Izzy

Seattle foot traffic is a different beast.

I didn’t want to take the underground train because small and enclosed spaces freak me out. Put that little room on wheels, and I may get sick. But the bus isn’t any better. People standing and sitting, movement pumping through the public transportation vessel constantly and making my head spin with who would sit next to me, where I would sit, and so on.

Walking seemed like the best bet, but it hasn’t gone well so far. My heels are too tight, my pencil skirt pins my knees together, and my blouse feels a bit too tight around my chest like I wore the wrong bra. I got myself together in a hurry, forgetting my umbrella, but I duck into Ivica Tech. It’s a large, glass building with iron and steel frames around each windowpane, men already working on the side, descended on ropes, as they clean the windows.

It seems rather useless, given the gray skies overhead, but in the last few days I’ve spent exploring my new home city, I’ve realized it’s just a staple of the area.

Reading the legend on the wall, I replace my office number and take the elevator to the top floor, a little surprised a new hire-on malware coding professional would be on the top floor with the executives, but that doesn’t seem to be an issue here. I pace through the top floor, my ankles on fire by now, but still clutching my briefcase to hide the unease in my legs while I can’t part my thighs much more than a few inches before my skirt tightens on my h**s.

“You must be Izzy Bellerose, right?” a meek voice asks.

I turn towards the dainty receptionist in a plaid dress better suited for a Scottish fair, her hair combed back into a ponytail with eyes like blunt sapphires. She outstretches her hand, a manicure befitting a celebrity greeting my hand as I shake her palm accordingly.

“Yeah, that’s me. Am I on the right floor?”

“Yes, ma’am, you are,” she replies dutifully.

I swallow her ma’am comment. I’m only twenty-five, young b***d in this industry, but I guess it makes sense that I look older in this setting. My thrifted skirt and mother’s blouse have aged me, and I’m sure my long, dull hair hasn’t helped, my chocolate locks once curled with the iron this morning have already fallen in the humid and moist air outside that constantly threatens rain.

“I’m Gwen,” she states, holding a grin on her pink lips, “I work directly under Mr. Ivica.”

“Oh, okay. Is he in today perhaps? I would like to introduce myself.”

“He’s not here yet. He’s on his morning break with a close business partner of his, but he will come by and introduce himself when he does arrive. I can show you to your office in the meantime if you’d like.”

“Yeah, that’s great.”

I try to not outright cheer at the fact that I have my own office.

Me. Izzy Bellerose from a tiny waterfall town in Oregon is a big city girl now, with her own f*****g office. If people weren’t watching me follow Gwen to my new office, I would fist-pump the air and high-five myself on this milestone accomplishment.

“Hey, are you sure this is mine?” I ask, double-checking the number outside the oak door. The number matches, but there must be a mistake. “Wait, so I really have a corner office next to the CEO?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she gleams. “He wanted to keep you close as his new head of coding.”

“Wait, I was under the impression I was hired for an entry-level job. What do you mean by the head of coding?”

“I’ll let Mr. Ivica know your concerns and he can get back to you when he gets back to the office. For now, get settled in, enjoy the coffee break room down the hall, or feel free to go to the loft floor for the barista-made pleasantries in that coffee shop.”

I try to scoop my chin off the floor. Act like you’ve been this successful before! Though, it feels impossible to hide my excitement at my newfound successes. I’ve never done much more than live in my parent’s old house and hack into hacker sites to dismantle them for fun. I took online courses for the basics in coding and malware, but Ivica Tech sent out a task for people to cut through an online simulation and solve the malware issue.

It was part of the application process, and I did it successfully, but I never imagined I’d be promoted before even arriving to take my lowly entry-level job. Still, it’s hard to turn down a corner office with views of the city. I can’t help but graze the glass, admiring the towers near and far through the weaving placement of Lake Washington.

It’s an interesting urban city thrusted into the wonders of waterways and bushy parks.

It’s nothing like home, but it’s home now, so I could get used to it.

I trace the mahogany desk and the chocolate leather chair in my office, the shelves on the wall stuffed full of files and packets that I don’t think I can read in one sitting. Instead, I familiarize myself with the system, pulling out my new employee handbook and replaceing my login information for the massive mounds of monitors and wires that make up my computer system.

It’s overwhelming and exciting at the same time.

Peeking up from my monitor, I meet the honey eyes of a new man, his heart molded back in slathers of sticky jell with a frown only his mother could adore. He pierces his eyes through me, not in an unkind manner, but it’s certainly not appreciative either. I can’t help but get sucked into his demeanor, his enigmatic aura dark and cold, striking me with a shiver.

I almost assume he’s Mr. Ivica, but another man, older and sporting an overdone smile, pokes his head into my office doorway shortly after. He has inky eyes and a black suit with diamond-like gems as his cufflinks. He’s daunting to look at, his back stiff while he is rigid in posture.

He’s older, his face carved in maturity with wrinkles like an English mastiff dog. “Hey, my new coder is here. Izzy, right? I’ll be with you in a minute. I’m just sending this stranger on his way.”

