“Anything interesting?” I asked, after giving the waitress my drink order.
Tristan snapped his laptop shut and shoved it into his bag. “Yeah actually. A couple of things.” Typically, he gave nothing away. Tristan made a lot of money—evident by his address and the kit he always had. Although we all knew he worked in systems security, I didn’t exactly know what that meant or who his clients were. Still, I had my suspicions.
“You’re not worried someone will steal your laptop when you’re working in public?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“It’s my job to make sure no one can find anything, even if they take my laptop.”
“What about hackers?” I asked.
Tristan gave me a sideways squint. It seemed the glare was meant to make me feel stupid. It didn’t, but I wasn’t quite sure how I’d mis-stepped either. “No, Andrew, I’m not worried about hackers. I’m the best hacker in the world. Which makes me the best person in the world at stopping hackers.”
I was used to hearing Tristan talk about how great he was. In our friendship group, he was often the butt of jokes because he was so immodest, but maybe it wasn’t boastful if it was true. “But surely, they can unscrew the hard drive and extract the information somehow.”
Tristan nodded like I was an idiot.
“Can’t they?”
“You tell me. You seem to be the expert.”
“You’re annoying.”
Tristan shrugged. “If anyone tampers with this laptop, the data stored on it automatically deletes. If the camera detects someone in front of the laptop who isn’t me, the data deletes. If the keyboard thinks the keystrokes don’t follow my typical patterns, or the fingerprints don’t match mine, or if someone puts in the wrong password—”
“The data deletes. Okay, I believe you.”
“I don’t tell you the risks in your business. You don’t need to worry about mine.”
I grinned at Tristan. He was the youngest of the six of us and we often treated him like a younger brother. But he was nobody’s fool.
“Speaking of business, how’s it going with Goode?” he asked.
“I’m unusually impatient,” I said. “But okay.”
“Who did you end up sending into the meeting to pose as the buyer?”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A message from Sofia flashed up on my screen. Speak of the devil. “My assistant,” I replied, as I opened the message.
Her evening had ended early and she was heading back to the hotel.
Without thinking I started to type, Swing by Bram Bar on your way. If you want to.
“You mind if she joins us?” I slid my phone onto the table between us.
Tristan fixed me with a stare. “You want your assistant to join our drinks?”
“Is that a problem?”
“You’re not one to mix business and . . . anything else.”
I shrugged and took a sip of my drink. “It’s not a big deal. We’re travelling on business. Sometimes the rules change.”
“The rules never change for you.”
I picked up my phone again. “If you’re going to make a big thing of it, I can tell her I changed my mind.”
“Oh, no. Please don’t. I can’t wait to meet the woman you’re changing the rules for.”
I put my phone down and fixed Tristan with a don’t-fuck-with-me stare.
Tristan shrugged. “So tell me about her.”
I sighed in exasperation, but maybe it would be good to talk things through. Up until this trip, Sofia had been easy to keep in a box.
This trip had well and truly broken that line. I was Italy prior to 1866.
“She’s bright, overqualified to be my assistant, and I’m sleeping with her. She’s . . .” I took a deep breath, trying to pinpoint exactly what I was trying to say. “I like her.”
“Wow,” Tristan replied.
“Enough of the sarcasm. I’m telling you what I know.” I stopped a waitress and ordered a glass of Barolo and a cocktail, so Sofia had the option.
“I wasn’t being sarcastic. Translating what you’ve said from Andrew language into English, it sounds like you really like this woman.”
“Yes. I just don’t know what that means,” I confessed. I did like Sofia. A lot. I liked her spirit and independence. I liked that she knew when to challenge me and when she just needed to accept what I was saying. I liked her smart mouth and tight pussy and I more than liked having sex with her.
“Does it have to mean anything?”
“I don’t think I get a choice.” I knew I couldn’t freeze time. People talked about living in the now, but that was bollocks. The now was past as soon as it was spoken about. Now didn’t exist more than a second before it was gone. This trip, what we’d shared physically and professionally—it had changed things between us.
“It can’t just be an office fling?”
The waitress came with Sofia’s drinks and when she set them down, I shifted them so they were in front of the seat next to me.
“There’s two things wrong with that statement. The first is that an office fling comes with strings if I’m the boss and she’s my employee. It’s just a fact.” I wasn’t an idiot. There was more than one reason I didn’t shit where I ate. It made things too fucking complicated. “And the second thing is that . . . she’s a big deal.”
Sofia in the office had started as a minor annoyance, had transformed into an assistant who seemed to know what she was doing and got bonus points for not letting my attitude and foibles get to her. As a lover, Sofia had started as a woman I wanted to fuck, but had transformed into a woman I couldn’t get enough of. Of course she was a big deal.
Before I could say anything further, the hostess interrupted us and Sofia appeared at our table. My breath hitched in my chest and I cleared my throat. She always looked gorgeous, but tonight she looked breathtaking in a tight red dress that covered her arms and cleavage, and hit just below her knee. She was completely covered up but no one had ever worn anything so sexy.
I took the jacket folded over her arm and nodded toward Tristan. “This is—”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sofia,” Tristan said, standing as he reached out his hand. “I’m Tristan.”
Sofia glanced to me for further explanation.
“Tristan is one of my oldest friends.” I guided her to sit down and then chastised myself that I’d chosen to sit in a chair so I couldn’t be closer to her.
“I thought you must have been joking when you said you had friends.” Her expression was like I’d just told her I had a twin brother called James. “How does that work? Do you have to hire them?”
Tristan chuckled from across the table. “I like her.”
She turned to me, smiling, and I reached under the table to slide a hand onto her knee.
“I hear you’re helping Andrew with this Goode situation,” Tristan said. “The guy sounds like he’d cut his nose off to spite his face. You’re doing well if you’re getting him on side.”
“I think it’s simpler than that. It’s good old-fashioned ego at work with Goode.”