I shook my head in horror and advised, “It can’t be one, two, three, four. That’s way too easy to hack.”
“Considerin’ I check my e-mail about once every three months, dump most of it, check the weather every once in awhile and got nothin’ else on there, ain’t nothin’ to hack.”
I sighed and explained, “Yes but you rent this place and other people could use it, look up p**n , maybe even icky stuff.”
He grinned. “Icky stuff?”
I ignored his grin and the way it communicated he thought I was adorable (and the way that made me feel) and continued, “Icky stuff, icky stuff that could get you into trouble. Don’t you watch television?”
“Not much.”
“Well, your every day pedophile probably wouldn’t hesitate renting a beautiful, A-Frame in the mountains and enjoying himself by accessing your one, two, three, four computer.”
“Jesus, darlin’.”
“Sick people are everywhere. Just watch Criminal Minds.”
“If that’s their subject matter, I’m thinkin’ I’ll avoid it.”
“It’s really good,” I told him, warming to my topic because I liked that show and therefore I idiotically lost myself and did not keep my mouth shut. “They have this really smart, genius guy who’s fascinating. And this really sharp, tough lady. And this hilarious computer mastermind who wears funky clothes and always has perfect lipstick. And they almost always get the bad guy.”
He was grinning down at me again when he muttered, “Sounds like I’m missin’ out.”
“It’s worth it just for Penelope Garcia’s lipstick and the stuff she wears in her hair, trust me,” I shared.
I stopped talking when I saw his eyes start glittering and his body start shaking and his face definitely said he thought I was adorable.
Instead, I looked at the computer and got down to business, clicking through the screens to take me to the window that changed the password and I asked, “What’s your favorite number?”
“Lucky number’s three.”
I pulled in breath through my nostrils. That was my favorite number.
And it was Charlie’s.
“Okay, then, something three…” I prompted.
“Make it up, Nina.”
“Give me something to go on.”
“Just make it up, I’ll write it down and hide it somewhere.”
I looked up at him. “Max –”
He cut me off and said, “Three duchess three.”
I wasn’t certain but I was pretty sure I felt the blood draining from my face.
I didn’t shift my eyes from the screen when I asked, “Sorry?”
“Three duchess three, I won’t forget that.”
“But –”
“Type it in, babe.”
“But, Max –”