Loving You Easy

Ren groaned. “Send them there for now and then look in the directory. We’ve worked with a temp service before. Call them and see if they can get us a receptionist for the day. After that, go help with the server. That’s priority number one.”

Malik nodded. “Right. Got it.”

“And what happened to the woman who wanted to talk to me?” Ren hiked his messenger bag higher on his shoulder.

Malik jabbed his thumb toward the door that led to the executive offices. “I didn’t know what to do with her and she was . . . persistent, so I just told her to sit outside your office and wait.”

Ren rubbed his forehead. “Of course.”

Because letting a stranger without an appointment into the office was an excellent idea. But Ren kept the comment to himself. The fact that the kid had attempted to handle front office operations when that was clearly out of his comfort zone deserved some credit.

Malik punched a few buttons on the phone. “How do I get this to roll over to voice mail? Goddamn, does it ever stop ringing?”

“Just leave it. I’ve got it.” Ren leaned over the desk and hit the button that would put it in overnight mode. “By the way, Malik, this is our CFO and co-owner, Hayes Fox. Say hi and then get to the server.”

Hayes, who’d been silently watching the meltdown, lifted a hand in a stoic greeting.

Malik paused at that, his eyes going owlish. If Ren were drawing him, he’d have put a little thought box with expletive symbols above Malik’s head. “Oh, um, hi, Mr. Fox. Nice to meet you.”

“Hayes is fine,” he said, voice gruff.

Malik nodded but didn’t look like he’d be calling Hayes by his first name anytime soon. He made some vague motion with his hand. “Uh, I’m going to go and help Chelsea.”

“Yes. Do that.” Ren watched the guy hurry back through the door and then turned to Hayes with a smirk. “So, welcome back.”

Hayes lifted his brows and crossed his arms over his chest, stretching the white Henley tighter across his shoulders. “Is it always on fire like this?”

Ren shrugged. “Nah, only about fifty percent of the time. I had to cut the staff down in the last year to try to save some money. It works for the most part but gets insane when anyone’s out.”

Hayes frowned.

But Ren didn’t want to get into how the business had declined after Hayes had gone to prison or how Ren had spent a big chunk of their profits on the lawyers and investigators who’d gotten Hayes’s conviction overturned. They had both seen the numbers. If Ren hadn’t renamed the company and introduced Hayven to the market two years ago, the company would’ve gone under.

It’d been the right move even though he’d had to go behind Hayes’s back to do it. When Ren had told Hayes about his idea for the game, Hayes had told Ren to scrub it. Think how it will look, he’d said. But Ren had gone against his wishes, named the game after Hayes, and had set up a separate company front that tied the game only to Ren to make it harder for the media to make the connection. Then he’d brought it to market like a big, blazing fuck you to all those people who thought Hayes was guilty.

It had saved the company from closing up shop, but they still had a ways to go to get robust again. He needed to get Hayes involved in the daily operation so that Ren could spend more time on game enhancements and developments instead of being the firefighter all the time.

“Come on.” Ren opened the door and they headed to the left, where the executive offices were located. He didn’t want to go through the trouble of introducing Hayes to everyone yet. The place was in crisis mode, and Hayes wouldn’t be ready for that song and dance anyway. He put a hand on Hayes’s shoulder when they got to his old office. “Why don’t you get settled in, get things back how you want them, and I’ll go see what random-persistent-woman-off-the-street wants?”

Hayes eyeballed his closed office door like it was going to explode and then looked back to Ren. “Tell that kid not to send strangers back here anymore. What if it’s some ex of yours or something? She could be burning your office down in revenge as we speak.”

Ren laughed. “She could just add it to the rest of the fires. But yeah, I’ll let him know.”

Hayes blew out a breath and grabbed the door handle. “How bad is it going to be in here?”

“Do the words ‘additional storage area’ mean anything to you?”

“Fuck.”

Ren glanced down the hallway. “I’ll stop by in a while and help you haul some of that shit out of there.”

