Fathom (Mermaids of Montana #3) - Elsa Jade Page 0,104

those zeroes had been in her account last she checked, which made him her boss. “And Tyler is fine. Less fine, though, if I can’t get a reliable connection here. The ‘most amazing opportunity to create the most unique algorithmic database structure in the world’”—she quoted his effusive initial email back to him—“won’t mean much if no one can access it.”

“Universe,” Even said.

She blinked at him. “Sorry?”

“I said it will be most unique algorithm in the universe.”

Oh man, now she really needed to confirm that payment had gone through. “Yeah, the universe.”

“You’ll believe it—the universe, I mean—when it gets dark. The stars here in Sunset Falls are beyond anything you’ve ever seen.”

“Since I try not to go outside too much, I’ll just take your word for it.”

He laughed. “I suppose a world-class data wrangler like you is focused on other things.”

“Universe.” She forced herself to keep her gaze steady, even as the humiliating memory of raucous laughter flushed through her. “I’m a universe-class data wrangler.”

Evens just nodded once. “Which is why I hired you.”

She let out a short, relieved breath. “Is this where you finally tell me why, exactly?”

“Indeed.” He stepped back into the shop. “Come inside.”

For just a heartbeat, she hesitated. Something about crossing that threshold suddenly felt…ominous. Or maybe that wasn’t quite right. Portentous, maybe? Feeling some sorta way. She’d always preferred numbers for exactly this reason. Numbers had a value, constant and coherent. Feelings were messy, changeable. Feeeeeelings might be catalogued and squished into a box…only to leak out at the worst times like the horrible monsters from Alien or The Thing, morphing and murdering.

But Evens had paid for her data expertise, not her dating experience. And it wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be.

Pushing her glasses higher on her nose, she stepped inside.

The shop was even more eclectic beyond its windows. Lit by a dozen different fixtures standing, hanging, or affixed to the walls, the visual chaos made her blink again. Less easily shut out were the equally overwhelming scents of dust, mustiness, patchouli, and buttered popcorn. To her embarrassment, her stomach growled.

Evens halted. “I should’ve offered to get you settled first: a meal, a nap, a landline…”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’d really like to hear more about the work.” No point getting settled if this was all about to go sideways. If it did… She couldn’t bear to think of slinking back to the Bay with less than nothing to show for herself. And she really didn’t want to return any of those zeroes in her bank account.

“Can I get you a drink, at least? Sunset Falls has an excellent mineral water from local springs. You must try it.” Evens hustled behind the counter, ducked down for an instant, and returned with a clear glass bottle. He popped the cap with a soft hiss.

Reaching for the bottle almost made her hesitate again. What was wrong with her? She’d already taken his money. Just because no one knew where she was, in a town she’d barely found on a map, with no phone service was no reason to get paranoid.

She clutched the bottle. “Uh. Thank you.” She looked around. “So, am I designing a way to manage all these, ah, treasures? I could start with basic museum collection management, get this squared away in no time.”

“You could?” He looked too, eyebrows rising as if surprised at the chaos. “Interesting. But no, that’s not the reason I brought you all this way.” He returned his attention to her, his dark eyes probing in a way that made her shift her grip on the bottle.

If she needed a weapon…

Abruptly, he said, “Tell me about your last project.”

“I can’t. I signed an NDA.” Also, beyond signing the non-disclosure agreement, she didn’t want to even think about the last seven years. She took a long swallow from the water to wash down the swearing that tried to bubble up. “If you need me to sign something like that…” She twisted the bottle again to look at the label: Sunset Springs Mineral Water: Like a Happy Comet in Your Mouth. “This is so good—which is weird to say about water—but um, worst tagline ever? Not only are they ripping off Bob Ross, I’m pretty sure comets are just dust and frozen gas. And comets don’t even have feelings.”

Evens tilted his head. “Do you know any comets?”

She opened her mouth then pursed her lips. “Know any… Like, personally? No, I guess not. I saw a shooting star

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