Activated, p.13
Activated, page 13
Bingo. Palermo’s assistant. I smile at her and lay on a thick accent. “I’d love to meet him.”
As we make our way to the back of the room, a warm sensation comes over me. The closer I get to the other side of the banquet hall, the more I feel I’m playing the children’s game, Hot and Cold. I’m getting warmer with each step.
Dr. Hitomi stops to apply more lip-gloss, then pulls her mouth into a smile. As for me, I transform into Phoenix, a boldness coming over me. No matter what, I’ll pull answers from this man.
“Just met him today,” Dr. Hitomi says, excitedly. “He’s brilliant and charming. Most companies come to boast of their own projects, but not him. He’s very interested in everyone else’s latest developments.”
Or maybe he has an agenda—like I do. But I nod to her. “A true team player. Wonderful.”
We slide through the crowd, and my numbers skyrocket, like there’s a nuclear bomb in the room. A powerful energy courses all around me. Hundreds of frequencies appear out of nowhere and hit me like an explosion so bright my knees nearly give out until—zap! Every frequency in the room goes blurry, leaving only an indistinguishable haze, except for the one in front of me.
I don’t know what’s happening. My gift just had some major interference. Equations I’ve locked away resurface. They don’t make any sense until the crowd parts and I get my first glimpse of Palermo’s assistant.
Dr. Hitomi taps him lightly on the shoulder. “Mr. Ming. There is someone I’d like you to meet.” The man turns toward me, controlled, confident. Dr. Hitomi extends her arm to me. “This is Ms. Mila Avola, an expert in optical engineering. She’s very interested in Scale Tech and meeting Mr. Ricci. Perhaps you could answer a few questions for her?”
I stop hearing anything. Her words drop to the floor like lead. I try to remain upright—as in control as the man facing me, but I’m completely off balance because every frequency in the room goes silent except for ours. It’s like a supernova is exploding into a billion rays of color between us. I always wondered what our frequency would look like, feel like. Now I know and it nearly rips me apart.
But apparently he’s unaffected. There is not one hint of recognition on his face. He acts like he’s never seen me before.
“Nice to meet you.” There’s a nanosecond where he glances at my blonde hair before he stretches out his hand. “Please, call me Asher.”
I swallow, my throat dry. I stretch out my hand and heat ignites at our touch, runs down into my heart and threatens to electrify my entire body. In this moment, his name might be Asher, like mine is Mila. But everything else is orchids and motorcycles and fights and poems. Can he feel it? The energy surging in the room?
Plan A might not work. Because Palermo’s right-hand man is Kai.
Chapter 24
TO SAY THIS is unexpected is an understatement.
I should have guessed, but whenever I think of Kai going undercover, my mind always goes to thugs, underground crime, the Madams and coups of the world. I never envisioned Kai assigned to a business office like his dad’s. It makes sense though. The billionaire’s son with multiple degrees and languages under his belt was never just a pretty face who could fight. Kai was always smart, trading stocks at age 12. He was logical, at the top of his class in math and science, and he already had years of experience working for his dad. Of course they chose him for this job. But what exactly is his assignment as Palermo’s assistant? If he’s undercover here, what does that say about Palermo? Is Kai at the banquet for the same reasons we are?
I swallow down my shock and force a response. “Nice to meet you.” My voice is sweet, but not my own. My heart is pounding. So I carry my accent even stronger.
Kai stands before me now and all I can do is stare. Dang it. I was prepared to walk into this room and nail every single person down in a heartbeat. But then one heartbeat changed it all.
The touch of his hand in mine is so familiar, so safe that I don’t want to pull it away. But he does. Not only does he pull it away, but he shakes off his hand like it’s dirty now. He even backs up a step, gauging me like he would an enemy. I flush with heat, and an echoing vacancy spreads through me like a disease. Once again, I’m speechless.
Kai smiles rigidly, taking control of the conversation. “Did you say your name was Mila, as in 1000 in Italian?” he asks. “Clever name. The person who named you must be very close to you.” His tone is sharp and unfamiliar, as if he’s wearing his voice like a mask.
