Only Through Love: A Cane River Romance Novella (11 page)

            “Invictus?”

            “I
am the master of my soul, the captain of my fate. Invictus, the poem by William
Ernest Henley. Definitely her mood today.” As tired as he was, Paul’s love for
Aurora was tangible.

            Charlie
saw that Father Tom and Austin had stopped at the desk to talk to Bix. She
swallowed, gathering her courage. “Paul, I was wondering if I could come see
you at the new headquarters tomorrow?”

            His
brows went up. “Are you taking the job? I meant what I said. We could really
use a programmer like you.”

            “I
definitely want to look around.” That was true. “You could tell me about the
projects you have in the works.” She wanted to take those words back. The last
thing she needed was to have insider knowledge of all their projects. If
anything leaked out, he wouldn’t think she was innocent twice.

            “You’ve
got it.” He seemed happier than she’d seen him in a while. “Nine a good time? I
could make it earlier but I have a meeting. And you’re coming to dinner at Gideon’s
place after Mass, right? Let it all settle and then we can talk more about it
then.”

            Charlie
felt unease slide through her. By Sunday, Paul and Alice might not be speaking
to her. “Sure, but I don’t want to take over the party. I don’t need much time.
Just a―”

            He
scoffed. “Take over the party? I’ll be thrilled to have someone other than Andy
to talk to about work.”

            He
was already assuming she’d take the job. Maybe he didn’t know she’d written
that virus. Maybe it really would be a terrible surprise. The thought of seeing
Paul’s anger and disappointment made her rethink whether Austin’s plan right.
She could lose everything and everyone… again.

            As
she was changing her mind, Ruby through the back door, basket in hand. She
waved, smiling brightly. “Look,
sha
, I brought you a basket of goodies.
I just hate the thought of you in that ugly little apartment, eating food out
of a box.”

            “Which
apartment?” Paul asked, frowning.

            “It’s…
not that ugly,” Charlie said.

            “Bonnie
Jean’s cousin Judy has an uncle who has a girlfriend who lives there. She says
it’s more depressing than the evening news. And smelly. “ Ruby plunked the
basket in Charlie’s arms. “Here, fresh biscuits and gravy. The little
Tupperware is pork sausage gravy, just made it myself about an hour ago. It’ll
keep a few days.”

            “We
should help you look for a different place. You shouldn’t have to live in a
dump.” Paul looked concerned for her welfare, as if she wasn’t a full grown
woman.

            “Oh,
that smells amazing.” She didn’t answer Paul, plucking a biscuit from under the
patterned kitchen towel. “And they’re still warm.”

            “Do
I smell  biscuits?” Father Tom was suddenly at her elbow, eyeing the basket.

            “Not
for you,” Ruby said, laughing. “And I know you make great biscuits. Leave the
poor girl alone.”

            “Mmm,
Tom can, but I can’t. I’m a terrible cook.” Austin was at her other elbow,
giving his best puppy dog eyes.

            Charlie
pulled back the towel. “They’re warm. Take one. I can’t possibly eat them all.”
She pushed the basket toward Father Tom, then Austin, then Paul. Maybe everyone
would stop talking about her apartment and no one would ask why she was renting
over there in the first place.

            “Oh,
you. What a soft heart.” Ruby tried to look as if she disapproved but she
couldn’t quite manage it.

            “Ruby,
you brought biscuits?” Alice came forward, inhaling. “They smell like they just
came out of the oven.”

            “Here,”
Charlie said, offering her one. “And for Aurora?”

            “Oh,
no―,” Alice started to say.

            “Sure,
she loves―,” Paul said at the same time.

            “―she’s
too little.”

            “―a
bite of biscuit.”

            They
looked at each other and there was an awkward moment where Charlie didn’t know
whether Alice was going to laugh or cry. “Well, it looks like Aurora’s been
enjoying a few culinary delights while I get the store opened up in the
morning.”

            “She
really likes strawberries,” Paul said.

            “I
knew it,” Charlie cried. “She always smells like strawberries.”

            “And
maybe that’s why her tummy hurts,” Alice said, giving Paul a look.

