《Divine Celebrity》Chapter 33
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"Take care, and call me whenever you want," I said as I sent one last smirk her way, enjoying the way she blushed prettily.
However, as I walked the back office, I had to forget the sudden temptation her blush awakened. With everything going on, I had bigger priorities than possibly seducing a cute girl, if a touch too ambitious when it came to board games.
Yet, before I could reach the target computer, my phone buzzed. I wanted to ignore it, but a couple more buzzing indicated that it was more of an urgent issue, forcing me to pull my phone.
It was Megan calling.
I rejected the call. 'How can I help you?' I wrote even as I walked down, down the corridor toward the shared office that was rarely used. After all, just because Lauren allowed me to enter didn't mean that I was actually allowed to be here anymore.
She called again, but I rejected that again, not wanting to talk to her in the corridor.
'We need to talk, and it's urgent,' she said.
'I might for a quick minute. I just finished training,' I wrote back. It wasn't the perfect time to talk with her, but the time we spent together was enough to get a sense of her character.
She was clearly not used to being said no, and I was too busy to teach.
I barely stepped into the shared office when I received her call. I closed the door before I answered. "How are you, my dear girlfriend?" I said, not bothering to hide my mocking tone.
"Don't sass me," she answered, her voice sharp, yet that only made me smile wider. It was fun to tease her. "You'll come here for a couple of hours. I need your help," she asked.
"Really?" I said. "And you know I'm free for it and don't have some very important things to consider, how?"
A chuckle came from the background, female, but it was clearly not Megan. She was busy growling. "Are you busy?" she said, though it still managed to come out despite her effort to soften it down.
She was truly different without people to impress with her fake personality.
"Depends," I answered.
"Depends on what?" she said, her tone sharp.
"Why are you asking for two hours of my time, of course," I said, unable to keep my chuckle down. "I have time to repeat our little car adventure, but I don't have time to help you do your homework. Not unless you make it worth my while, of course."
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"Don't be ridiculous!" Megan gasped, though the chuckles in the background rose even more. "Just stop being an asshole and come here."
"I'm sorry, your ladyship," I answered even as I typed the password and the username to the shared computer. They were not mine, of course. They belonged to one of the supervisors, as I didn't intend to set up the illegal programs under my credentials.
It was not likely to be discovered, as IT security was simply horrible, but it was better safe than sorry.
"We need to have a date," Megan said as I logged into the computer.
I immediately lost interest. Technically, I needed Intent, and I needed it urgently, but I needed more than a boring date could create. Without a quarterback to humiliate, it wouldn't gather enough Intent to risk my chances of playing.
"I'm assuming the boring kind," I answered dismissively. "I don't have the time. Maybe tomorrow?"
My rejection made her gasp in anger, but I started typing without waiting for an answer, checking the item order, mapping just how many parties had been communicated. It was possible to change the orders for the museum, but that wouldn't help much, not if someone decided to track that orb.
The other museum's records would still show the delivery.
"Impossible. Tomorrow you're going to be even busier, and that's assuming you can even wake up. Coach Bill doesn't allow anyone that can't memorize the play book for the week to leave."
I sighed. "You're not making the argument you think you're making. It's just more reason for me to study before the meeting," I said, even as I continued checking the supervisor's emails and the other communication orders, trying to find which delivery company delivered the items that included the orb.
"Please," she said, though her sudden tone shift didn't surprise me. She was more than adept to get what she wanted, but I would certainly pay for that teasing at one point. "I'm not going to take more than an hour of your time. And the swimming pool is just a couple of minutes away from the stadium. I can pick you up."
"Swimming pool?" I said, stopping typing for a moment, the location suggesting it might not just be a boring date that she had in mind. After some thinking, I decided to accept it. The location was interesting enough to change my mind, and Megan owing me a favor for that was even more interesting. "Don't worry about picking me up. I already have another car. But what do you mean by saying the pool is just a couple of minutes of drive away. Which pool?"
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"The swimming team's pool, of course," Megan said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I didn't know it was open for public usage?"
"Don't worry, I'm not an idiot. I arranged everything," she said proudly.
"How shocking," I said drolly. "But I don't have my swimsuit with me. Should I assume you handled that as well, or should I hope for a fun skinny-dipping session."
"Don't be crass. I'll bring one for you with me."
"Oh, that's interesting," I said, my smirk widening. "And I'm guessing there will be a friend with you, taking our photos. Perhaps the one in the background, giggling."
"Oh, you're good," called another voice from the back.
"Shush," Megan said dismissively, no doubt targeting her friend before turning her attention to me. "Naturally," she said, though her voice was sharp, clearly not appreciating my haggling. "I'll be at the entrance in fifteen minutes, be ready." Then, before I could answer, she cut off the call unceremoniously.
Curious, I thought, as she was considerably tenser than I had expected.
So curious that I stopped my research for a moment to check the social media, only to find several posts and threads, about Megan and me, quite a few of them posted by the same cheerleader that had been frolicking with Kevin, saying that she was a frigid bitch incapable of any kind of intimacy.
There were also several insinuations about my body, a certain part in particular, suggesting that a little limp boy and a frigid bitch were the perfect combination.
"Fuck," I murmured even as I turned my attention back to the computer.
Normally, I wouldn't have exactly minded such rumors, secure enough with my equipment. Unfortunately, with everything I was facing, the impression of other people was more than critical.
And if there was one thing that would reduce the impressiveness of a man in the public eye, it was the gossip about a small or malfunctioning package.
Luckily, it seemed that my fake girlfriend was even more conscious about my reputation — even if that was to protect her own purposes. She caught the attack before it turned into a public gossip, and already reacting to counter that.
It didn't take a genius how could a pool could be used to counter those rumors.
Of course, none of that meant that I was going to rush like a little puppy, trying to stick to her arbitrary deadline. I still had important work to do in the museum, and even without that, I wasn't one of the guys who would rush for her needs just because she snapped her fingers.
I turned my full attention to the computer, doing my best to find the information I was looking for. Yet, cycled between different clunky windows of the inventory software to find the information I needed, and a melancholic sensation hit me. It hadn't been a good job, neither in terms of the quality of work or pay, but it was still the longest job I had ever held, and losing it was a weird feeling.
And for better or worse, the job allowed me to get in contact with the orb, throwing my life into a completely unknown situation.
Pity that I had to prioritize getting Traits over nostalgia, and not just because I had a nagging angel forcing me to do so. Things were getting dangerous, and I didn't want to be caught unprepared.
With a sigh, I moved between the windows, compiling all the necessary records, delivery timings, storage records, and even the additional notes.
I moved to checkout records, curious if anyone had recorded its disappearance. Which, luckily, this wasn't the case, but unfortunately, it still showed me as the last one to check it out.
The museum was lax, but not lax enough to miss that little detail. Luckily, the supervisor's credentials allowed me to quickly change that, and erase any information that had been even been in the museum.
From a technical perspective, that move should not have been allowed, but luckily for me, the program the museum was using was just that old and poorly written, lacking the necessary checks.
Even luckier, I managed to identify the museum that sourced the orb, and they had also managed the delivery internally, meaning that I only needed access to one system.
With a sigh, I did my best to rapidly compile several convincing emails, with convenient links that would download some convenient keyloggers to their computers, hoping that receiving that mail from another museum employee would be enough to trick them.
And, before leaving, I made sure to install a nifty little program that would give me remote access without raising any alert.
"Done," I murmured and stood up.
With that, I had nothing else to do in the museum, leaving me free to go and see what my fake girlfriend had been planning.
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