Kai knows the story of how I got the name Mila. He’s met Rafael. He’s toying with me, fishing for why I’m here. Why else would I use this name? Does he know where Rafael is? Judging by his numbers, I’d say yes. Which means, I need to find out why Kai is here. Despite my feelings, two can play at this game.
I ignore the needles in my heart and give him a tight smile. “Thank you. I have a colorful past and my name fits that. Sadly, the person who named me is not nearly as close as I want him to be, but I hope to change that.” The shake in my voice hardens, while his eyes twitch slightly. It bothers Kai that I’m looking for Rafael, but he sighs like he’s bored with me. But there’s nothing boring about this conversation. Palermo is Rafael’s family, and Kai has every answer I need. “You obviously speak some Italian. Is that because you work with Mr. Ricci? Is he a good boss?”
I dig into his eyes for answers, but Kai ignores my indirect question about Palermo.
“I’m well-traveled,” Kai says, “and yes, I’ve recently spent time in Italy for work. I don’t recommend it this time of year. Nor would I recommend staying in Finland for too long. It’s far too cold. You strike me as the type who’d enjoy a drier, warmer environment, perhaps like the Sahara.” His tone drops an octave. My face flushes. “Now, was there something else you wanted to ask me? If so, please do. I’m quite busy.”
I nearly choke. Dr. Hitomi seems utterly confused by our exchange. So am I. But this is Kai. I can cut to the chase, let him know what I’m after. Surely, he’ll help if he can.
“I want to know more about Palermo Ricci’s interest in buying Scale Tech,” I say, bluntly. “There are certain investors I represent who seek an audience with him. I’m also looking for a Scale Tech shareholder who I believe is related to Mr. Ricci.” Kai blinks twice, clearly understanding each message I’m trying to convey.
“Ms. Avola,” he says, politely but with that same cold tone. “We don’t discuss our business plans so openly. Especially with people we don’t know or trust.”
The word trust is an arrow directed at me, and it stings. My stomach drops into my feet, but I stand taller despite the sinking feeling.
“Of course not. But we may share mutual goals,” I say, appealing to him. He must know I’m here for a common purpose. “Perhaps we could discuss some kind of partnership between our two parties?”
I stare into his face. His dark brown eyes remind me of safety and fearlessness. Like an old habit, I want to put on his numbers like a warm blanket, but for the first time since knowing him, I can’t. His body language is like a ten-foot wall I can’t climb over. With every word and gesture, it’s clear he’s operating with a new security system around me—I’m now locked on the outside of what used to be my refuge.
Pain assaults my chest. But I clear my head and reassess the situation. Is Kai doing this because we broke up or because of his job? He’s undercover, and we are both surprised at each other’s presence. But it doesn’t feel that way. In Tunisia, we still communicated. He’d find a way to speak to me. He’s clever. But this poker face is one I haven’t seen. November Romeo. Bai’s words come back to me.
Everything about him being a never return feels wrong. Like Red being locked in the Pratt, where the world couldn’t see him.
“Unfortunately,” he says, breaking my gaze, “we don’t partner with just anyone. Once we make an alliance, we don’t split easily as some are accustomed to. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other engagements.”
His temperature and heart rate are off the charts for Kai. It’s like he’s in a fight, but he’s just standing there staring at me. Someone he loved. Someone who left him without a goodbye just like his nightmares. I’ve never seen him like this before.
But then his words hit me like an avalanche…he has other engagements. I gasp out loud. His dad is here. Kai will be livid. His father also won’t be able to pretend as I do. If his dad sees him, it’ll be game over. I need to let Kai know so he can avoid both Chan and my dad at all costs.
“Asher, please wait,” I call after him. The strange name on my tongue tastes wrong. “Maybe you’ve heard of my boss, Chan Huang Long? He and his US business partner, Jason Rivers from iVision have come to Helsinki for the banquet and the ISC Celebration of the launch. Scale Tech is making quite the buzz, and they are eager to invest. Perhaps we could meet up later to talk more about a potential partnership?”