            “Oh.
I never thought of that.” He kissed Aurora’s little head. “Sorry,
sha
, I
wasn’t thinking.”

            “She’s
not old enough to suck on a biscuit,” Ruby said, frowning. “A few more months
and she’ll be eating everything in sight, but for right now―” She took
Aurora from Paul and snuggled her close. “We have to start her out right. There
will be time for biscuits later.”

           
Start
her out right.
Charlie had never thought she was ill-equipped for college.
She was a quick learner, a better programmer than most of her online friends,
and knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. But she didn’t know how
to rely on other people. Not really. When things got tough, she just barreled
through, trying her best to fix it herself. Somewhere, she’d decided that if
she asked for help, it meant she was weak. It felt great to be independent, the
best in her class, she didn’t need anybody. Now she had the grown up version of
Aurora’s tummy ache. She was miserable.

            “I’ll
miss her strawberry smell,” Charlie said, reaching out for Aurora’s little
hand. “But I won’t miss all that fussing.”

            She
looked up and saw Austin watching her. The expression on his face was hard to
decipher but he seemed to be saying that he believed in her, that he knew she
could bring herself out of the dark shadow that had covered the last six months.
She gave him the tiniest nod. Tomorrow she would face Paul and tell him the
truth. It didn’t matter whether he knew already or not. It was her
responsibility to explain what happened. Being proud and silent had felt good
in a way, but it was hurting her relationships with everyone she knew and
loved. Her pride was making her sick and it was time to ask for help.

A whale ship was my Yale College
and my Harvard. ― Herman Melville

            “Have
a good interview,” Alice said. She reached up and brushed back Charlie’s hair.
“Sorry, I’m not crying. Not really. I’m just not ready for everything to
change.”

            “Nothing
is changing. I’ll still be here part time.” Charlie hoped that was true. If
things went well, she hoped they’d still be friends. She gave Alice a quick hug
and then leaned over Aurora’s play pen. She was sleeping peacefully, now that
Paul had stopped the illicit strawberry breakfasts. Her arms were thrown out
wide, tiny fists curled tight. Her T-shirt read “After a Full Belly, All is
Poetry”.

            “Who
gave her this one?” Charlie whispered, motioning to the shirt.

            “I
made it online,” Alice whispered back. “You can make anything now.” She paused,
a frown line appearing between her brows. “It’s a Frank McCourt quote. I didn’t
credit him because there wasn’t enough room. Do you think that’s copyright
infringement? I mean, the T-shirt is just for her. I’m not selling them. But
people will read it off her and might think I made that up.” She was looking
more worried by the second. “I can’t stand it when people don’t give credit.
Maybe I should redo the shirt and put his name in small print on the back?”

            Charlie
reached out and hugged her, hard. “Oh, Alice,” she said.

            Alice
laughed a little. “You think I’m being ridiculous.”

            “No,
you’re perfect.” Charlie turned around, trying to wipe a tear from her eye
without being noticed. “I should go. I won’t be long. A few hours at most. Call
me if I should come back sooner.”

            Alice
switched to Creole. “
Sha
, don’t worry about us.
Bon chance
!”

            “Merci,”
Charlie said and walked away before she really started to cry. If it was just
an interview, it wouldn’t matter. But so many people she loved might not speak
to her by day’s end and it was scarier than having a thousand internet trolls
on her trail.

                                                            ***

            “I
don’t understand.” Francis Bernard narrowed his ice blue eyes at Austin. “You
want to report a student cheating four years ago… and it’s you?”

            “Yes,
sir.” Austin tried not to look crazy. It wasn’t working. The dean of students looked
like he was on the verge of calling campus security.

            “You
have a good job and drove hours to meet with me just to tell me you cheated on
some tests?”

            “Well,
I…” Austin stared at his feet. “I never cheated on my own papers or tests. I
was helping a girl― someone else. She― they were failing and needed
to pass the class.”

            “But
you did all your work and took your own tests?”

            “Yes,
sir. But you see, I was cheating.” He felt like the conversation was slipping
away from him. “And I know that anyone caught cheating will be expelled. So
that makes my degree null and void.”

