Page 23 of Meet Cute Reboot

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Page 23 of Meet Cute Reboot

“Sure,” I say. “I’ll brew another cup.”

Luke gives me the thumbs up and then his head vanishes.

A smile tugs on the corner of my mouth. He always did have a sense of humor. It’s one of the things I loved about him.

Loved.

I did love Luke. Once.

With a sigh, I fumble through the top cabinets for a bag of coffee beans. Luckily there’s a half bag stuffed in a far corner. I have no idea how old it is. Since I don’t even remember putting it up there, this probably won’t be the freshest cup of coffee.

I fire up the coffee pot, brushing off the dust first. Sarah and I prefer the Keurig. It’s quick. No mess. Not as good for the environment, but I save seconds where I can. They’re all valuable.

After the pot is brewed, I pull down a mug and pour.

Luke’s head pops in again. “Cream. No sugar.” He salutes and then disappears.

I was so distracted by my sudden feelings for Luke that the full implications of Luke’s investment in my company didn’tcompute. Now they tumble into my head with breathtaking velocity. I steady myself against the counter.

He could demand sexual favors.

If I don’t give him what he wants, he could pull his funds.

He could kill my dreams with a simple phone call.

He could hover, micromanage, force himself into my life.

Wait. He’s already done that.

To say it complicates things is an understatement. Bottom line, I need that money. I need Luke.

I curse.

He orchestrated this. He forced my dependency on him. How conniving. How manipulative. How...generous?

Conniving. Definitely.

My anger swells, eclipsing the split-second physical desires I had for him. He crossed a line and ignored boundaries to get what he wanted. Typical.

I tug the refrigerator door with more force than necessary and grab the coffee creamer. I hope Todd likes his coffee diluted because I accidentally fill the mug to the rim. After emptying some into the sink, I head out of the break room.

Luke, Todd, Bethany, and Drew are huddled around Sarah’s desk. I join the group and hand Todd his mug.

“None for you?” he says.

I look down at my hands. “Oops. I forgot.”

Bethany raises an eyebrow at me.

Todd takes a sip and then says, “Okay, Drew. We’re all here. Lay it out for us.”

Drew claws his fingers through his floppy bangs. He’s a head taller than me and twice as wide. His faded navy T-shirt depicts an evolutionary line of apes ending in a Transformers-like robot choking a human. An unflattering pair of gray joggers covers his bottom half, capped by a pair of worn-out Crocs. He folds his arms over his stomach and leans backward.

“Someone is orchestrating a DoS attack using a botnet,” he says, punctuating each “t” with a puff of air.

He peers down his nose at us while we wait for him to continue.

“What is a DoS attack?” Bethany asks.




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