GERALD
It was indeed embarrassing to say I'd gone over the same sets of documents three times, and I was still undisposed, thereby unable to understand a single word it tried to convey. The words seemed to float off the paper, turning into patterns and shapes. I'd have gotten tested for dyslexia if I didn't know where the problem stemmed from.
One name. Rosaline. Even the thought of her hand caused me to shudder in my seat. I'd never seen a woman more determined or stubborn than her. Even Julie didn't compare, and to think everyone had termed Julie the adamant one. It all boiled down to the fact that we didn't pay Rosaline more attention.
I sighed, a metallic blue pen tapping rhythmically against my lower lips, and my other hand closed the file. First, I kissed her, and she termed it a mistake. Maybe it was inappropriate of me to have done that, but wasn't calling it a mistake too insulting? I had to agree with her to save whatever was left of my pride.
The moment we shared was permanently etched in my brain for no reason. It must be because I hadn't willingly kissed a woman in so long. That must be why.
Secondly, breakfast the next morning. I had made it excessive on purpose, holding a vain hope at the back of my mind that she might eat something. She'd blatantly turned me down, too, her eyes showing no hint of remorse or mercy in the process of it.
She'd changed a lot in such a short period of time. From the lady who always muttered yes to everything she was told, to a woman whom the word no seemed to be the only thing printed in her dictionary. The more I got to know Rosaline, the more intriguing she got, and I didn't want to stop learning about her and the things she did, especially why she was so hostile.
She hadn't said a single word to me in two days, and I couldn't tell why. I ruffled my hair and heaved another broken sigh. "Why, why? Why's she doing that?" I muttered to myself. "Am I being too nice?"
"No?"
"What the?!" I was too quick to shout, almost getting knocked out of my seat when I heard the voice. Finally, I found my footing, shot my head, and found that Smith was already in my office, his eyes holding a question. How long had he been there? I swallowed dryly and pushed up a brow. "What do you need?"
"You seem to be really lost, boss," Smith commented. "Is there a problem?"
My hands reflexively reached up my tie, and I loosened it before adjusting my jacket and subtly clearing my throat. I really did hope I didn't look as embarrassed as I felt. "No, why? I'm fine. I'm perfect, as always!" I patted my hair down. "Do I look like there's something wrong? I'm the definition of perfect. I'm fine."
Even I knew I was talking too much. Smith squinted before responding in a tiny, squeaky voice. "Okay? Uh, I just came to brief you on our progress on the faux website. I think the problem might be the chase. Whoever has created the website must know we're onto him."
I was trying so hard to focus, but I couldn't seem to get Rosaline out of my head. "And she knows how valuable she is in this setting. She knows I'm onto her, and I'm interested in her, which must have given her leverage over me. All I have to do is act a bit uninterested, and she'd come around, don't you think?"
"What?"
"What?" Oh shit.
"Are you having women trouble, boss? Is it your wife?"
I blew out a raspberry-kind laugh, faking humor that did not exist in my downright embarrassing situation. I'd sink into the earth's crust if I had the chance. "Nothing of that sort, Smith. I was just... ah, sorting out some things internally. Women trouble? Definitely not."
"If you say so-
"Most definitely not. I wouldn't even know what that means," I rambled on, cutting Smith off impulsively. On the other hand, I'd very much like to rip my lips off. "Go on with the briefing. I'm all ears."
Smith seemed to derive humor in this situation, which I found to be the exact contrast. What did I expect? Aside from being the longest employee I've had, Smith was also a friend at intervals. As a matter of fact, I was the reason for the bridge between us. I watched him fight his smile while I fought the urge to throw myself out the window. What had she done to me?
He cleared his throat and continued. "I believe the creator of this website might have an inside man, and what I meant by the chase, before you... know, the interruption, was that this group of individuals always seem to something worse the more we get onto them. Like as a way of seeking some form of validation, they up their games to either impress or scare us away. Today, while tracking the progress, we found that the website will be open to sales in three days, boss. I think the company is heavily compromised."
The air in the room grew tense, and every other thing fell away, vanishing into an abyss. The website will be open to sales in three days. That automatically translated to having three days to save this company from overwhelming loss.
"The hackers, how are they progressing?" I hurriedly asked.
"Really slowly, just as the last time. Although I got a new contact, and he's said to be a prodigy, I need to vet him before proceeding."
I nodded, my head suddenly heavy. "Tell me however it goes. There should be another security sweep. Make an appointment with the-"
"I thought you might say that, so I did," Smith cut in. "Our security team will be expecting you at the hotel."
I quickly grabbed my coat and thrust my keys into my pocket. That team was a group of experts we'd selected to deal with this problem. "Same-day hotel?"