Hayes shook his head and went into the room. Despite the curse that followed once Hayes saw the state of his office, something buoyed in Ren’s chest. Hayes was back.

Well, physically at least.

Ren left him to it and headed around the corner to his own office. Sitting in the chair outside his door was a woman who had her head down as she typed furiously on her phone and bounced her jean-clad knee. Not an ex. He didn’t really have those anyway. He never stuck with anyone long enough to get to the labels portion of coupledom. But something about her seemed familiar.

He set his bag down on his assistant Collin’s desk, strode over, patience low, and looked down. “Can I help you?”

The woman startled, so involved in whatever she’d been doing that she hadn’t noticed him approach. But when she lifted her head, the sight jolted his system like an electric shock, and the night before came crashing back.

No fucking way.

Hallway girl? She was wearing glasses today and less makeup, but there was no doubt it was her. Dark wavy hair that looked like she’d taken a dip in the ocean and let it dry in the breeze, the ghost of childhood freckles across her nose, and big hazel eyes he’d never forget.

His mind couldn’t process the two things, the spheres colliding. The woman from the party at his job. She’d sought him out? He hadn’t even told her his name. And last night she hadn’t been able to get away from him fast enough.

But the way she was staring at him told a different story. Her eyes had gone wide and her bottom lip hung open like it’d forgotten how to close. She hadn’t been looking for him. She was as surprised as he was. “Uh . . . I was waiting for Mr. Muroya.”

Her knuckles went white around her phone and she tipped forward in the seat like she wanted to run, the heels of her Chuck Taylors lifting off the ground. She’d already figured out that he was the guy she’d come to see, and she wanted to bail.

Too bad he was standing in her way.

He smiled, slow and pleased. “Is that right?”

Last night, he’d been more than a little intrigued by the woman who had so boldly watched him with Naomi. He’d been doing a friend a favor, playing a part in a scene, which should’ve been fun, especially when they were doing it at a professional party instead of at The Ranch. But beyond the obvious pleasure of a blow job, he hadn’t been able to get into the right headspace for the scene. A problem he’d been having way too often lately.

Then, he’d looked up and found this woman watching, and everything about the scene had flipped. Energy had surged through him, his body had come alive, and his dominant instincts had rushed forward. Being watched was a kink of his, but this had been something altogether different. The way she’d been looking at him . . . There’d been fear there, that knee-jerk reaction to being caught, but there’d been something else, too. Something that had made him want to call her over, to give her the very thing her eyes were asking him for. Then she’d run off. And when he’d approached her in the light of the party, she’d been bordering on hostile. The way she’d acted had made him think he’d read her all wrong. So when the blonde had rushed up to save her, he’d figured hot mystery woman had a girlfriend, that he’d been barking up the wrong tree.

Now she was here. And the color that appeared in her cheeks after her gaze quickly skimmed down his body told him a different story. Right tree.

The morning had just gotten infinitely more interesting. “Guess you’re in luck. I’m Ren Muroya.”

Her eyes closed, her worst fear obviously confirmed. “Of course you are.”

He couldn’t help but grin wider at her fuck-my-life expression. “So, Cora, Lady of the Dark Hallway, what exactly can I help you with?”

—

Fuck. My. Life.

Cora didn’t know what she’d done in a previous existence, but apparently it’d been evil because the universe was screwing with her. She’d spent all morning tracking down the head of Restless Games, first calling a number that never picked up, then going to an address that turned out to be just a mailbox, and finally having to go through more computer detective work than she was in the mood for to find the parent company and where it was located. After that, she’d had to wait an hour in this office. Now, she’d finally found who she was looking for and it was this guy.

Blow-job guy.

Or as the world knew him—Ren Muroya, CEO and co-owner of FoxRen Media and, apparently, Restless Games.

She cleared her throat, trying her damnedest to erase last night from her mind and focus on the business at hand. This was serious. She didn’t have time to care that he looked even better in jeans than he had in his suit, and she wasn’t going to pay attention to that smug, I-have-the-upper-hand way he had about him. She refused to let her introvert gene take over just because he was hot. She channeled professional Cora. The one who used to work in an all-male IT department and knew how to stand her ground. “I’m here because you have a big problem with your game Hayven.”

