| Subject: Chapter 5 |
Author:
Juli
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Date Posted: Thursday, May 25, 12:44:08pm
In reply to:
Juli
's message, "Anti-Virus" on Wednesday, May 17, 05:25:56pm
Chapter 5
Nikita twisted the ponytail holder into her hair and then put one foot up on the front step of their apartment as she stretched her long legs prior to her morning run. Since it was Saturday, she was going for her regular long run on the beach. Leaning her head one way and then the other to wake up, she stretched her arms over her head and then started for the beach at a slow, warm-up pace.
She turned north at the beach and hopped onto the bike path that ran parallel to the water and the beachfront homes and apartments. The weather was cool and dry, and Nikita turned up the volume on her iPod as she moved into a faster pace.
She was in her “zone” by the time she hit the first mile and the apartments changed to more expensive homes. Nikita instinctively glanced at the beautiful beach front homes as she ran past. As she rounded the bend and started uphill, she glanced on the back patio of one home and was surprised to see a man there. He was dressed in loose black drawstring pants and nothing else. As he moved, she could see that he was engaged in some sort of martial arts routine.
He turned as Nikita came into view. In the next moment, two things happened. Nikita recognized the man she had told Carla about, and her running shoe contacted a piece of sidewalk that was higher than the one before it. Momentum and gravity played their respective parts, and Nikita tripped, sprawling out onto the sand.
Michael hurried over, thanking the fates for literally throwing this opportunity into his lap. He had planned to have her see him, but he couldn’t have orchestrated her fall any better.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, helping her up.
Nikita blushed, trying the brush the sand off of herself. She stammered out an unintelligible reply as Michael helped her up.
“What was that?” Michael asked, his hand still on her elbow to steady her.
“I.. I’m fine,” she finally managed to get out. “I should watch where I’m running.”
“It looks like there is a section of sidewalk that has lifted,” Michael pointed out.
“Yeah,” Nikita said, feeling stupid, but recovered quickly. “I just didn’t realize that anyone was living here. I thought it was for sale.”
Good recovery Michael thought.
“I’m leasing it for the summer. I haven’t decided if I want to buy it yet,” he told her, giving her his cover.
“Oh,” she replied lamely, nodding her head.
“Can I get you some water?” Michael offered inclining his head toward the house.
Nikita realistically knew that she should decline. Single women didn’t just go inside a strange man’s house. But she was drawn in by the man’s mossy green eyes.
“Um, ok,” she agreed, wondering if she was making a mistake.
“Great,” Michael said, gifting her with a dazzling smile. “I’ll be right back. Have a seat,” he told her, waving at a patio set with four chairs.
Nikita felt a little relieved and a little disappointed that he hadn’t asked her inside. But she realized that it was for the best. What could happen if she stayed out here? At the very least, one of the surfers that were always around the beach at this time of the morning would hear her if she screamed.
She made her way to a chair and nearly tripped again as she watched her shirtless companion stalk into the house.
“Yummy,” she thought, remembering Carla’s word.
A few moments later, Michael returned with two bottles of water. Nikita drank in the sight of him. He grabbed a towel that was hanging on the rail and threw it around his neck, wiping down his face, then dropped into the chair beside her.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the water bottle that he offered.
“My name’s Michael,” he told her, twisting off the cap and taking a swallow.
Nikita’s mouth went dry. “Nikita,” she said hoarsely.
“Ni-ki-ta,” Michael repeated, caressing the syllables in her name. “A uniquely beautiful name,” he told her.
Nikita realized she was staring and mentally kicked herself. “Thanks,” she replied with a smile. “Can I assume from your accent that you are not a native?”
Michael returned the smile. “No, I am not from the U.S. I grew up in Quebec,” he told her.
“Canada? Hmmmm. So you can get some good drugs, huh?” Nikita said, feeling her heartbeat returning to normal.
Michael laughed, genuinely charmed. “I’ll have to check with my contacts,” he joked back. “How about you?”
“Down under,” Nikita said, taking a sip of water. “Born and raised. I came to the states to go to college.”
Michael nodded. “And now?” he asked.
Nikita was surprised at how comfortable she felt. “I’m a chemist,” she said, wishing it were something more glamorous.
