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  Chapter 1

  The sun beat down on the back of my neck as I walked as slowly as humanly possible along the sidewalk. There were still eleven minutes before I had to clock in at work, and I intended to use every damn second of it to get lost in the weighty, hardcover novel in my hands.

  It was the last installment of the Galactic Warfare series before the author retired. Every page was filled with gorgeous alien babes, heroic duels, and shitloads of Martian gold. The epic story pulled me into a world full of adventure and excitement that was seriously missing from my life, and I loved every moment of it.

  Reading was so much better than real life.

  I knew every crevice of the sidewalk, and I could basically navigate my whole commute without having to look up. My eyes only left the pages to dart up and check I wasn’t about to stroll right into a businessman or beach girl enjoying the early L.A. sunshine. I patted my backpack to check I had remembered my lunch, and I wished I’d picked up sunglasses as the morning light stung my eyes.

  My work was only a twenty-six-minute walk from my apartment, and the journey took me off of my shitty street and through the gleaming penthouses of San Pedro that towered up to the cloudless sky. I tried not to stare too much at the stainless steel and well-dressed doorman who held an entrance open for some residents. The view over to the distant water of Cabrillo Beach from those balconies was the stuff dreams were made of. But an expensive penthouse wasn’t exactly in my near future. Not with the meager I.T. manager salary I had been living on for the past two years.

  My eyes rolled at the thought of the word “manager.” I was the only one in my department, so the only person I was managing was myself. But my boss, Roberts, clearly thought the new title would distract me from the fact he hadn’t kept his word to raise my wages.

  I turned the page of my book as the alien war goddesses fought alongside their soldier hero, and I kept walking at my leisurely pace as glass office fronts came into view. Joggers and power walkers rushed past me, and I knew I would still have two chapters left by the time I reached work. I sighed as the towering office building cast a shadow over me and the street. Palm trees lined the sidewalk in front of it, and people in expensive suits puffed cigarettes as they clung onto briefcases.

  It wasn’t a bad location to work. It just wasn’t exactly what I’d dreamed of when I moved out here from Ohio. I thought this accounting firm would be a solid job until I found something better. But Roberts had promised again and again that he would up my salary to keep me. By now, I had accepted the fact that was never going to happen, but job searching was so fucking dull that I could only ever scroll through a few pages before I was tempted back into a book or TV show.

  The palm trees rustled in the gentle wind, and I reluctantly closed my novel as I flipped my lanyard out of my green flannel shirt. Roberts tried to make the company seem young and exciting by letting all his employees wear business casual, but I had yet to see any young person get excited at the prospect of an accounting firm. The loose shirts and sneakers didn’t add much to the overall depressing atmosphere of Roberts Incorporated.

  I glanced in the glass windows of the building as I stepped toward the revolving doors. My dark blond hair was as disheveled as usual, and I had once again forgotten to shave down my stubble. I had pulled on some dark jeans along with my well-worn Nikes. The leather jacket I’d bought when I first came here was holding up well, and it was kind of heavy for most of the Southern California days, but the Midwestern part of my soul couldn’t let me walk outside without a jacket on.

  I pushed into the lobby to see the security desk manned by one of the only people I liked in this whole building. Stan must have been almost sixty, and he had worked in security all his life. His dark skin was lined with wrinkles, but he could still dart around like a man half his age. I often came down to help him with the dodgy computer he had been given for his desk, and he would always grab me a coffee while I worked on it. Those jobs always ended up lasting hours longer than necessary just so we could chat about his younger years.

  “Morning!” Stan called as I strolled up to the turnstiles to swipe in.

  The security desk sat to the right of the lobby after you scanned yourself in, and Stan’s deep brown eyes would stare into your damn soul if you glanced his way. It was pretty rare that he ever asked anyone to step aside, and his eye for concealed weapons was insane. That had been proven the day one of the workers brought in his kid’s water pistol, and Stan called it the second the dude walked through the doors.

  He wore a cop-like uniform as he sat back in his office chair, and his stern face broke into a grin as he waved.

  “Hey, Stan.” I smiled as I headed to his desk. “Anyone suspicious this morning?”

  “Pffft,” he snorted. “They’re all damn suspicious. Don’t trust a single one as far as I could throw ‘em.”

  “Maybe one day Roberts will bring in a gun,” I said. “I would pay good money to see you bring him down.”

  “You wouldn’t have to pay,” Stan said. “I would knock out that slimy asshole for free.”

  His eyes darted down to my book, and he tilted his head to read the title.

  “Last in the series,” I said as I showed him the cover. “Hoping I get to finish it today. If people can remember how to open their own files and turn their printers on.”

  “Unlikely,” Stan chuckled. “You’re better than this place, Liam. You should be out in the wide world. That big brain and that good-looking face will get you places in a city like this. I’m telling you!”

  “Yeah?” I asked. “I’m kind of hoping for that, too.”