            The
dean leaned forward and fixed Austin with a look. “Do you like your job, Mr.
Becket?”

            “Yes,
sir.” He loved everything about it except the fact he didn’t deserve to hold
the position.

            As
if he’d been given the wrong answer, Francis Bernard sat back in his chair,
frowning. After a few minutes of awkward silence he said, “Okay, this is what
we’re gonna do. I’ll make a note in your file. If anyone makes the effort to
inquire into your degree, that note will be there. I’m not going to ask about
the other student because you didn’t bring any proof and don’t seem keen on
sharing that information. These are very serious allegations and charges.”

            “I
know, sir.”

            “For
right now, I’m going to tell you to go back to Natchitoches and have a talk
with your supervisor. If he thinks you should still be working there, then
you’d best be thanking him for it.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “And I’ll
bring this up at our next meeting. If most of the disciplinary committee agrees
that we need to know all the details, then I’ll contact you and you might have
to come back.”

            Austin
nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

            The
dean shook his head. “I admire you, son. I admire your ethics and integrity.
But I hope you don’t let this shape the rest of your life. You’ve confessed it,
now move past it.”

            That
sounded a lot like something Tom or Gideon would say. Austin stood up and held
out his hand. “Thank you, sir. Again.”

            “You’re
welcome.” And this time he smiled, as if there was something about Austin that
made him a little happier. “Now get back to your job.”

            “Yes,
sir.” Austin left the office and felt like a burden the size of his apartment
had been lifted from his shoulders. Sure, it had sounded crazy and looked
crazier, but coming clean to the school made him feel like he could finally
start living. Maybe the rest of the world would call it scruples and tell him
to get over himself, but Austin knew better. His daddy said if a man wasn’t
honest in the little things, he wouldn’t be in the big things, either. 

            Walking
back through campus, he thought of Megan and wondered where she was. He hoped
she had found some peace, maybe grown up the same way he had. Getting to a
place where he wished Megan well had taken a lot of time. Loving her, and
realizing later that he hadn’t really been loved in return , was one of the most
painful experiences of his life. Maybe now he understood. Maybe finally he
would remember that a true friend would never ask him to go against his
beliefs.

            Gideon
had told him once he was soft-hearted and had made it sound like a compliment.
Austin didn’t want to be soft-hearted. He wanted to be discerning and
skeptical. If he could trade his natural tendency to empathize, for Gideon’s
natural tendency to scare the stuffing out of people, he might just take it.
But he couldn’t change. He was born with a heart that accepted people as they
were, and sometimes made excuses for their bad behavior, as dangerous as that
was to his own moral standing.

            Looking
up at the clear blue sky, Austin prayed that Charlie was feeling the same
freedom from her secrets. Of course she was no saint, none of them were, but
Austin knew she didn’t deserve condemnation. She had the same fatal flaw as he
did. They loved too much, believed too easily, would do anything for the people
they loved.

            Their
kiss flashed through his memory. They say opposites attract and keep each other
balanced, but kissing Charlie felt like finding a part of himself that had been
missing, except he hadn’t known it was lost. Maybe it was a spur of the moment
thing and it hadn’t meant anything to her but a nice kiss. But just like
everything else about Charlie, he felt it held the promise of something
indescribably precious.

                                                            ***

            “So,
what was your favorite part of the tour? The IMAX screen? The virtual reality
room? The mobile gaming development area? It’s probably weird to see all those
people pinching the air and watching the game from across the room. We’re
trying to see how far we can identify individual fingers when we put the game
up on a big screen.”  Paul punched a button on the shiny silver panel and the
elevator smoothly started its climb.

            “Oh,
the cupcake bar, I guess.” Charlie stared out of the glass walls and after a
few moments, they cleared the trees. The campus of ScreenStop headquarters
appeared, parking lot full of cars to the left and rolling grass with newly
planted trees to the right. The city of Natchitoches retreating below them, the
river shining in the sun like a silk ribbon.

            “Very
funny.” Paul followed her gaze and pointed toward the Northeastern area. “By
the Book is over there. I can see if from my office. It’s a whole lot better
than looking out my Southern window in New York City and knowing it’s a long
plane flight just to kiss my wife and little girl.”