“A chemist! Wow, that’s got to be pretty cutting edge these days,” he exclaimed. “With all the DNA stuff, and medical breakthroughs.”
Nikita couldn’t believe her luck. “Yes and no. Sometimes it’s a lot of research and number crunching for weeks and weeks, and then, every once in a while, we hit on something really amazing,” she explained.
They continued to talk for a long time and Nikita didn’t realize the time until the sun came over the roof of the house and hit her square in the eyes. She glanced at her watch.
“Oh wow, is it really that late?” she said, standing.
“I’m sorry,” Michael apologized. “Did you have an appointment?”
“Uh, no, not really, I guess,” Nikita said, realizing that she didn’t have anywhere to go.
“This might seem too forward, but would you be interested in getting together for dinner later?” he asked, mentally crossing his fingers.
Nikita’s smile dazzled in the sunlight. “I’d like that, Michael,” she replied.
She told him where she lived, and they set a time to meet. Then Nikita made her way back out onto the bike path and headed south this time, returning to her apartment.
Michael walked back into the house and swapped out his water bottle for a shot of tequila. He pretended not to notice that his hand shook as he poured from the bottle, splashing some of the liquor on the marble counter. He didn’t want to admit to himself, or anyone else, how much she had affected him.
“It’s just a job,” he warned himself aloud. “Get your mind where it needs to be.”
He downed the shot in one gulp and then went to call Walter and Birkoff.
***
Later that day, Michael was working on deep breathing exercises as he stood outside of Nikita’s door. Finally, mentally prepared, he knocked. Nikita came to the door with a smile on her face.
“C’mon in,” she said, opening the door wide and stepping back.
Michael tried not to stare. Nikita was dressed unlike anything he had ever seen her in. During the course of their reconnaissance, he had never seen her in anything but black, or fatigues, or combat boots. Now the stunningly feminine outfit she wore shocked him speechless. The dress was a light blue silk, appropriate for the warm weather this time of year, with thin braided straps. Her hair was down, not in her characteristic ponytail. She wore a thin silver chain around her neck, and Michael thought he spotted a matching anklet around her bare ankles.
“I’m just about ready,” Nikita called hurrying off into the other room, seemingly unaware of Michael’s stunned silence. “I just have to grab my shoes and sweater.”
Giving himself a mental shake, Michael began to glance around the apartment, his mind quickly entering “mission mode.” He knew that his best chance of finding what he needed was here in her apartment, but he didn’t have the time to search thoroughly right now.
He studied the eclectic apartment full of art and art supplies. He knew from Birkoff’s research, that Nikita’s roommate, Carla, was a sculptor who worked from their apartment. He could see some of the pieces that must be hers and was impressed. He also noticed Nikita’s motorcycle helmet on the table and shook his head at the incongruity of the woman. He never could have matched the woman that his research “showed” with the woman he met this morning.
He turned from admiring a large painted canvas on the wall as Nikita returned carrying her shoes.
“Did your roommate do this?” he asked, motioning toward the painting.
“No, actually, I did that one,” she said, flushing prettily. She covered her embarrassment by leaning down to slip on high heeled sandals.
“It’s really great!” Michael said, once again amazed at the depth of Nikita’s personality.
“Thanks,” she said, straightening up.
“Ready?” Michael asked, drinking in the sight of her.
Nikita nodded and threw her sweater over her arm as Michael opened the door for her, following her out.
Nikita sighed in delight as she settled into the soft leather seat of Michael’s Porsche. She was so unused to luxury and being treated to such gentlemanly behavior. Not that Marco wasn’t a gentleman, she reminded herself, he was just not so… refined as Michael. And Michael certainly seemed to have money, she noticed as almost an afterthought.
As Michael climbed into the driver’s seat, Nikita caught the scent of Michael’s cologne and inhaled appreciatively. He smelled delicious. She realized that it had been WAY too long since she had been out on a proper date.
Before Michael had arrived, Carla had told her that she would be “out.”
“I don’t want to be here, if you need a place to come back to later,” Carla had said with a suggestive tone.
Nikita had reacted by rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Now, sitting here with Michael, she almost hoped that they might decide to “go back to her place.” Or his place – she didn’t care. The man was amazing.
