Читать книгу Hello, Gorgeous! - MaryJanice Davidson - Страница 18

“Helloooooo?” She went down the stairs. There was only one life sign in the basement, and he was focused on the computer. He wasn’t remotely nervous, or even anxious. In fact, he didn’t seem to care that she was there at all.

She waited for the chip in her head to give her some advice, or at least a readout, but nothing. Nada. Maybe it was taking a break.

“Ma, I said I needed more Hot Pockets and that was it,” he said without turning around. “C’mon, I gotta work.”

“Yes, well, um, I’m here to put an end to your, um, evil ways. And stuff.”

He turned around and gaped at her. Terrance Filit was the stereotypical nerd—thick glasses, Star Trek T-shirt, faded jeans, skinny bod—but he had the biggest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Paul Newman eyes. Or creepy-kid-from-Godsend eyes, if you wanted to get really picky…

“Are you looking for my mom?” he asked, dazzled.

She smiled. Luckily, she’d taken the time to do some red lowlights in contrast with her white blond strands. The Boss could say what he wanted, but he could never say she’d gone on assignment not looking her best. “No, I passed her on the way out. I was sent here from an elite government agency to…never mind, it sounds lame even before I say it out loud.”

“God, you’re really tall.”

“Thanks.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked stern. “Look, you gotta quit with the viruses, okay? I mean, a couple of them were funny, but people can’t work. Think if you came home and your computer was totally on the fritz. It would, like, totally disrupt your life.”

“I’d love to come home and find my computer was stuffed with porn,” he confessed. “It’s better than—” Terry reddened and looked away. “Never mind.”

Neutralize him, the Boss said in her head. Creepy. That better not be her chip. If he had access to her chip, she was kicking his ass severe.

He’d love to come home and find his computer stuffed with porn?

The viruses were all pornographic in nature…if your hard drive got infected, it pulled all sorts of porn from the Web and dumped it into your drive. Or, worse, had everyone in your e-mail box e-mail you porn. It was kind of funny, just the sort of thing a kid—a boy—would find amusing.

A boy so focused on porn because he had no experience with the real thing, and as a result was massively curious as well as massively—

She unbuttoned her coat. “Mind if I stay a few minutes?”

“Are you going to shoot me?” he gasped.

“No.”

Thirty-six seconds later

“Wow!” Terry cried. “That was just so totally wow!”

“You’re uh, eighteen, right?” I didn’t just commit statutory rape, right?

“Nineteen in June. Um. That was so…I gotta get in the Darth chat room and tell all the guys!”

“Yes, yes. Now, listen. You can’t design any more of these—”

“Who wants to do that now?” he said impatiently, waving at his computer and looking generally disgusted. “I’ve got other stuff to worry about. You’ve—you’ve opened up a whole new world for me! I’ll never design another virus again!”

That sure sounded like neutralized to her. Good ’nuf. “Alrighty, then,” she said, slipping into her panties, leggings, bra, and cashmere turtleneck. She pulled on her wool socks and stepped into her boots. “Make sure you keep your word, or I’ll have to come back and, um, neutralize you again.”

He nearly fell off the couch they’d dallied on. “Really?”

“Shut up, Terry,” she said kindly, and shrugged into her coat and walked out.