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Chapter sIX. At nine the next morning, Sloan walked down the brightly lit, cavernous central corridor of Michael's high-tech corporate complex






AT NINE THE next morning, Sloan walked down the brightly lit, cavernous central corridor of Michael's high-tech corporate complex. Small warrens of offices, conference rooms, and lounges branched off at irregular intervals. The hallway terminated on the east side of the building, with Michael's corner suite occupying a large part of that section. Sloan was surprised to see someone working in the outer office adjoining Michael's. A woman stood behind a large horseshoe-shaped reception desk sorting through a deep file cabinet, her back to Sloan.

" Excuse me, " Sloan called, assuming that this was Michael's secretary. " Ms. Lassiter is expecting me."

The woman turned, glanced at Sloan, and then uttered a small cry of surprise. Her eyes widened, and a faint blush stole across her attractive features. " Oh my God. Sloan! What are you doing here? "

" Hello Angela, " Sloan replied calmly, hiding her surprise with a cool expression. " I'm working. I'm surprised you didn't know that."

Sloan wasn't certain exactly how much Michael Lassiter had confided, and she certainly didn't want to give the impression that an explanation was in order. " I didn't realize that you work here."

Angela shrugged, a slightly bitter smile tugging at her lips. " Considering that I haven't talked to you in almost 2 1/2 years, I'm not surprised. Of course, you were never particularly interested in the details of my life. As I recall, your interests were somewhat more limited."

Sloan thought she probably deserved that, considering that she had rather abruptly ended her liaison with Angela Striker. They had dated a few times after meeting at some local political event. Angela, however, demanded a degree of exclusivity in her romantic partners that Sloan had found impossible to provide. She thought the better part of valor was to end the relationship quickly before both of them regretted it. Nevertheless, she said nothing now. She had learned over the years that attempting to defend her actions where bruised egos and dashed dreams were concerned was futile. It was simply easier to let them believe that she didn't care.

" So, is she ready for me? " Sloan questioned, indicating the closed door behind Angela.

A look of irritation flickered over Angela's face, and then she abruptly shrugged it off. " I don't know. Let me check with her and see."

A minute later Sloan stood once again across the wide expanse of luxurious office space from Michael Lassiter, who was looking casual that morning in beige slacks and a cashmere vee-neck pullover of darker brown. Sloan tried to ignore the obvious fact that Michael wasn't wearing anything of substance underneath the delicate sweater.

" Hi, " she said.

Michael smiled in welcome, " Good morning."

Sloan deposited her briefcase next to the computer console, then glanced over her shoulder at Michael. " Have you been here long? "

She looked away uncomfortably. " A while. I had trouble sleeping."

" I'm sorry, " Sloan said, meaning it. She had had a rather hard time getting to sleep herself the night before. She had found herself walking aimlessly through her loft apartment, the lights out, patches of moonlight the only illumination. She was strangely restless. She kept thinking about the evening, and the drive to Michael's. It had been a long time since she had spent so many hours with a woman when at least one of them hadn't been bent on seduction. But it hadn't been like that with Michael. There had been something in the air – her skin had tingled with it, but it hadn't been sex. Not the simple phermonally-inspired attraction she was used to. It might have been something as simple as the fact that she liked Michael Lassiter. And she didn't like to think of this quietly self-contained woman alone in the night, awake and worried. She straightened her shoulders, and blew out a breath. " Well, let me get to work and maybe I can give you a little peace of mind about this stuff at least."

" There's fresh coffee, " Michael offered.

" Thanks, I'll get some in a minute, " Sloan mumbled distractedly, already seated at the central console, rapidly typing in commands.

Michael watched her for a moment, enjoying the look of utter concentration on her face. She was also thinking how relaxed and at home Sloan looked in her faded jeans and slightly frayed at the cuffs white button-down shirt. The battered brown boots looked lived-in and completed the picture of a woman who couldn't have cared less about making the usual professional statement. No power suits in appearance here. Michael wondered if Sloan had any idea what an appealing image her obvious confidence projected. After a moment, she got up and filled two ceramic mugs with coffee and carried one over to Sloan.

" Black okay? " she asked, setting the mug down near Sloan's right hand.

" Huh? " Sloan replied, not looking away from the monitor. Then the aroma of very good French Roast caught her attention and she glanced up at Michael. " You aren't supposed to be waiting on me, " she admonished with a winning grin, " but thanks."

Michael smiled. " It's the least I can do to repay you for last night."