Muroya’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re here about Hayven?”

Ha. There. She’d finally surprised him instead of the other way around. “Yes. I know you own it.”

He crossed his arms, the amused expression in his eyes dimming. “I’m not sure where you’re getting your information, but—”

She held up her palm and stood. Though really, that didn’t give her much more to work with since he had to be at least six feet tall and easily towered over her. “Let’s not waste time, Mr. Muroya. I could go into how I weeded out that information, but we’d end up at the same conclusion and I’d rather get to the point.”

His jaw was hard now, his dark eyes flinty. “Are you a reporter?”

“What?” She blinked, thrown off by the question and the dose of disgust in his voice. “No. I’m . . .”

She didn’t finish the sentence, and he stared at her expectantly.

God. She didn’t want to say it. Not to him. Not to anyone.

“You’re what?” he demanded.

If internal organs could cringe, hers did. “I’m a member.”

The tightness in his jaw went slack at that. “Of Hayven?”

She adjusted her glasses and used that as a reason to look away and toward the hall. She’d never told anyone about the game. No one knew that secret shame, the things she did in that world, the fantasies she played out. How she pretended to be someone else entirely. How she had cyber/phone sex with a stranger. Heat burned up her neck. “Could we do this in your office? I’d rather not discuss everything out here.”

He seemed to snap out of his stupor at that. “Oh. Of course. Right this way.”

He turned and his fingertips landed gently on her upper arm to guide her. The move was polite, not at all aggressive, but he may as well have had electrodes taped to his fingers for the current it sent radiating through her. She had to breathe through the reaction.

Must. Focus.

He led her into a spacious corner office, complete with wraparound windows and what looked to be authentic mid-century-modern furniture. His desk was in the center—simple and clean—with only a laptop. But against the left wall was an impressive workstation with three oversized monitors and a number of gadgets. That area wasn’t so Zen. There were sticky notes everywhere and pads of paper stacked haphazardly. On the wall were pinned sheets of papers—drawings. She wanted to step closer and examine them, but she wasn’t here for a tour.

He ushered her into the chair across from his desk and then took a seat on the other side. His gaze met hers, expression focused but impossible to read. “So, let’s start over. You’re not a reporter.”

“No.”

“You’re a member who has somehow figured out that I’m the one in charge, and you’ve had some problem with the game.”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward on his forearms, the little move somehow creating an intimate just-between-me-and-you vibe. “Okay, well, I’m always happy to help a customer. But to be honest, if you’re looking for tech support, I’m not your guy. My skills lie elsewhere.”

He didn’t say the last part in any particular way, but her brain twisted the words and dumped a big sprinkle of sexual innuendo on them. She’d seen some of those skills last night. She’d seen the way those hands he had folded on the desk gripped a woman’s hair in passion. She’d heard how his voice sounded when he commanded a woman to take his cock.

Cora gripped the arm of the chair hard, trying to get ahold of the spiraling thoughts, and took a steadying breath. Just the facts, Cora. Focus on that. “This isn’t a little tech support issue, Mr. Muroya. You’ve had a major security breach, and all of your members are at risk until you fix it.”

The frown was instant, the casual posture gone. “What?”

She straightened in her chair, professional mode kicking in. “I’m not sure what you have in the way of an IT Security department here, but they’re sleeping on the job. The admin address has been hacked, and someone is sending emails out to your members with personal information of other members.”

His entire demeanor shifted. His forehead creased, jaw flexing, and anger flashed in his gaze. “You’re sure of this.”

Not a question, but she answered it anyway. “Yes.”

“How?”

She unzipped her bag and pulled out the email. She’d taken a permanent marker to the places where the name Lenore was mentioned, but she’d left the rest untouched. She set it on his desk. “This was sent from the main email address to someone I’d blocked in the game. My personal information was included and then whoever sent it got creative with the rest. Rape fantasy being a theme.”