  “You’re wasted here,” the security guard said. “Don’t spend your life reporting to these assholes. Get out there and show us all what you’ve really got to offer. This is Los Angeles, baby! You can do anything you dream of here.”

  “One day.” I smiled as I slipped my book into my bag. “I’d better get up there. Roberts likes to remind me that being one minute late is the same as being one hour late.”

  “Fucking dipshit,” Stan whispered under his breath. “Off you go, boy. But you better not be here long after I retire! I mean it! Big things. You’re meant for more!”

  He waved me off as I hurried over to the silver elevator, and I slipped inside just before the doors shut. A middle-aged woman in a red pantsuit gave me a weak smile as I hit the button for the eleventh floor, and I stared out at the bright lobby as the doors slid closed. The elevator gave a familiar creak before it shot upward, and several more people piled on and off at each floor. It seemed to take forever to get to my level, and I was the last one left when it finally came to a stop.

  I prepared myself for whatever bullshit today would throw at me, and I was already dreaming of my lunch break.

  Then the doors slid open to reveal my boss standing with his watch held up, and I almost jumped at the sudden appearance of his slimy face.

  Roberts always wore a pinstriped suit, despite his insistence that his employees wear casual clothing. It felt like a power move. His black hair was slicked back with too much gel, too, and his mustache curled up at each end in a style that only young hipster guys could maybe make work. He was tall and lanky, and his beady blue eyes always lit up when he had the chance to tell someone what a bad job they were doing.

  “Morning,” I sighed as I strolled straight past him into the landing.

  The eleventh floor was decorated as depressingly as possible. There was a constantly-empty water cooler below a painting of dull fruit, and the carpet was a faded blue that hadn’t been changed in about fifteen years.

  “Liam,” Roberts sighed as he hurried alongside me with his watch held out. “What time do you call this?”

  I glanced at the ticking hands and raised an eyebrow as we walked through the open door to the main office space. The staff sat glued to their computers, and they all smirked at each other as I walked toward the time clock that we still used for some stupid reason.

  I had told Roberts time and time again that I could easily set up a system on our own computers to keep track of all this. But he hated change, and so we were stuck with the pointless box that liked to randomly beep and hiss throughout the day.

  “I call this nine,” I replied as we stopped at the machine, and I punched in my number on the dingy set of buttons.

  “Work starts at nine,” Roberts said in a condescending tone. “That means you are late.”

  “No,” I said dryly as the machine confirmed my login. “If I start getting paid at nine, then I clock in at nine. If you would like me to clock in earlier, then I’ll need my contract changed to reflect the extra time on my salary.”

  I stood unflinchingly and stared at Roberts as he scowled, but he hurriedly replaced his expression with an insincere smile.

  “Always the joker,” he said. “Have a good day, Liam. Make sure to man your phone, I expect we might need you a lot today!”

  He spun around and marched into his small office, and I headed over to my desk in the back c orner of the room.

  I swung my backpack off and stuffed it under the table as I sat down on the uncomfortable swivel chair that was missing a wheel. My table was covered in bits of scribbled-on paper, and I tried to shuffle them together into some kind of organized pile. Tidiness wasn’t my natural strong point, but I tried to do a clear-out once a week to keep it relatively under control.

  I had a few bobbleheads of science fiction characters beside my stacks of notebooks, and I had pinned a Star Trek calendar up on the back of the booth. There were two lock picking puzzles that I liked to test my picking skills on to pass some time, and a third lock I’d just bought that I was excited to get started on. I slipped the game into my jacket pocket so I didn’t forget it on my break if I finished my book.

  The phone on my desk suddenly began to ring, and I sighed as I picked it up before I had even turned on my computer.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Liam,” Roberts said, and I glanced up to see him give me a wave through his glass walls.

  His slimy face was stern, and he began to pace around as if he was delivering grave news.

  “Uh-huh,” I said. “How can I help you?”

  “There seems to be a breach in security in the office,” Roberts whispered. “I didn’t want to say anything in the middle of the office, but someone has been victim to a virus.”

  “Okay,” I groaned. “Who?”

  “It really seems like we need to up our security,” Roberts said. “Brian’s email address sent out a very rude picture indeed, and he swears he’s been hacked. It must be one of those Anonymous people! The ones who break in to steal secret information.”

  “Someone hacked Brian’s email,” I repeated. “To send everyone in the office… a rude picture?”

  “Well, it obviously wasn’t him,” Roberts scoffed. “Yes, it’s sick what youngsters do for fun nowadays. Get it seen to! He can’t work until it’s fixed!”

  Roberts hung up before I could reply, and I looked over at Brian to see the guy sipping an iced coffee as he played his Nintendo Switch. He was a few years younger than me, and he was also Roberts’ nephew. I didn’t blame him for not giving a shit about the job, but he was such an entitled asshole about it. There had been a few times I’d tried to speak with the guy about what games he was playing, but he scoffed at me as if I was his fucking servant.

  So the kid had clearly sent some gross or “sexy” picture out and accidently added Roberts to the recipient list.