            Charlie
smiled, but her nerves were jangling like plucked banjo strings. In minutes,
she’d sit in front of Paul and tell him that she was the reason his company had
lost five years of work and hundreds of millions of dollars in value.

            The
elevator doors slide open and he waved her out into the foyer. An older woman
sat at a glossy, rounded desk. She glanced up with a smile.

            “This
is Mrs. Connor. If she ever quits, my entire business will explode in a fiery
shower of phone message slips and meeting notes. I’m glad she decided to move
to Natchitoches with the headquarters. Otherwise, I would have called the whole
thing off.”

            “Oh,
you.” Mrs. Connor said, but Charlie could tell Paul was telling the truth and
everyone in the room knew it.

            “And
in here, we have the gaming consoles for testing purposes.” He paused and
cocked his head. “You’re not even going to ask why there’s an old school Ms.
Pacman arcade game in the corner? It’s because this is actually where Andy and
I decompress after a long day of being adults. ”

            “What?”
Charlie swiveled her head, finally noticing the row of arcade games. “Sorry, I
was looking at the view.” It was a lame excuse, since she’d lived in
Natchitoches her whole life and wasn’t awed by any of it, whether on the
sidewalk or thirty stories up.

            “Why
don’t we sit down.” He ushered her into an ergonomic chair and opened a small
section of the black paneling. “Would you like a Coke? Or juice?”

            She
almost reminded him that she’d enjoyed some fresh pressed apple juice
downstairs. Maybe Paul felt as nervous as she did. “Coke would be nice.”

            He
popped the cap. “Glass?”

            “No,
that’s fine.” She took the bottle and held it in her hands, wishing the cold
glass could absorb some of her anxiety.

            Paul
sat across from her, hands resting on his knees. “So, where would you―”

            “I
wrote the trojan that infiltrated your servers and copied all your projects.”

            He
blinked.

            “I
wrote the program but I never intended it to be used that way. I never imagined
it would be. I was just showing off.”

            “I
know.”

            “You
know… I was showing off or that I wrote it?” He didn’t seem upset. In fact, he
seemed worried about her.

            He
held out a hand, in the gesture one makes when they want to calm a skittish
horse. “We tracked down the source code within days. We fed it right into a
stylometry code that we bought to track down malware.”

            She
gripped the bottle. “And it brought up my name?”

            Paul
nodded. “But even before it matched it to programs you’d written that were out
on the web, I knew.”

            “But
how? I spent all my time writing games. I never… I didn’t ever want to…”

            “Andy
says my code looks like poetry, lots of white space.” He smiled, as if he
really liked that assessment. “When you work with someone, you get to know
them, the way they think and the choices they make when they’re constructing
something really complicated. And I know your work, Charlie.”

            She
sat back, her heart still pounding. She didn’t need to ask him to contact the
FBI. Of course they were already on it. “And you’re not mad?”

            “Mad?
Of course I’m mad. And we’ve been tracking them for months. We’re almost ready
to lower the hammer.”

            “On
us?”

            He
shook his head, confused. “They stole it from you, correct?”

            “Well,
it was a dare.” It sounded so stupid now. “I never gave them permission to use
it.”

            “Exactly.
And your friend Tyler is going to be in a world of hurt.”

            She
sucked in a breath. “You found him?”

            “Yep,
but his real name is Clint McRaney. Forty years old. Fixes hard drives for a
living. Currently residing in Arkansas.”

            She
grimaced at the description. “You must think I’m the dumbest person around.”

            “No,
not at all. Phishing wouldn’t be an epidemic if regular people didn’t fall for
it. You didn’t have any reasons to disbelieve him. As for the virus…” He wiped
a hand over his face. “My mama says fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight,
and bull-strong. We weren’t secure enough. That was my fault. We learned a
painful lesson that day, and we made our security tighter than tight. In fact,
I was hoping that you would be interesting in working in that area. I know
you’re a gamer, and you can work on development or illustration, too, but we
need someone who can code like a hacker.”