Ren picked up the sheet, his eyes scanning it, his expression darkening as he went. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No. And the man they sent the email to was local and took it literally. When I got home from the party last night, he was waiting for me outside my house.”

Ren’s head snapped up.

Cora swallowed, some of the anxiety from last night trying to bubble up again. “He grabbed me, thinking I was up for some kind of force fantasy, but my neighbors heard the scuffle and intervened. He ran off when the cops showed up.”

Ren expression went lax, horrified. “Christ. He— Are you okay?”

She wet her lips. “I’m all right. I got lucky. But I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if someone hadn’t heard. The safe word he was given wasn’t mine. I wouldn’t have had a way to stop him.”

Ren closed his eyes briefly, like he was honestly pained at the thought.

She didn’t give him a chance to respond. She wasn’t here for sympathy or to talk about her terrifying night. She wanted things fixed. “Until this breach is closed, you’re putting everyone in jeopardy. Not just for what happened to me, but exposure in general. People enter their information into your game, thinking their private details will remain that way. I have no idea how many people received emails like this about me. I didn’t sleep last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about who else could show up.”

Ren shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “God, Cora, I’m so sorry. This is— Obviously, we’ll do whatever we need to do to get this fixed. I can’t imagine how frightening all that must’ve been. If you need a place to stay temporarily to feel safe, we can set you up in a hotel or pay for an alarm system for your place or something.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m not coming here for a handout. I just want you to close the holes, to let members know there’s been a breach, and to warn them that if they receive an email like this, it’s a fake.”

“Of course. I can’t believe someone would do this.” His fist curled against the desk. “What could possibly be their endgame? Can they steal the credit card numbers?”

Cora blew out a breath. “Depends on how good they are. I don’t know how hard it was to break into your system. He could’ve gotten into the email by some simple phishing. One of your employees might’ve clicked on a bad link or went to a dummy log-in page and revealed the password. But if someone just wanted to grab card numbers, they had no reason to go through the trouble of sending out emails like this. Whoever did this wanted to screw with people. I don’t know if it was targeted at me in particular or if it’s more widespread. But whoever it was did their homework. They knew enough to make it realistic.”

“What do you mean?”

She frowned. “The subject of the email said, Tired of being teased? Whoever it was knew that this guy was interested in my character and that I turned him down. So this person either scanned chat transcripts or is already a player in the game.”

Or was watching her chats with Dmitry. You like the idea of being captured? She rubbed chill bumps from her arms.

Ren considered her. “If it’s another player, it could be personal.”

“Sure. It could be as simple as I pissed someone off and he decided to go after me. That’d be easier to pinpoint. But if it’s more than just me . . .” She lifted her hands, palms up. “Then it could be anyone. Someone being a sick asshole. Someone who has an issue with Hayven or the content. One of your competitors. A bored teenager.”

He looked down at the email and a line appeared between his brows again. “And this was the email the hacker sent to the guy about you?”

“Yes.”

He peered up. “And how did you get that? Did the guy give it to you?”

Cora pressed her lips together. She had to be careful. What she’d done last night hadn’t quite been legal. But Ren, guy who gets blow jobs from other people’s girlfriends at parties, probably wasn’t going to call the ethics police on her. She adjusted her purse in her lap. “I’m an IT security specialist and am certified in white-hat hacking. I needed to know how he got my information.”

His eyebrow arched. “So you broke into his account.”

She shrugged. “Let’s just say he was uncreative with his password choices.”

The corner of Ren’s mouth twitched, a flicker of amusement lightening the serious expression. “I see.”

She crossed her arms. “Good thing since obviously your security department is playing Candy Crush or scrolling through Facebook instead of checking the system.”

The thundercloud expression returned. “We had to contract that work out when the guy we had in that position moved away a few months ago. Believe me, that contract will be terminated as soon as we’re done here. This is beyond unacceptable.”