  What a thrilling start to the morning.

  I placed the phone down as I ran a hand through my hair.

  Who even sent joke emails out anymore? Maybe the stupidity of it was the funny bit.

  I got to my feet and strode over to Brian’s desk, and he didn’t look up from his game as I stopped inches in front of him.

  He had the same slimeball look that his uncle did, but Brian’s hair was at least less full of gel. His gray tracksuit was very much pushing the business casual rule, but I had no doubt that Roberts would never bring it up. The old guy was terrified of looking uncool to his nephew.

  “Hey,” I said. “Roberts said somebody hacked your work email?”

  “It would appear so,” Brian sighed dramatically as he stared at his Switch. “Such a shitter. Major bad vibes. Can you fix it for me, bruh?”

  He slowly got to his feet without looking up from his game and strolled toward the break room. Presumably to take a breather from the exhausting work he had been doing all morning.

  I sat down in his chair which was ridiculously more comfortable than mine, and I switched on his computer. His desk was filled with empty coffee cups and stank of his overpowering cologne. When I opened his browser, I could see he hadn’t even bothered to close any tabs or even delete his search history. The Instagram page of a bikini-clad influencer popped up, and I raised an eyebrow as I noticed he had left her comments on each of her selfies. She had two million followers, but Brian clearly thought his heart-eye emojis and requests for a direct message would be picked out from the thousands of others.

  I closed the tab to see another open for a protein shake company, and another that actually had his work email. The outbox was full of shit-talking between him and other colleagues, mostly about his uncle and how they could get away with anything in this place. It didn’t take a lot of scrolling through each message to see that sending out pictures of topless models and photoshopped images of naked celebrities was a favorite pastime of Brian’s. The most recent one had Roberts added as the final recipient, and it was obvious that he had hit his name instead of Richard’s.

  “I’m basically the fucking IT babysitter,” I sighed.

  I liked beautiful women as much as the next guy, but you just didn’t do this shit at work. It was really unprofessional.

  I glanced over at the window beside me and wished I was anywhere else on Earth but in this shitty accounting firm. Deleting some guy’s porno pics wasn’t exactly in my job description, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what Stan had said at the security desk. I knew I was meant for more than this, but I had no idea what I even wanted now.

  I had dreamed of facing new challenges every day when I moved to L.A., but my brain hadn’t once been stimulated at work.

  There was enough in my bank to just about last one month of job searching without any new income. Maybe I should risk it and quit? Surely I could find something else before my meager savings ran out? But if I didn’t, then I would be in a shittier position than I was now.

  I would have to move back to my folks’ place, or crash on a buddy’s couch. Neither option was very appealing, and my mind wandered to those penthouses with balconies and the fancy doorman. I could just picture how spacious the rooms would be, and how I could sit looking out at the beach with a beer and a book.

  “Liam?” Roberts asked as he suddenly appeared beside me.

  “Yeah,” I said as I glanced up at his twitching face.

  “Don’t dream on company time,” he said. “Did you find them? Did you catch the hacker?”

  “Sure did,” I said as I clicked on the sent emails one by one. “It seems the problem is that your nephew likes to email pictures of tits to people, and he accidentally copied you in one of those emails.”

  Several of my co-workers snorted with muffled laughter as I sat back in the chair, and Roberts’ face flushed as he glared down at me. He knew absolutely nothing about technology, but he was clearly desperate to find someone to blame other than his nephew.

  “Bullshit,” Roberts hissed. “He wouldn’t do that! Brian loves this job! Did you check for hackers properly?”

  “Sure did,” I sighed as I prepared to list off a bunch of nonsense he’d never pick up on. “And sadly, I went right into the hacker mainframe support system interface. It clearly said that nobody hacked this email address.”

  “Really?” Roberts spluttered. “Are you sure you checked this mainframe properly?”

  I tried not to laugh at his instant belief in my obvious bullshit, and I nodded solemnly.

  “The hacker interface never lies,” I said. “You might want to have a chat with him.”

  I got to my feet before my boss could say another word, and I strolled back to my desk. Brian was called into Roberts’ office, and I spent the rest of the morning answering questions that had more to do with common sense than IT.

  How do I save a spreadsheet within a spreadsheet? Can I unsend an email I sent five hours ago and has already been read? What’s the best font?

  Some of my colleagues were okay. Debs and Anita just quietly did their jobs each day, but the guys seemed to think they were in some elite club of accounting highfliers. Their booming laughter and snide remarks filled the office, and I slid my earbuds in to drown out the annoying noise. They all high-fived Brian when he strolled back to his desk, and I watched as he started watching Pornhub on this monitor.

  Then I stared at the clock until it hit twelve, and I grabbed my bag as I headed straight for the break room door. The chicken wrap and book would take me away from this stupid bullshit for a little while at least.

  “Liam!” Roberts called as he stuck his head out of his office. “Remember that lunch lasts forty minutes exactly! I need you back here the moment you’re done. I think someone hacked Richard’s email this time.”

 

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