
“Because we’re damn good at what we do,” I emphasized.
“Yes, and because your boss runs a tight ship. Or would you like to disagree and go back to working for the government?”
I truly hated him, but I couldn’t continue pushing my limits. At the end of the day, I couldn’t risk losing a job under Cade Armanelli.
His hands were in everything. He controlled the digital world of the United States. If I lost a job here, I’d lose the potential to work anywhere of significance in data security.
That’s what his last name meant.
Control. Prestige. Power. And fear.
“I’m not disagreeing with anything you’re saying, Mr. Armanelli.” I scoffed.
“Glad we got that out of the way.” He waited a beat. “Now, are you ready to go to the party or are you planning another outburst?”
My hand itched to use the spray can again, but I couldn’t let this night get any worse.
Maybe Gerald was right about some things. Dating someone like me couldn’t be easy. Protecting my mental health and sobriety always came first, even when it meant standing up for myself.
I didn’t look good on paper. Yet I was proud of the person I’d become.
I sighed as I leaned into the railing of the elevator and tried not to let Gerald’s words, or this night, get to me. I turned away from Cade and faced a wall of nothing as I took a couple of deep breaths. “Give me a minute.”
Two tears, or maybe three or four, fell before I sniffled softly and wiped them away. I was going to enjoy this damn night, even if these two men had tried their damnedest to ruin it.
Cade didn’t give me any time. Suddenly the elevator was moving. He’d swiped the fob, like he’d had control of the elevator the whole time.
“Did you stop the elevator in the first place?”
He smiled and lowered the mask back onto his face.
Hatred wasn’t strong enough for what I felt for him.
I hurried out of the elevator, then turned to glare at him again.
But he was gone. He’d vanished into the thick of the crowd, nowhere to be seen amid the bright flashing lights, the glitter flying around, and the thumping rave music.
3
Izzy
Wall-to-wall windows showcased the city below us and reflected the strobing party lights while the music pumped to a wild, infectious rhythm.
This wasn’t your average work party. It was a Stonewood party on top of the tallest building in the United States in an extravagant revolving-restaurant-turned-themed-club. An emcee announced how the next song should get people moving, and a host wearing a fairy costume sauntered up with a tray of drinks that appeared to have mist wafting from them.
“Welcome to Neverland.” She glanced at a tablet and then back at me. “You must be doing the twist on superhero costumes with the data team tonight, right?”
I smiled and shrugged, not catching on to what she was saying.
She continued on after looking at her tablet. “Izzy Hardy, your work in cybersecurity this year was phenomenal. You single-handedly avoided numerous data breaches, handled much of the IT, and aided in building JUNIPER.”
She definitely had all the details about my job on that device. JUNIPER was a security infrastructure to protect against breaches in Chicago PD’s system. I’d worked very hard on it, mostly because my manager, Juda, had no idea how advanced hackers had gotten.
I cleared my throat. “It was a team effort.”
She smirked. “Yes, I believe you work with Cade, right? He also always credits a team effort when we try to pay him a compliment. But he’s the one who put in this comment about you.” I saw her smirk even as she tried to hide it.
That had me looking at her in puzzlement. Was she talking about the same guy who hadn’t shown up to his office in nearly a year? Without thought, my gaze searched the party for him, like suddenly I was a sick puppy wanting the attention and praise of a neglectful owner.
“Would you like a fairy dusting?” the lady murmured, holding up the tray.
I shook my head. Alcohol had never been a problem for me, but I didn’t indulge when I was at a work event. It wasn’t worth the risk. “I’m not drinking tonight.”
“Oh, right. We have nonalcoholic beverages at the bar.” She scrunched her nose like she didn’t have anyone in her life who would pass on the opportunity to have some fun.
I nodded, hoping she’d leave my side soon. I didn’t need a rundown of the party events. I was there to be a good team player and then get back to work. “Right.”
“And the costume contest, which you have a great shot at winning, will take place at—”
“I won’t be participating,” I said, trying to smile as I walked past her to find my team.
There were clusters of people everywhere. Considering Stonewood Enterprises ran hundreds of companies, this party was bound to fill the restaurant to capacity. I didn’t know many faces at all because working in cybersecurity normally meant we stayed at our computers on our own floor most of the day.
“Izzy Bizzy!” Lucas Cavanaugh bellowed so loud half the restaurant glanced his way.
The smile that flew across my face at hearing his voice was probably the first one I’d had all day. No worries attached to it, no concerns that he didn’t want me there. Lucas was a breath of fresh air to anyone who met him.
“Lucas, you’re too loud,” I grumbled as he pulled me in for a hug. He was dressed as Thor and pulled it off perfectly with his golden hair and strong build.
At his side, Cassie—dressed as Wonder Woman—frowned at me. “Izzy, our team was supposed to be superheroes!”
I glanced around. Sure enough, Braxton was Batman and Penelope was Catwoman. Isaac, who talked to everyone even less than I did because he was always bent over his computer, was dressed as Spiderman.
“How did I miss the memo?” I frowned. “In all fairness, Harley can be a superhero.”
Lucas kept his arm around me and squeezed my shoulders. “The memo was entitled Team Costume Party Plan, so you probably didn’t read it. Cassie, if you want Izzy to read something, you have to title it Alert: Work Breach or some shit.”
I rolled my eyes as everyone laughed. “I’m not that bad.”
“Really?” Penelope was the newest on the team, but we didn’t talk much. She seemed to be enjoying her nearly empty drink and had the confidence to speak up. “I never talk to you because you seem so driven to get things done.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Lucas beat me to it. “She’s a workaholic, but she’s never let us down. She’s always saving our asses when we can’t figure out something.”
Blushing, I looked down and let my pigtails fall in front of my face. “Everyone’s giving me a lot of credit, but we all kicked ass this year.”
“Oh my God, right?” Cassie’s drink sloshed as she shoved it into the middle of our bar table and held it high. “Cheers to our impenetrable data barrier.”
Everyone hooted and hollered, throwing their glasses in too.
Lucas eyed me as he slurped down his drink while our team dispersed to talk amongst themselves feverishly. “Not drinking?”
I shrugged, not sure I wanted to bring down the night by sharing where my head was at.
“Something wrong, Izzy?” Lucas had been on my team since the day I started at Stonewood Enterprises. He’d been in the advertising department but had found me in the work break room one day, scrolling the Narcotics Anonymous program on my phone.
The man asked me to be his sponsor right then and there. I hadn’t known if he didn’t have many friends or if he was hitting on me. Turned out he just needed a good friend. He worked a lot of hours and had moved from Georgia, fresh out of rehab, after being honorably discharged from active duty when his Humvee was attacked overseas. He’d come to work at Stonewood Enterprises after meeting one of the Stonewood brothers when they’d given a motivational speech at his rehab center.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I told him. “I just hate parties.”
Unlike Lucas, I was good at respecting people’s boundaries. He’d told me early on that he’d share his trauma when he was ready. It took him months to confide in me about his PTSD, how he got addicted to prescription meds, and how he fought every day to stay off them.
As for him asking me questions, he had no boundaries whatsoever. “Did your dick of a boyfriend do something?”