Cora didn’t like to hear about anyone losing a gig, but she was glad Ren was taking this seriously. “You need to hire someone to hack into the system, find the holes, and close them up. And beef up the security in the game all around. Find someone who can think like a criminal. You’re handling outrageously private information and will lose every last one of your members if they think they’re not protected. Not to mention put yourself at risk for lawsuits.”

“Right. Of course.” Ren leaned back in his chair, squeezed his temples.

She could tell it was sinking in, the utter catastrophe this could be for his customers and company. It sucked. For everyone involved. And she appreciated that he wasn’t giving her some corporate speak, playing the political, what-can-I-say-so-you-don’t-sue-me game. In fact, he’d said enough to take blame that she’d have grounds for a lawsuit herself. But that wasn’t why she was here. This hacker was nasty and dangerous. People needed to be protected.

“You may be able to stop it before it goes widespread,” she said, trying to throw out a seed of hope. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with yet. But the clock is ticking. He’s gone unchecked for a few days at least.”

Ren looked up, his eyes meeting hers. “Any recommendations on who to hire? Someone who could start immediately.”

Her mouth opened then shut again. She’d almost said the obvious—her. But did she really want to put that out there? If he actually was interested in hiring her, she’d be working with this man. This man who’d put a woman on her knees, shoved his dick in her mouth, and let Cora watch. This man who already knew too many of her secrets, who knew she was in the game. She didn’t like people knowing those private things about her. She’d learned growing up that secrets were the most dangerous weapons. If you trusted someone with them it was like handing them a loaded gun and telling them exactly where best to aim. She shifted in her chair. “I may know a few people.”

He tilted his head, like a big, dangerous cat watching prey cross the Serengeti. “Isn’t that what you do?”

“I—”

“Are you working for someone else right now?”

She cleared her throat. “I own my own business. I do contract work.”

“So you don’t think you’re good enough to tackle this breach, then?”

Her teeth clicked together at that, the casual comment digging under her skin. “I’m one of the best at what I do, Mr. Muroya. Maybe I’m worried you can’t afford me.”

There. That last part was a lie, but at least it sounded like a good excuse. And it could be half-believable considering the party he’d seen her at last night.

He flipped the printed email over, grabbed a pen, and then scrawled something on the back. He slid it her way. “Will that hourly rate suffice?”

Cora stared down at the number. Blinked. Forced her jaw not to unhinge.

Fuuuck.

Okay, so it was almost three times what she was charging clients right now. Depending on how long the job was, it could mean actual security for a little while. And no ramen. But was it worth it?

The awkwardness scale was going to be off the charts. She’d seen him in a private moment. But beyond that, she’d revealed a glimpse of herself. There’d been a long few seconds between him looking at her in that hallway and her leaving. He’d stripped away a few layers and had continued to tug at them when he’d sat down at her table.

He’d seen more than she wanted anyone to see. In the safety of her own home, she could be Lenore. But, if he discovered it was her, she’d be seen as that strange girl who was so pitiful she’d had to build a character who looked nothing like her just to get laid in a video game. The thought made her want to fold in on herself. She liked those two spheres of her life not touching. No Venn diagram interaction.

But how the hell was she supposed to walk away from that kind of money? This had to be better than living week to week or having to take some gig at an overnight call center. And it’d look solid on her résumé. Plus, she was good at her job. If she really wanted this fixed, the best way to ensure that was to do it herself.

But even knowing all that, something made her hesitate. A warning bell. She’d been looking for clients for months.

This all felt too easy.

She pushed the paper his way again and sat back in her chair. “Why are you offering this to me? You don’t know me. You don’t even know my last name. I could be terrible at my job.”

He gave her a humorless smile. “Benning.”

“What?”

“Your last name. I checked the guest list last night after you left.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know how to feel about that. He’d probably checked it to make sure she wasn’t going to report him for a lewd act.

“And for the record, I make quick decisions but not haphazard ones. I’m making you the offer for a number of reasons.”

She gave him a skeptical look.