rearrange the autodial buttons on my phone?”
“They were disorganized.”
“The buttons on my phone were disorganized.” Pierce rubbed his eyes. “How is that possible?”
“They were not in alphabetical order.”
“And now they are?”
“Now they are.”
He disconnected the line and punched the first button.
Dutch picked up on the second ring. “I’m surprised you found me.”
“Would that have anything to do with the new office manager rearranging the autodial on my phone?”
“First of all, it’s called speed dial.”
“And second?” Pierce tucked one hand in his pocket, working his finger over the item tucked inside.
“Second, Elise came and asked if it would be helpful for her to reprogram it.”
“And you told her it would?” He pulled a notepad from the drawer and scrawled out the names he’d set up, numbering them in alphabetical order. “I don’t know who in the hell I’m calling now.”
“Heidi told her to do it. Said you’d love it.”
Of course she did.
“Where are you?”
“Depends. How was your meeting with Vincent?”
Pierce closed his eyes.
He’s started this company from the ground up. Filled it with men he knew and men he’d come to know.
And now they were all turning on him.
“Never mind.” Pierce hung up the phone.
Whatever they were doing was fine. He would deal with it one way or another.
But for now he had better things to occupy his mind.
And his evening.
CHAPTER 4
“I DON’T KNOW where he went.” Heidi walked through the doorway of Intel’s office, her brows drawn together. “He’s been gone for hours.”
“Probably need a break.” Lennie’s eyes stayed on her computer screen, fingers moving gracefully across the keyboard as she worked her way through the list of possible names they’d come up with connected to GHOST.
Heidi snorted. “Pierce? No way.” She walked to her desk, falling into her seat as she grabbed the large mug always close by and took a long sip through the wide plastic straw. “That guy doesn’t shut off. He’s wound tighter than a clam’s ass at high tide.”
Eva glanced Heidi’s way. “How long did it take you to think that up?”
“I Googled it.” Heidi’s grin was wide and filled with obvious amusement.
“You Googled a way to insult Pierce?” Mona tried to wrap her brain around the concept. It would never occur to her to look up creative ways to put someone down. “Why?”
Heidi’s eyes went wide. “Who says it’s an insult?” She lifted one shoulder. “Working hard is a good thing.”
“You didn’t say he was a hard worker. You said he was uptight.” It was a ridiculous thing to argue about, but for some reason it bothered her that Heidi would be so dedicated to creative ways to say Pierce was lacking.
“He is uptight.” Heidi’s grin from earlier slowly reappeared. “But I bet it’s fun as hell to see him when he snaps.”
Mona turned away, forcing her eyes back to her own computer screen. “I doubt it.”
Her eyes looked at the monitor but her mind refused to consider anything besides Heidi’s words.
I bet it’s fun to see him when he snaps.
It didn’t sound like fun at all actually.
For some reason it sounded a little sad.
“You’re going to need Botox before the week’s out if you keep frowning like that.” Heidi wiggled a bag of Swedish Fish at her. “Want some candy?”
Mona held her hand out Heidi’s direction. “You know I do.”
Heidi stretched behind Eva’s desk, depositing the entire bag in Mona’s hand. “Take the rest. Shawn’s making dinner and if I don’t eat it all he gets his feelings hurt.”
“How long are you going to keep pretending to like plain chicken and vegetables?” Eva scribbled across a Post-It and smacked it onto her desk next to the collection of other papers lined across it.
“Relationships are all about sacrifice.” Heidi’s eyes rolled a little. “Apparently I’m sacrificing flavor.”
“At least he can cook.” Harlow turned to stare at the monitors across the front of the room. “Mine has to mooch off Brock.”
“He likes it.” Eva rearranged a few of the notes forming a timeline of events. “He’d cook for everyone here if he could.”
“Don’t tell Dutch that. He’ll be at your door three times a day.” Harlow’s head tilted as she scanned the video playing across the screen. “I just pulled the feed from the post office and it looks like Chandler hasn’t been there yet this week.”
“Really?” Mona watched the feed along with Harlow. They’d almost been able to set their clocks by Chandler’s arrival at the Post Office. “You think the money stopped coming?”
Harlow shrugged. “Or he’s dead.”
She’d known Chandler since college. His arrival