His face turns a shade of red I’ve never seen. But he covers it up well.
He dips his head, like I mean nothing to him. “Thank you for your interest, but I’m afraid that isn’t possible. This week we have our hands full. It was nice meeting you.” His eyes narrow in on mine. An intense anger and hurt radiate from them. The smile on his face, however, continues to be ever charming. How can he do that? How can I not?
“Enjoy the rest of the banquet,” he says. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” Kai doesn’t waste time. He makes his way through the crowd toward the door. The radiation of his frequency and that weird blurriness fades. Soon all the other frequencies in the room return. I shake my head and breathe.
Dr. Hitomi has witnessed our entire awkward exchange and gawks at me like I’m crazy.
I turn to her, face flushed. “Is he always like that?”
She offers a sympathetic look. “I’m not sure. He was very agreeable earlier,” she says, eager to shift the conversation. “Between us, he’s very handsome, don’t you think? So strong.”
“Yes. He’s very strong,” I say, watching him leave the room. His swagger suggests nothing is wrong at all, while the memory of his touch sends shivers down my arms. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Hitomi. Please excuse me – I have somewhere I need to be.”
I head for the door, trying to catch my breath. The boy fighter who loves orchids and poems, who once loved me, is here. But nothing good can come from it.
I’ve got to find a way to talk with him alone before things get even more complicated. Or worse, we blow each other’s cover.
Chapter 25
MY NUMBERS RUN on auto-pilot as I walk quickly toward the exit of the Banquet Hall. I can’t concentrate. My chest is pounding. I came here to find Noble—not Kai. Running into him wasn’t a part of the plan and it’s messing with my head. But all the numbers in the room can’t cancel his calloused hand pulling away from mine, his dark eyes, so distant and cold. Every shield he had was up, ready for a fight. He guarded himself against me like I was a threat.
My calculations try to make sense of it. I didn’t think our breakup would result in Kai raising his defenses against me. But every undercover job he does is extremely dangerous, and I’m jeopardizing his cover. Which is why I let him go in the first place. Lives depended on his success—they still do. It was the right choice. But no matter how angry with me he is, I still have to find Cesare and figure out what Palermo Ricci is up to. The ISC is counting on us.
As I pass by a group of cellists and violinists near the exit, I spot Chan talking easily with three men and one woman. If he knew his son was in the building, it would change everything. I can’t tell him. Not until I talk to Kai in private. Chan may be a tough business player but there is no way he could control his reaction if he bumped into Kai. In time with the musicians, I tap a 16-8 beat rhythm on my leg. If Agent Ramos knew Kai would be here and didn’t tell me, our partnership ends here and now. For me, that is “need-to-know” intel.
K2 alerts me of a message: The lecture is starting soon. Get over here.
I have 52 minutes until the dinner segment of the banquet begins. It’s Eddie’s turn to lecture, so all I have to do is show up for the meet and greet across the square at the University. I’ll have just enough time to make an appearance and ask a few questions, but it’s the last thing I want to do now. I need to talk to Kai before I leave for Lapland, not waste time at a student lecture. But for PSS’s sake, I’ll ensure our alibi is solid. Besides, I need to tell the team about Kai. I have no doubt that Felicia’s hacking skills can help me locate him. If he’s smart, he’ll seek me out first.
As I head toward the door, Tank follows close behind. Miles is waiting outside with my change of clothes. I follow the numerical map in my head through the crowd, spying on my dad. The hair on my arm sticks up. Of course, he’s talking to two of the men my gift highlighted. At least he looks like he’s enjoying himself, even if he is talking to mafiosi. I sigh. He and Chan will be ok for 30 minutes without me. The room is full of security.
I slip into the hallway but stop abruptly. A familiar frequency accosts me. I grit my teeth. Ms. Mines. A crowd of journalists covering the ISC events are standing forty feet away in a roped off area outside the Banquet Hall. Ms. Mines is in a long emerald satin jacket, and I won’t be able to pass her in the hall without her spotting me. I groan. Journalists are not allowed in the banquet, but apparently, they’re still allowed in the building. Very annoying, but even more of a reason to slip away to the University.