Sloan swiveled on the chair to face her, her violet eyes serious. " You don't need to thank me. I enjoyed every minute."

Michael blushed. She had no idea why that pleased her so much. " I'd better let you work, " she said softly, turning away.

It was some minutes before Sloan could concentrate on the diagnostics she was running, and even then she was acutely aware of Michael across the room, sketching something out on her drafting table. That undercurrent in the air that made her skin tingle was back again. She diligently determined to ignore it.

" Well, well, well, " Sloan remarked almost to herself after a few moments.

Michael looked up from her work, noting the slight frown on Sloan's face. " What is it? "

Sloan held up one hand, indicating for her to be patient while she perused several windows which she had open on the screen. " Last night before we left I added a second level intrusion blocker to the firewall you already had on your system, just to see if there was any activity. It looks like you've got people trying to slip in the back door."

Michael put down her pencil, turned on the high stool and regarded Sloan intently. " Is it something serious? " she asked after a moment.

Sloan shrugged. " Not necessarily. There are literally thousands of people around the world who are constantly attempting to hack into other people's systems, just for the fun of it. They run programs that try to find open networks, either private or corporate. When they do, a scout program is launched that basically opens files on the systems and allows the hacker to read through them. I assume that your entire system is networked, internally and between your other companies."

" Yes, at least most of the areas dealing with marketing and development are." Michael confirmed. " We have so many interdivisional conferences, as well as design overlaps between the various physical plants, that it seemed wiser that way. The financial and personnel divisions are only accessible here, at the corporate headquarters, but to be honest I never inquired as to exactly how they are secured."

" Never mind. I'll be looking at that." Sloan leaned back in her chair and rubbed her face with both hands. She needed another cup of coffee, but she was reluctant to ask for it. She had been a little surprised when Michael brought her the first one. She wasn't used to anyone looking after her in that way.

" The way you’ve set things up is probably easier, " she continued, " but it makes you more vulnerable as well. What about your home systems? How many people can access the company network from their private computers? "

Michael laughed at the absurdity of that thought. " Oh god, I don't know. Hundreds probably. At first we weren’t even networked, and then as our numbers grew, and we needed to be able to reach each other, we just hobbled things together. We never had anyone overhaul the entire network. Didn’t seem to need to." She slid off the stool and crossed to Sloan's working area, picking up her empty coffee cup. In the small alcove where the very expensive little French bistro coffeemaker was located, she poured them each another cup, then returned to stand by Sloan's left shoulder. She deposited the cup and stared at the screen. " Can you tell who it is? "

" Given enough time, probably, " Sloan admitted. She reached for the coffee gratefully. " Thanks, " she said quietly.

" I'm afraid if I make too obvious an attempt to lock others out of the system, particularly Jeremy, it will merely raise his suspicions, " Michael mused. " I don't want to do anything until you have my critical data safe."

Sloan nodded, understanding that the urgency for security had to be balanced against the larger issue of Michael's personal situation. " I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but what do you think he's likely to do? "

Michael edged her hip onto the corner of the broad workstation that held the array of electronic equipment. She sighed, her blue eyes troubled. " I don't know."

Sloan looked up at her, confused. How could a woman not have some idea what her husband would do when she left him? Could it be possible that she knew so little of him, or he of her? Suddenly, she had a very uneasy feeling. " As he ever been--, " she hesitated, then asked softly, " physical? "

For a moment, Michael looked uncertain, then she blushed faintly. " No, never. He has something of a temper, though generally when he's angry he simply becomes colder and more remote. I believe he thought that the worst thing he could do to me would be to abandon me, shut me out."

There was just a hint of pain and bewilderment in her voice, and Sloan had the feeling that Michael's husband had been correct. He had known exactly what to do to hurt her. For a moment, she despised him. " I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."

Michael placed her hand softly on Sloan's shoulder, saying, " It's all right. It doesn't matter to me anymore."

Sloan nodded, and turned back to the computer. She needed to concentrate on what she had been hired to do, and stop worrying about Michael Lassiter's personal life. It wasn't up to her to erase that shadow of unhappiness in Michael's eyes, or to ease the sadness that was so often present in her voice. " Let me work on this a while, and maybe I can give you some kind of answer to this problem at least."

Michael sat silently, aware that she had been dismissed. She was a little surprised that it hurt. When Sloan failed to look up again, she moved quietly away. They did not speak again except to say goodbye.

 


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