Read Online Deceptive by Sara Rosett - Free Book Online Page A

She switched her attention back to Jack. “You think I’m some suburbanite who spends half her days in yoga pants at the gym and the other half on Pinterest, right?”
    “Ah—no. I, um...”
    “You don’t think I could hack into my own email account, much less a high-tech website with layers of security protocols. Am I right?”
    Jack cleared his throat and put his hands out, palms up. “Sorry. I apologize. I made assumptions based on your surroundings. I have to admit that I didn’t expect a hacker to have such a...homey place.” He gestured at a potted orange Gerbera daisy in the center of the table.
    “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.” She gave him a stack of napkins—white polka dots on yellow—and opened a drawer for silverware. “And technically, I’m an information technology and security consultant.” She cocked her head to one side. “Do you think if I lived in a grungy, dark studio apartment strewn with empty pizza boxes, I’d have more clients?”
    Zoe looked around. “Definitely.”
    Carla crunched up her shoulders. “I could never do it. I love this house.”
    “You could always rent office space. You could use it only to meet clients. Make it nice and dreary. Paint the walls a dark gray, keep the blinds closed, and scatter around lots of computer equipment and extension cords. I bet your client list would double. I’d let you try it for free for a few weeks next time someone moves out of one of my office suites.”
    “Maybe.”
    Emma climbed into a chair, and they sat down to eat. By the time they had the boxes open, Emma was deep into an interrogation of Jack. “What’s your favorite color?”
    Jack paused with his chopsticks poised over his fried rice. “I’d have to say blue.”
    “Like your eyes,” Emma said. “Mine is purple.”
    “Not pink?” Jack asked.
    “No. Pink is for babies. I
have
to wear it for ballet.”
    “I see.”
    Carla cleared her throat. “Don’t forget to eat your shrimp, Emma.”
    Jack turned to Carla. “So Goth?”
    Zoe looked pointedly at the daffodil yellow kitchen. “It is hard to believe, isn’t it?”
    “I
was
. Get Zoe to show you my picture junior year. I look like something out of a bad horror movie. Jet-black hair, thick eyeliner, and I already had the pallor because I was so fair-skinned. I hung out with the stoners behind the Quick-Mart.” She looped a noodle around her chopsticks. “Senior year I took a programming class and that was it for the Goth thing. I’d found myself. Turns out I’m a geek.”
    Emma said, “I have a turtle.”
    “What’s your turtle’s name?” Zoe asked.
    “Speedy. Daddy says it’s moronic.”
    “I think you mean
ironic
, sweetie,” Carla corrected, hiding a smile behind her glass.
    Emma shrugged. She focused her attention on Jack. “We did have a parrot, but we had to find him a new home because he said bad words.”
    “I wonder where the parrot learned those words?” Zoe said, widening her eyes as she looked at Carla.
    “It’s a mystery.” Carla stood and began closing the food containers.
    “We don’t say bad words,” Emma informed them in a grave tone.
    “That’s right. We don’t say bad words.” In an undertone, Carla added, “Not anymore.”
    Zoe watched Emma out of the corner of her eye, struggling to break open a plastic fortune cookie wrapper. Jack offered to help. Emma put it in his hand, and he ripped it open. Zoe grabbed the empty container of fried rice and followed Carla into the kitchen.
    “That stuff I told you about on the phone, the favor I need, forget it.”
    Carla closed the refrigerator door and turned to her. “What are you talking about?
    “Of course I’ll help you.”
    “I know, but I don’t want to put you in a bad position.” Zoe looked to the table where Jack was reading Emma’s fortune to her. “I can’t ask you to take a risk for me. You’re not a hacker anymore. I can’t ask you to break the law for me.”
    “It’s true that