"Yes, boss, and in the same room," Smith responded, and I patted his shoulders. "Would you like me to come with you?"
"It's not needed. Thank you, Smith."
*
My driver opened the door, and I stepped onto the pavement of the hotel. I hadn't been here since the last complication that happened, and I knew I had to be careful. Smith and I were the only ones aware of the security team's existence in this hotel.
We'd funded them for over six months to collectively work on bringing down the duplicate websites in order to ensure a repetition of whatever happened didn't occur again. A butler crossed my path, a hint of recognition flashing across his face the moment his eyes met mine, but I brushed it off. He must have recognized me from the news, and that was a frequent problem.
I didn't want to be recognized here. I needed to maintain confidentiality at all costs in order not to jeopardize all we'd worked for. Stepping foot into the ground floor and, I was hit by a wicked wave of cold, and it quickly seeped through the fabrics of my clothes, scrubbing goosebumps up my arms. Was this a hotel or a morgue? Seriously?
As inconspicuous as I could, I spoke to the red-haired receptionist, who couldn't seem to stop grinning, and gained entrance to the main hotel. I was heading to the elevator when I saw a familiar face amidst the people waiting downstairs. My mother? That was so unexpected, but I had two options, to slip by and escape the prep talk of working too much or call her attention and sink into the pep talk.
Her presence got me curious, though. Why was she here? I brushed off the curiosity and retreated, my eyes fixated on the elevator. I'd barely taken a step when I heard her call my name. Oh, no.
She rose from her seat and walked to where I was, a question on her face. "What are you doing here, son?" For no reason at all did her voice seem to falter; maybe she was here for a reason I shouldn't know about, and I wouldn't probe. I'd love to spare myself some explaining too.
"Work stuff," I responded briskly. This was where the 'What about you?' question came in, but I didn't ask it. I was too much in a haste and too uninterested to know.
"Work stuff?" There's a mischievous grin sitting on her face as she repeated the question.
"Of course, what else?"
"Right. What else? As expected, your work life surpasses all." There was a brief silence, quite discomforting, as I hadn't spoken to her after we had lunch together with Rosaline. My mother brushed her hair back before looking up at me. "Well, I... uh- I'm here to make another appointment for your... father. We. We came here last year on our anniversary, and it was quite fun getting out of the house, you know? So I thought I'd do it again. It was quite the getaway for us, rekindling our spark and all."
Oh, that must be why she was hesitant to mention, and I honestly wished she hadn't. Now, I was burdened with the torture of rather vile images in my head. Oh, please. "I see. It's no problem then, enjoy your... romantic getaway."
Oh..." She sighed, almost relieved. She then glanced at her wrist watch and smiled. "And your wife, how's she? Our last conversation wasn't exactly fun, you know? Is she giving you a hard time?"
My toes were beginning to tingle impatiently now, and any more of those talks would set me off. "She's fine, thank you. You can go on with your... plans."
"Alright, son, take care." She leaned in and placed a brief peck on my lips. "I'll see you later."
We parted ways, and I took the elevator, expecting what I'd meet and how to tackle the company's threat. I reached the corridor, scaling through numbers, when I felt a vibration in my pocket. "I can't just seem to catch a break!"
It was my father calling. I weighed the phone in my hand, contemplating whether to pick it up or not. It would be ludicrous to assume my mother informed him of anything related to my being here, and I sincerely hoped he wasn't getting any ideas. I exhaled and picked up, only because he rarely ever called.
"I got briefed today, Gerald," He dived straight to the point. "They say it's back on again. Why didn't you inform me about it sooner?"
Of course, he heard about it. Dad had his personal secretary, whose only job was sniffing information. "Because I'm handling it," I responded, exhausted to my bones. "It's nothing to be worried over."
"Are you sure? If you need my help, you know I can come down there, right?"
I snickered. "Come on, old man. I know you just need an excuse to stress yourself all over again."
"You know me, I miss the good old days."
" I've been in charge all these years, so you have nothing to be worried about. I'm going down to the team, and we'll find the perpetrator. This wouldn't be like the last time."
"Really? Where?"
I looked around the place before responding. "It's even more ironic that it's your romantic getaway. B&C's hotels. Isn't it such a small world?"
"What are you talking about?" Dad quizzed with sincere confusion. "What getaway?"
Was he going to act clueless? "Nevermind. Mum will tell you all about it. I'll speak with you later, gotta run."
"Wait, I really don't know what you mean..." He protested, his voice firmly pushing from the speakers. It was getting pretty obvious that he was, in fact, oblivious of whatever I was talking about, and that only inclined me to disconnect faster.
Maybe my mother planned it as a surprise, or that story was a cover-up. Then again, why would she lie about something like that?