“I’m just having dinner with you.”
“And spending the night.”
“Sleeping is going to take a lot of energy? Do you have a vibrating bed? Wait. Don’t answer that. Let’s talk about something not related to what’s going on in your head.”
“How is that possible?”
“Do you really work at home?” she persists, changing the subject.
“Yes.”
“As in you have a computer and all of that?”
“Doesn’t everyone have a computer at home?”
“No. Computers are expensive.”
At the stoplight, I twist my head to take a good look at Leila. She’s staying in an extended-stay motel—the type that you rent because you have bad credit or a lack of down payment prevents you from renting. Her clothes are cheap, and her shoes are scuffed. I think the toes and heels of her black pumps are colored in with a Sharpie. I hadn’t really noticed before because she’s so beautiful and so hot that she could be wearing a paper bag and it’d look good.
She said her mom’s dead, and her dad too. The girl has been eking out a living doing temp jobs with no support. My gut twists. That’s criminal. It’s even more criminal than some delinquent slashing tires in the parking lot of my building.
“If you need to use one, feel free to hop on mine while I get dinner ready.”
“You cook?”
“Nah. I’m good with ordering though. I can set out a plate and silverware too.”
“You have a password?”
“Nope. I live alone so it’s not necessary.” I press the button to the gate guarding the driveaway. “Plus, I’ve got this.” I motion to the security devices around the front of the house. “Cameras, gated access. There’s nothing much in my house that a person can steal besides a few watches and a couple of cars. Insurance has it all covered. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to do anything to harm me.” I give her an encouraging smile as I park the car. “Let’s go inside. The computer is in my office down at the end of the hall. Double doors. Wood paneling. You can’t miss it.”
Chapter Nine
Leila
This is way too easy. So easy it’s starting to freak me the hell out. I’m in Warren’s house at his personal computer that he gave me full access to. I don’t even have to try to sneak around to get information; he’s handing it to me.
There is no way this man is this dumb. I’m having a hard time understanding what he’s getting out of all of this. Maybe this is a setup, but I can’t pass up this opportunity in case it’s not.
Either way I’m going to leave here with something. I pull out my phone as I bring up Google Chrome. He’s already signed in. I pull up his password list and snap pictures until I get to the bottom. Now I can really dig into his stuff later without the worry of getting caught.
I grab a couple of the newest files on his desktop. I pull up the email and start to put Chris’s in, but I hesitate for some reason. Instead, I decide to put my own in and send it to myself to look at first. I tell myself it’s because I only want to send Chris things of significance but I’m not sure that’s entirely true.
My phone buzzes a couple times, alerting me I have texts.
Chris: You’re in his home. Good girl.
Chris: Remember what I told you.
His good girl makes my stomach queasy. He really wants me to sleep with Warren. At first, I thought he was exaggerating, but the last few interactions we had together made it clear he wanted me to use any means necessary to get him information. I pull at the collar of my shirt. I said I’d do anything to bring Warren down. I might end up destroying myself in that process.
“Food’s here,” Warren says from the doorway. He leans up against it. He undid the top couple of buttons of his shirt and rolled his sleeves up. For once he looks relaxed, and it makes him even more handsome than he already is.
I don’t think sleeping with him would be hard for any woman to do. I think it would be the self-hate that came in the morning that would be hard to deal with. Plus, I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing in that department and I would probably be terrible at it. I can’t believe I’m even having to consider any of this.
“Awesome. I’m hungry.” I push back from the desk.
He doesn't move out of the doorway, so I have to slide past him. He stops me, his hand slipping up the bottom of my shirt. His fingers rub my skin back and forth, causing my skin to get goosebumps. His eyes are all over my mouth. I lick my suddenly dry lips.