I change course so I’m not in her line of sight. Two tall Swedish men are drinking at a bar table set up in the hall, and I slide behind them. Tank immediately scans the hall and spots Ms. Mines. Her story-hungry eyes are trained on the Banquet Hall doors. There is no way she won’t notice me. She’s a journalist who is looking for a story in everything and everyone. But she’s not looking for a blonde Josephine with thick-lined bangs and dark makeup. She’s never seen me dressed up, but there is a 50% chance that she will recognize me. Not great odds.
A minute passes as I assess the situation. If only she would strike up a conversation with one of the other journalists, we could make our move. But she doesn’t.
I’m running out of time when the phantom frequency darts into me and then through the hall, right past her. Immediately, I lean out of my hiding spot for a better view, but then the tall men I’ve been hiding behind start walking down the hall. My mind sharpens, and all my numbers recalibrate. My odds are now a 53% chance she won’t recognize me. I crack my knuckles. Good enough.
“We’re going,” I say. “Now.”
Tank shakes his head. “She’ll see you.”
“Only a 47% chance,” I mumble.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I walk confidently ahead, counting each step, watching her gaze land on the Swedish men, then on Tank and Miles, and finally on me. Tank’s grip on my arm tenses as she looks our way. The bodyguards don’t break their stride, even though their breathing quickens, and their frequencies intensify.
All I concentrate on is that extra 3% chance she won’t recognize me. Because the moment I calculate her gaze on my dress, I know I’m safe. She takes five seconds too long evaluating the four men’s faces, which minimizes her time to examine me. Then, she makes a poor choice: her eyes shoot straight to my dress and physique first, leaving less than one second to study my face before I’m past her. It’s not enough time to recognize me. I lift my chin, passing her with confidence.
I sense her gaze lingering on my back like tentacles. But she doesn’t move. A small victory, but I’ll take it.
When we reach the stairs, Tank leads me to the women’s powder room. Miles hands me my bag, and I go in and change my clothes.
I slip into knee high boots and pull a thick gray sweater dress over my skinny red one. I put on a huge blue parka, a snowboarding beanie, and thread my arms through a backpack. Hopefully, I look just like a regular student decked out for winter.
I text Harrison. “Walking there now.”
We slip out of the Banquet Hall, the crest of the lion glowing in the night. The stairs are scraped clean of snow, but they’re still slick. It doesn’t take long to realize there’s an art to walking on icy ground. The streetlamps are all turned on, light reflecting off the glistening snow. It’s so magical, yet here I am, sneaking around Helsinki in disguises.
As we head toward the university, the outdoor stage set up for the Celebration Rocket catches my eye again. The location of the stage doesn’t make sense. It’s too close to the street. There must be a reason it’s set up there. I make a note to ask K2 for details of the square later.
The team and our Finnish contact, Minttu, are waiting for us at the main entrance. She is holding a sign, “Professor Jo Rivers.” I wave, twenty feet to go.
She’s dressed in a cool wine-colored winter coat, stylish boots and fuzzy hat. For being so bundled up, she looks fabulous. Apparently, our Seattle team knows nothing about winter fashion. She also knows how to maneuver in this snow and ice without slipping and breaking her neck.
“Professor Rivers,” she says, smiling. Her accent is very faint, and her enthusiasm is greater than I expected. “The girl who graduated with her PhD at age 15. A huge pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you. Sadly, I’m not that girl anymore.” In my mind, the statement refers to all I’ve gone through, but my goal is for her to associate it with the loss of my mathematical gift, which I announced at a press conference upon my return from China. Not everyone saw the video of my announcement, but there’s a 92% chance that anyone who researches my name has seen it. Adding in Minttu’s current expression, there’s a 96% chance she has too.
Like clockwork, she responds. “We were briefed on your past. I’m sorry you lost such an incredible gift. Thankfully, you still love math and are passionately contributing to the sciences.”
