“You think you can do that?” Nico asked seriously as if the concept was foreign.
“No. I know I can.”
Ryker pressed a button on his phone and Mary Alice appeared a second later at the door. “This way, Mr. Saccone.”
“Dear Lord, who gave this woman a yardstick?” Nico muttered as he stood up.
Ryker smiled on the inside. The mob was no match for Mary Alice.
Ryker pulled up his secure phone line and dialed the new offices for his and Sebastian’s company.
“Dude.”
“Is that a hello?” Ryker asked, shaking his head.
“Dude is whatever you need it to be,” Alex replied.
“I want to see what you’ve found out about the person who hacked my system.”
“Du-u-ude,” Alex said slowly and Ryker ground his teeth together. “We found the person who did the hacking. He was a hired hacker with limited talents, but enough talent to know how to use digital currency for discreet payment. Working on tracking that payment now.”
“Can’t you just ask him who hired him?” Ryker asked as patiently as possible.
“Dude!” Alex said in a way that clearly conveyed that that was a stupid question. Apparently, dude really could be whatever you needed it to be and Ryker was feeling a little worried now that he was starting to decipher it. “Most hackers for hire refuse to work with you if you give any identifying info. They do that to cover their asses so when people like you track them down, they are no good to you and you’ll leave them alone.”
“I’m not leaving him alone. Destroy him.”
“Dude,” Alex said slowly as if that were stupid to say because he’d already done it.
“Thank you. Call me if you get anything new.”
“Sure thing, dude. Also, Kale wants a word.”
Ryker looked at his watch and tapped his finger on the desk as he waited for Kale to get on the phone.
“So, I did a background search on that nurse who saved you,” Kale said not bothering to say hello.
Ryker stopped tapping the desk. “Do I want to know how you knew about her?”
“Marcy Davies,” Kale said casually, naming Ryker’s great-aunt in Kentucky. How she knew about Kenzie was a mystery, though. “Anyway, she’s good. No criminal activity. No previous marriage. No real debt besides nursing school. Outstanding evaluations at work. Lives in a subdivision near your port. From a small town in the North Carolina mountains. Upon a deeper dive—”
“No,” Ryker said quickly. “It’s not necessary to do.”
“Already done.”
Ryker’s heart beat as if his whole body knew he shouldn’t hear this. He’d never had this problem before. He always had Kale run backgrounds—the more invasive the better. “I don’t need to know.”
“It’s like that, is it? Cool. She’s a good one. I’ll call when we have anything else for you. In the meantime, I’m going to hop onto your network tonight and up the security, including putting traps in it to find the identity of anyone nosing around.”
“Good, thanks.”
Ryker hung up the phone to find Mary Alice waiting for him. “It’s time to go, Mr. Faulkner.” Yes, it was. In thirty minutes, he had an angel to thank.
Kenzie walked down the bluestone sidewalk in downtown Charleston until she came to an old house painted the historic Charleston blue-green color. A white sign hung on black wrought iron over the door, Faulkner Shipping.
She looked down at her watch. She was five minutes early, but she was too nervous to wait any longer. Ryker Faulkner made her nervous in the best possible kind of way, but what she was about to ask him was beyond a mere thank-you trinket.
Kenzie walked into the offices and past old historical maps of Charleston before coming to the open lobby. An intimidating old lady wearing what Kenzie would describe as a nun-inspired outfit looked up at her and glared.
Kenzie plastered on a smile and strode forward. She didn’t know about nuns, but you couldn’t show fear with unruly patients or old ladies. They’d eat you up and spit you out.
“Hi. I’m Kenzie Carys and I have a five o’clock appointment with Mr. Faulkner.”
“What’s it regarding?” the woman snapped in a way that made Kenzie stand up straighter and make sure she wasn’t chewing gum.
“I don’t know, ma’am. Mr. Faulkner set the appointment.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Kenzie, but Kenzie didn’t back down. “I’ll see if he has time.”
Kenzie waited and then finally the woman came back and showed her down another hall toward a large office in the back of the house. Ryker was behind the desk looking dark and intimidating in a black suit with a greenish silver tie that seemed to match his eyes. When she came into the office, he stood up and walked around his desk.
“Thank you for coming, Kenzie,” he said as the woman left the office, closing the door behind her.
Kenzie hardly noticed, though, because Ryker took her hand in his to shake it. It felt as if her whole being were focused on that one spot their skin met.
“I wanted to have a chance to thank you privately for all you did for not only me, but for my employees.” Kenzie wanted to grab his hand back when he dropped it to grab something from his desk.
“I was just doing my job,” Kenzie said for the hundredth time.
“Here’s my appreciation for you doing your job,” Ryker said, handing an envelope to her.
Maybe it was a day at the spa. That would be fantastic. Kenzie lifted the flap and pulled out the contents. She stared and stared some more. She shook her head and stared at it some more.
“Is that enough?” Ryker asked quietly.
“Seventy-five thousand dollars,” Kenzie gasped. She could pay off her student loan and buy a new car.
“I guessed at what your student loan debt might be and then added a little extra.” Her eyes shot up to his at the softness in his voice.
“How do you know about student loan debt?”
Ryker gave a little chuckle. “I wasn’t born rich. I was born to a middle-class family. I worked, and still work, my ass off to have all of this. So yes, I personally know what student loan debt is and how good it feels to pay it off.”
Kenzie took one final look at the check and shoved it back at him. “As much as this would help me, I actually need . . .”
She saw the immediate change in his demeanor. “More money?” Ryker asked in such a tone she shivered and not from sexual attraction. The man was downright ruthless-looking. “Is that what you want, Ms. Carys?” Ryker asked the question so seriously she thought about running out the door, but if she was going to humiliate herself she was going to do it with her head held up high.
There it was. That was what Ryker had been worried about. More money. It was always the same. His stomach fell and he felt it like a punch to the heart. He’d hoped for more from Kenzie, but he’d learned long ago romance and love were hopeless.
“No!” She put her hands on her hips instantly, looked pissed-off. “I don’t want your money, Mr. Faulkner.”
Ryker blinked for a second. Was she playing hardball? “Then what do you want?”