“Nikita?” Michael repeated, jarring her out of her daydream.
“Huh?” she said, looking over at him, hoping he didn’t notice her flaming cheeks.
“Is seafood ok? I made reservations at The Wharf,” he told her.
“Yes, that would be great, Michael,” she said, clicking her seatbelt into place as he started the car.
Nikita listened with appreciation to the loud German motor humming as they pulled away from the apartment.
“I love this car,” she said, running a hand over the dash.
Michael nodded, agreeing with her. “What do you drive? I noticed the helmet inside. Does it mean you are a ‘two-wheeler’ versus four?” he asked.
Nikita gave a short laugh. “Yep. You’re perceptive. Yes, my ‘car’ is a motorcycle,” she answered.
“What started that, if I may ask? This may sound rude, but where does someone as beautiful as you start riding motorcycles?”
Nikita smiled at the compliment and shrugged. “I guess it started in high school. I had a scooter to get me around town. Then I had a boyfriend with a bike. I think I just got addicted to the power and freedom,” she explained.
“I can see that about you, I guess,” Michael said, realizing another bit of what made her tick.
They made polite conversation for a little while as they drove in the early evening traffic. Michael pulled into a parking space and they walked down the sidewalk toward the restaurant that sat facing the ocean directly off the beach.
The hostess seated them on the patio at a candlelit table where they had a view of the setting sun glinting over the ocean. It was a very romantic atmosphere, and Nikita almost felt out of her element. She was so used to being in control. When she and Carla went out, they called the shots, they decided where and when to go. Being with Michael was like letting go of all the control. She decided it was a relief, but also a bit scary.
Michael ordered some wine and they chatted while glancing at their menus. After the waiter had brought the wine and taken their orders, the pair settled back in their seats and began to talk.
“Michael, what do you do for a living?” Nikita asked, sipping her wine.
“Computers,” he answered, ready with his half-truth. “I have a team that makes sure that networks are secure, protects against hackers, viruses, that sort of thing.”
“That sounds cool,” Nikita said, genuinely interested. “I get spam all the time. Can you do something about that?” she said with a smile.
Michael laughed. “Sure, give me your email – I’ll have my guy put a special program on there for you. Its not on the market, but it kills everything else out there for spam protection.”
Nikita laughed too and then straightened up. “Are you serious?” she said, putting down her glass and gaping at him.
Michael smiled. “Yes. Birkoff can do anything with a computer. He may not be happy that I offered you his baby just so I could get your email address, but he’ll live.”
Nikita giggled.
“Do you have to use your computer much with your work?” Michael asked. “I suppose with all that research and atomic … stuff, you would have to.”
“Atomic stuff?” Nikita asked, raising her eyebrows and then laughing. “I guess if I started talking about computers, I’d come up with something equally as funny.”
Michael gave a self-deprecating shrug.
“Yes, I do have to work a lot with computers with the ‘atomic stuff’ as you call it. But I really hate it, no offense. I do most of my work in notebooks and then enter my results in the computer later when I’m done. I’m old school I guess. I like a regular microscope and a pen and notebook. But times are changing, and I’m forced more and more to use the computer.”
“Where do you work?” Michael asked, keeping her talking.
“I work for a company called Section One. We are doing a lot of chemical engineering and stuff. I won’t bore you with the details. A lot of time, I can do my research from home. I have a laptop,” she made a face, “so I can get online when I need to. But sometimes, like lately, I’ve had to go into the lab. Sometimes I have to work with the team, although I’m not sure why.”
“What do you mean?” Michael asked, probing for more information they could use.
“Well, its hard to explain. When I go in, it seems like my stuff doesn’t really jive with everyone else’s. I can’t figure out where we are going with it. I mean, my work is in infectious diseases right now and…” she stopped talking as their food arrived.
The moment was lost as they started to eat. As they had their meal and afterwards, enjoying the view, they talked of family, past, and hobbies. Michael was intrigued by Nikita, genuinely enjoying her company. He didn’t want to lie to her. He didn’t want to go through her apartment. As they continued to talk, Michael made up his mind. For the first time, he would tell a client that their system was secure.
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