were modeling, if I remember correctly.”
She laughed a sweet sound. “That, too. In my real life I work at the post office. So how have you been? I think the last time I saw you was about two years ago.”
“I’ve been doing well. Business is booming. Can’t complain.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“How’s Renee?”
“Renee is married and working on her second baby.”
Steven let out a burst of surprised laughter. “You’re kidding. Renee?”
“Yep.” She bobbed her head.
“’Scuse me, can I get a little service down here?” a man called out from the other end of the bar.
Michelle made a face. “Sorry. Be right back.”
Steven took a brief look around. For the middle of the week, the place was fairly crowded with a combination of the straggling after-work patrons and the locals stopping in.
It had been a while since he’d been out alone at a bar. Since he and Mia had gotten together, he’d shut down that part of his life. Funny how a bar was the first place he’d ventured to. He supposed old habits die hard.
Michelle returned. “So what brings you out?” she continued as if they’d never been interrupted.
He shrugged slightly. “Needed some air.”
She leaned forward, exposing ample cleavage that Steven could hardly ignore.
She lowered her voice. “Unfortunately, if you’re going to sit here, you have to order something. If you don’t, my boss will kill me.”
“Sure. No problem. I’ll take a Coors.”
“Coming right up.” She turned and bent into the fridge to retrieve the bottle, giving Steven a good solid look from the back. She turned and set the bottle down in front of him, along with a glass and a napkin. “Out for some air, huh?”
He looked at her. When he and Renee had been together he’d seen Michelle several times. She’d always been with a guy, so he hadn’t paid much attention to her. Now he did. She was a good-looking woman. Not necessarily a showstopper, but there was something appealing and sexy in her open expression, engaging smile and inviting eyes.
She wore her hair natural in short spirals that took years off her age—middle to late thirties—and her skin looked soft and supple to the touch, with a body that you wouldn’t toss out of bed.
“Something like that,” he finally said, responding to her question. He took a swallow of the icy-cold beer. “How many nights do you work here?”
“Just two and every other weekend. Helps keep the bills at bay.” Her gaze drifted over him. “I get off at ten.” She turned and walked a few paces away to serve a customer. She tossed Steven a last look.
Steven looked up the overhead clock above the bar. Ten. He could keep himself occupied until then. Maybe a diversion was just the thing he needed to get his head right. He sipped his beer and relaxed to the music.
* * *
Mia had her laptop open on the bed. She’d connected it to her PDA and logged in using the TLC access codes. Within minutes a string of programs opened. She keyed in the necessary information and soon she was inside Michael’s office computer.
She did a cursory search of his files and didn’t find anything that struck her as out of place, which could mean that there was nothing for her to find or that she would have to open each and every file.
However, after considering her options she thought that if Michael was involved in the escort business, he would minimize any trail from his office. More than likely anything incriminating would be on his home computer or gathered from her phone taps. But if he was using company funds to pay people, there might be something in these files.
She took a second look at a folder labeled Accounts and opened it. At least one hundred files filled the screen. She groaned and began looking at them. The majority of them were businesses, many of which she was familiar with, at least by name. Others were for individuals. As she took one last look, a file marked Log caught her attention. She clicked on the file and a message opened requesting a password. Her heart thumped.
Password. During her training, Jasmine, the head IT person at TLC, had been very clear about passwords. If you weren’t certain that you knew it like your own name, do not try to access the information. If the file is somehow encrypted, then whoever did it would know if attempts had been made to hack into the file. In cases like that, Jasmine was to be contacted.
Maybe it was nothing, Mia tried to convince herself as she stared at the flashing request for a password. She was probably jumping the gun. Most likely this file was no more than an employee list, or his personal banking information.
What if it wasn’t? Was she trying to blow it off because she really believed it was nothing or because she wanted to believe it was nothing?
Reluctantly, she picked up her cell phone and dialed TLC headquarters. An automated service answered.
“Welcome to Tender Loving Care beauty products for today’s woman. Please enter your ID number now.”
Mia pressed in her ID.
“Thank you. If you know your party’s extension, please dial it now. To order supplies, press 1; to schedule training, press 2; technical support, press 3. If this is an emergency, please enter your emergency code.”
Mia pressed “3.”
“Jasmine speaking.”
“Hey, Jazz. I have something that I need you to look at. It’s encrypted and needs a password.”
Jasmine laughed. “Piece of cake. Send me the file.”
“Actually I can’t. I’m in the subject’s computer remotely.”
“Go head, girl! Okay. I’m going to take over your computer. Give me your IP address.”
Mia did as instructed and seconds later she watched her cursor move around the screen, open and close files and type in strings of code. For an instant the screen went black. When it came back on, Mia was looking at some sort of client list with payment schedules and amounts. All the names were women.
Mia began to feel ill.
“I’m going to take a screenshot of this and e-mail it to you, close the file and then I’ll release your computer back to you,” Jasmine was saying through the cell phone’s speaker. “Got everything you need?”
“Yes, thanks,” she said absently.
“Well, good night.”
“Night.” Mia disconnected the call.
Moments later her computer beeped, indicating a new arrival. She clicked on her in-box and saw the e-mail from Jasmine. She forwarded the e-mail to her office account. She’d print it out there.
Little by little she shut everything down, trying to put a positive spin on what she’d seen.
After putting everything away, she realized how late it had gotten. It was nearing midnight and Steven had yet to return. The fact that he wasn’t home was bad enough, but what was more damning was that she hadn’t noticed until now.
* * *
Steven waited for Michelle to finish her shift. Good sense dictated that he should simply get up and leave. But old habits kicked in and he hung around. He needed some positive reinforcement and his gut instinct told him that Michelle would be more than willing to do just that.
“Finally,” she breathed, coming up to the table where he’d been relaxing for the past hour.
Steven glanced up from his drink. He pushed up from the seat. “I know it’s late, but have you eaten?”