Double Vision by Fiona Brand

could get on the pretext of needing a clear space to set her coffee down.
    Dana frowned as she moved a computer printout, obviously not comfortable with the coffee on her desk, but too polite to insist that Esther remove it.
    â€œSorry about the mess.” Dana stacked the papers Esther had pushed to one side and found a clear spot for them at the end of the desk. “I’m in the middle of a systems rehash. I don’t need to tell you what a nightmare that is.” She made a face. “The managing director wants more detailed reporting. Although, I don’t know what more he expects to see, other than the color of our clients’ underwear.”
    â€œCould be an interesting database.”
    â€œIt might be, if there was anything in it but Y-fronts.” Dana reddened, realizing she’d made a borderline offensive comment to a potential client. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I missed breakfast and I’m on late lunch. My blood sugar is way down.”
    Esther forced a smile. “No problem. At a corporate level, Cesar doesn’t allow Y-fronts.”
    Dana’s blush deepened. “You are kidding.”
    â€œUnfortunately.” Esther rummaged in her handbag on the pretext that she was searching for something.
    â€œI was sure I put business cards in here this morning.” Looking distracted and faintly annoyed, she set her bag down and leaned forward with enough swing that her elbow caught the coffee cup. Hot liquid splashed across the desk.
    With a yelp, Dana shoved back in her office chair a split second before a wave of coffee slid over the side and dripped onto the carpet.
    Already on her feet, Esther snatched a handful of tissues from a box on the desk. Apologizing profusely, she dropped them on the puddle, then, in a smooth motion, leaned over and lifted the keyboard away from a trickle of liquid.
    The card was there.
    Pretending to overbalance as she swiped at the coffee, she managed to flip the card around with the soaked tissue. The codes and the password were written in clear, bold black ink.
    Dana grabbed at the card before a second stray trickle of coffee reached it. “Busted.” She flushed bright red as she slid the card in her drawer. “I guess you don’t have to remember access codes anymore. Not that you ever had a problem. They change them twice weekly here, Monday and Thursday. That was one of the reasons I left Bessel Holt, I couldn’t stand the twenty-four-hour turnaround and my supervisor was constantly breathing down my neck.”
    She grabbed a handful of tissues, dropped them on the carpet and blotted more coffee. Her face was still flushed, her voice jerky with embarrassment. “I lived in fear of him checking beneath my keyboard. I’m all for security, but those people were anal.”
    Esther resumed her seat and worked to control her own breathing and the steady pump of adrenaline that was making her hands shake. She was more than happy to listen to Dana’s nervy conversation, anything to distract her from realizing she had gotten a look at the codes. She didn’t think anyone but her immediate superior at Bessel Holt had known about her photographic memory, but she didn’t want to take any risks. It was an unhappy fact that somehow Xavier had found out about it. “Two years was enough for me. I couldn’t keep up with the young computer nerds.”
    Dana tossed soiled tissues into the trash. “Tell me about it. There’s a kid almost young enough to be my son running this place. Not,” she said quickly, “that he isn’t qualified, he is, but—”
    â€œI know what you’re saying. It’s hard to credit it.”
    Her smile was relieved. “Exactly. Kids seem extra bright these days. The way their minds work is frightening.” Her gaze lingered on the ring. “I hear you’ve got a daughter.”
    â€œThat’s right, Rina. She’s