The other man hardly laughs, offering him a sneering sort of nod instead. “Very funny, Alek. Let’s meet at the same time on Wednesday, okay? And try not to forget about your little notes sheet this time. If you want to make a new standard in the industry, you know it has to pass over my desk first.”

“Don’t worry, old friend. You’ll get my notes. In fact, I’m about to give the task to my new hire here, so hurry out of my building before you scare her off.”

I watch the man leave, his eyes flicking up and down my body as I come to a stand in order to greet my boss. Given the position of my office doorway, there’s an obvious path that leads the man with blue irises to watch me as the elevator doors shut, something about him yanking my attention haphazardly and stealing it away.

“Hello, young lady. I’m Alek Ivica, as I’m sure you already know. How are you liking your new office?”

“It’s great, but a little more than what I was expecting, honestly.” I take my hair back, trying hard to seem at ease around his boisterous appearance, but he’s a tall man with beady eyes that fire shots through my frame—more so than the man who just left. “I thought I was hired on for the entry-level coding job.”

“That was the point of the test, yes, but the end result was a little more than I anticipated, Izzy. You downed my system and not only beat the simulation but mended the software from a third-party device. Besides that, I couldn’t get any of my guys to trace down your IP address for the life of me. It’s like you came in, unplugged everything, fixed it, and then left without a single footprint.”

I blush slightly. “Yeah, sorry. I can go over a little overboard at times, but I didn’t want to do anything wrong, so I rewrote the system.”

“It’s amazing,” he gusts. ‘You did such a good job that I had to bring you here. Without your work, we might be subjected to new ventures of hacking and malware. You’re going to do very important work here, Izzy. And don’t worry, I will compensate you accordingly. How is one-twelve?”

I swallow his words with an edge. “What do you mean, one-twelve?”

“A hundred and twelve thousand, dear. Compensation. You don’t think I’d make you head of coding without some sort of appropriate market standard of pay, do you? This isn’t an entry-level rewrite of code. You’re going to oversee the protection of this place online and keep the hackers out of our customer’s hair. All you have to do is make sure nothing touches the mainframe, and you’re good. Easy enough, right?”

“Ye—Yes, sir,” I pant in awe.

“Good. Go ahead and log into the mainframe and get familiar with it. Remember, if you ever replace anything suspicious, just let me know. I don’t need any moles in my company hearing of these issues before me, okay? They’re looking to sell me out to my biggest competitor and that a*****e doesn’t need any help in taking me down.”

My brows furrow curiously, “Who is your biggest competitor?”

“Dimitri Wilde. He was just here, the man I introduced to you.”

I part my lips, wanting to ask another set of questions, but he seems to understand my haze of confusion without me having to mention it out loud.

“Yeah, I know we act all friendly and bonded, Izzy. It’s far from the truth. He hates my guts and would do anything in his power to watch me fall. Then again, taking down his family business would be a dear dream of mine. Maybe you can help with that?”

I inch back slightly. “Are you asking me to hack him or something?”

He pauses, his eyes scanning my face as if reading my reaction before he snickers and waves me off without a second thought. “No, no. Of course not, Izzy. That would be illegal, right? We can’t spy on people’s systems like that. Let’s just keep your focus on the malware issues coming at our motherboard, and we can deal with Dimitri later, okay?”

Still slightly uneasy, I can’t help but notice he’s outright lying to me. He most certainly wanted me to do something antagonistic against his competitor that he parades around as a friend, but there’s that old colloquial saying about keeping the enemy close.

Maybe it’s just boy-talk in the tech world. I’ve been a basement graduate for a few years and a fun coder on the side for little freelance gigs around town. I created some websites and fixed some coding issues in people’s personal devices, but I’ve never been at this level of work before.

Perhaps animosity is normal around here and having me mention otherwise would only outcast me from the group. I’ve never fit in anywhere in my life before, but I know I can fit in here.

It just means playing by the boss’ rules, that’s all.

I watch him leave and sink back into my warm, leather chair. My back typically hurts from working with my old wheelie chair at home, but this one is much nicer. Leaning back in my new office, I click around the mainframe for a bit, wondering first what could possibly be haunting a system this large. It would take a really skilled hacker to break through some of this coding, let alone someone who would need countless access permissions and passwords.

Meandering through the gates online, I replace an odd little cursor of code that doesn’t belong in the heart of the system. It’s not something I should bring to my boss until I know it’s technically bad, but the fact that it sticks out from the rest of the information here is concerning enough.

Even then, I can’t shake the feeling of those golden irises poking at my body, pricking me with little holes over and over again until I’m nothing but a hole-punched body with gaps of pressuring focus. The weight of Dimitri’s presence is heavy on my shoulders, warm on my cheeks, and painful in my chest.

Something’s not right with Ivica Tech, but until I replace out what is wrong here, I’ll keep my mouth shut and my head down. Besides, it’s just a hunch.

Without any solid proof that there’s something fishy here, then there’s no reason to bait my hook.