kept her voice low. “Nothing about our behavior in this building should change. No one can know about the time we spend together outside of work. We have to be professional.”
Paul went along, trying to sound levelheaded and sincere. “You’re right. We don’t want to risk our jobs.”
“I’m so glad you understand.” Her relief was palpable.
It pierced his heart. “I do hope we can see each other again.”
“We will. I enjoyed our time together too.” Camille clutched her purse and stood. “I have an errand to run on my lunch hour, so I’ve got to go.”
Paul started to suggest they see a movie sometime, then held back. “See you at the Monday meeting.”
After she left, Paul played back the conversation, trying to evaluate the subtleties. Camille had implied they would spend more time together, so she must like him a little, he thought. He knew she was right about keeping their relationship from co-workers, but he also worried she was embarrassed to be seen with him. He could change that, though. A chin implant would make a world of difference. He’d looked at before-and-after photos online. Even female actresses made themselves more beautiful by extending their chins. He would win Camille over-he just had to be patient.
By mid-afternoon, Paul’s right leg vibrated under the desk, his mind drifted from his task, and he felt irritable. The restless leg syndrome was new in the last few days, and he wondered if the symptom was related to his diet. He hated to think his jitteriness was connected to the pills because they were working well.
He took his afternoon break early and walked around the block. The cold wind was relentless, and he felt like he’d run a mile by the time he arrived back in his office. At five, he shifted out of his software maintenance task and opened the replacement database. Because of Olbert’s threat to report him, Paul had no choice but to abandon the beleaguered Robert Morales in the DOE. If Olbert had followed through, federal agents might be watching for anything suspicious that might happen to DOE employees. Paul decided to start over and look for a new position to target. He needed to make one more arrangement to pay for a chin implant, then he would stay out of the database.
But first, he had something personal to take care of. He keyed in
After forty irritating minutes of keying in search words and scanning personal information, Paul finally found a possibility. Allen Brentwood worked for the Department of Transportation, which had been consolidated into three small units that regulated trains, planes, and cars. Brentwood was the director of the vehicle and road safety administration. What first caught Paul’s attention was Brentwood’s performance reviews. The last one had unsatisfactory ratings in seven out of ten categories, and the one before it was only marginally better. The DOT secretary had to be looking for an excuse to fire him. The other interesting factor was that Brentwood belonged to the gym Paul had joined, so Paul had access to him.
Paul checked the replacement database. All three candidates were men and Paul had to rule out two. One already had a Level C position, and one was Brentwood’s assistant. Paul settled on Terrance Kettering, a man with degrees in engineering and business, who’d been unemployed for a while.
Paul left work at six, spent an hour in the cold looking for a street vendor who sold prepaid iComs, then finally took the bus to a shop in the mall. With his merchandise in his pocket, he caught a bus home. On the ride, he watched the snow and had second thoughts. What if Olbert had reported him? Had they launched an investigation? Was he being watched?
Paul shivered, then scolded himself for being paranoid. The possibility was remote. Law enforcement budgets were a fraction of what they used to be, and unless violence or major theft was the issue, most crimes were given cursory investigations, and prosecutors only went after suspects with evidence against them. His little missions were small-time and under the radar.
Still, Paul promised himself it would be the last arrangement and he would be more careful this time. He would only ask for fifteen thousand and demand it all up front. That way he’d only have to conduct one cash transfer, cutting the risk and stress in half. The money would be enough for his chin implant, which now felt essential. The surgery would radically improve his appearance and his chance of a sexual relationship with Camille. The thought of an intimate encounter gave him an idea for how he would get Brentwood fired.
At home that evening, Paul sat down at his NetCom and in a matter of hours, learned everything he ever wanted to know about Allen Brentwood. The man was a networking fool and shared his daily movements with the world on Scoop, a phenomenon Paul had never understood.
It didn’t take much effort to discover that Brentwood went to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays after work and soaked in the hot tub after his workout. Paul would be at the gym next week and would snap a quiet photo or two of Brentwood showing some skin. Then he’d send the images to a young woman who worked in Brentwood’s department. Paul would also hack into the man’s WorldChat page and post the skin photos there, maybe with some outrageous unpatriotic statements. Even without a history of unfavorable performance reviews, it might be enough to force his resignation.
Paul shut off the unit and got Lilly ready for a quick trip outside. He was relieved this mission would be easy. Now all he had to do was sell the position to Terrance Kettering and make an appointment for his chin surgery.
Chapter 25
Paul couldn’t stop staring at himself in the mirror. The swelling in his chin was down and he’d gone back to work yesterday after recovering over the weekend. Inserting an implant was not nearly as traumatic as removing attached tissue, the aesthetic surgeon had explained. Paul turned his head and admired his new profile. He loved the definition! Why had he waited so long to do this? Why didn’t everybody with a recessed chin do this?
The $13,350 cost came to mind. Paul felt sorry for people without the means to pay for it. Procedures like this one could transform a person’s life, opening up career and relationship opportunities that had never existed before. He felt like a new person and couldn’t wait to show off his improved profile. It occurred to him that he might eventually find a better job for himself. There was nothing wrong with software management, but he’d entered the field because it was a behind-the-scenes position, and he’d assumed his homely looks wouldn’t work against him in employment interviews.
He ate breakfast and dressed for work, stopping occasionally to run his finger along the scar in the soft tissue under his new chin. Such a small incision, such a huge improvement.
“Tonight’s the night,” he said to Lilly as he took her out for her morning stretch. “How can Camille say no to this face?”
The afternoon dragged by as Paul grew more excited-and anxious-about his evening plans. He and Camille had been to dinner several times and once to a movie, but she hadn’t allowed him to go much farther than kissing and touching. She said she wanted them to take things slowly and get to know each other before committing to a sexual relationship. Paul understood and was trying to be patient, but they were both in their thirties and life was short.
His message center flashed and Paul tapped it open. Stacia’s face appeared. “Will you come to my office please? There’s someone here to see you.” She clicked off before he could respond.
Paul’s heart fluttered as he imagined possible scenarios. Was this about the replacement database? He
