“Uh, okay,” I groan. “Did that just happen?”
“Yeah.”
I shake my head and scowl into my iced coffee. “I mean who does that?”
“Yeah seriously.”
When I look up at her, Cassidy is grinning.
“What?”
“What you said! Who does that?” She grins. “Who just walks away and leaves their expensive bag just lying there like that?” She nods at the spare chair. When I turn, my jaw drops.
Sitting there, is Deirdre’s bag.
Cassidy and I both glance at each, saying nothing. But finally, I shrug.
“Well, I’m not bringing it back to her.”
She taps her fingertips on the table. “Well, we don’t know it’s hers, right?”
“I mean, we watched her put it right—”
“I didn’t see a thing,” Cassidy shrugs. “Maybe we should look inside to see who’s it is?”
I raise a brow at my friend. “Cass…”
“What?”
“That’s illegal?”
“No, it’s not,” she shrugs. “You gotta make sure its hers before you just give it to her.”
I arch my brows.
“What?” She grins. “Plus, it’s like you’re legally obligated to give it back to her anyways.”
“Well, keeping it is called stealing.”
“Discerning who it belongs to isn’t.”
We look at each. Cassidy wags her brows.
“C’mon, Tansy…”
With a sigh, I relent. “Okay, fine. But I’m not pawing through her bag here.”
“I’m parked down the street, c’mon.”
Iced coffees in hand, we almost run with excitement to Cassidy’s truck. Inside, she yanks the bag open and dumps it on the bench seat between us. Makeup, Deirdre’s wallet, tangled headphones, a book titled “Be Your Best Boss Bitch” which makes me want to gag, and then…
“Bingo. Jackpot,” Cassidy grins as she holds up Deirdre’s laptop.
I frown. “Okay, hacking it is definitely illegal.”
“We’re not—” she snorts and peers at me. “Do you have any idea how to hack a freaking laptop?”
“Well, no—”
“We’re just….” She opens the screen up, and the password prompt pops up. “Guessing. That’s all.”
I groan. “This feels wrong.”
“She used to be married to Colt.”
Furious jealousy explodes inside of me. I turn and glare at the laptop. “Hack that fucker.”
Cassidy grins as her fingers splay over the keyboard. “Any ideas?”
“Try ‘Satan’.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “I think you only get a couple of tries before it locks you out.”
“Hmm, okay. Try…” I frown. “Money?”
She shrugs. “Why not.” But when she types it in, the password box shakes like it’s saying no, and the screen doesn’t change.
“Hmm, no-go.” She bites her lip. “What was that guy’s name she was with?”
“Lorne.”
She nods and types that in. But yet again, no luck.”
“Shit.” Cassidy taps her foot on the floor of the truck. I look out the window, trying to put myself in Deirdre’s shoes. And then, it hits me.
“Try ‘Deirdre’.”
“Her own name?” When I nod, she turns back to the keyboard. “Okay, here we go.”
She types it in. Suddenly, the screen fades to the desktop, and we’re in.
“Holy shit, did that seriously just work?” She balks. “Whose password is their own fucking name?”
“Vain, arrogant bitches like Deirdre?”
She smirks as we both turn to the desktop. “Okay, what are we looking for?”
I frown. “Nothing, Cass. We’re just making sure it’s Deirdre’s, and I think the password being her name makes a pretty good case for that.”
“We should probably make sure…” Cassidy opens up a folder labeled “Work Shit”.
“Cass…”
“God, remember that time she cheated on Colt a bunch of times, ran off with one of his busines partners, and then tried to steal his ranch out from under him?”
I glare at her. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Well, is it working?”
“Yup. Let’s destroy her.”
She grins as we start poking around through folders and documents. We keep drilling down, until at some point, we’re paging through a folder of documents labeled “Product Notes.” Inside, we suddenly stop at a sub folder dubbed “Delete.”
Cassidy snorts. “Yeah that doesn’t look suspicious at all.”
Obviously, we open it. Inside, there’s document that appears to be a copy-pasted email correspondence between Deirdre, Lorne, and three other people. From their email signatures, one appears to be the lead chemist for Mare-Mate. The other is their chief corporate counsel. And the third is the chief financial officer.
“Wait, what are we looking at it?”
I shake my head. “Not sure, but this looks sketchy as hell.”
We scroll down, and then both freeze. There’re a couple back and forth emails with the chemist, talking about the “big change.” Attached to those are a whole bunch of extremely technical looking diagrams and chemical compounds. One of his last emails mentions “negative side effects in trials are as expected. Proceed?”
The next bunch of back-and-forths involve the attorney, asking to be removed from the chain for ‘legal reasons.’ After that, it’s just Lorne, Deirdre, and this guy Dave, their chief financial officer. His next email is downright chilling.
“Given the cost savings with the chemical replacement we’ve discussed, negative press is negligible. Projected revenue is well above any modeled bad press or leak scenario. I recommend we proceed.”
Deirdre’s response is a less-than-classy “Hell to the yeah! Let’s do it!!!” With a bunch of dollar-sign emojis.
“What the hell are they talking about?”
I shake my head at my friend. “No idea. Click that.”
She opens up the last attachment, which is a side-by-side comparison of two chemical compounds.
“Uh, do you even know what his means?”
“No.” I purse my lips as the gears turn in my head. “But I know someone with a chemical engineering degree who will.”
11 Colt
I glare at the documents in front of me. Across the desk in my home office, my lawyer Brad frowns as well. That’s never a good sign. I look down at the documents again and grit my teeth.
Deirdre just brought out the big guns. She’s filing an injunction, calling Tansy and I out and legally challenging our engagement.
“Look, Colt, it’s a theatrics play. There’s no real legal definition of ‘engaged.’ Beyond one of you asking the other to be legally bound to each other at some imagined point in the future. And even then, no one has to prove that anyone even asked verbally or in written form if both parties attest that
