The Roommate, Kiersten Modglin [best books for 20 year olds .txt] 📗
- Author: Kiersten Modglin
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“Of course.” Remedied meaning we’d just lost a client. From the look on Stewart’s face, it must’ve been a big one. “What happened?”
“We just found out we had a major hack in our network last night.”
It took me a moment to process what he’d said. “We were hacked?”
“We don’t know what information the hackers gained access to before the system shut down. The IT department is looking into it. There’s a good chance nothing was accessed, or maybe only a few nonconfidential things, but we should prepare ourselves for the worst, just in case.”
“What would the worst be, Stewart?”
“Well, our clients’ personal information may have been accessed. Home addresses, phone numbers, personal emails, legal names, banking information… We just really don’t know.”
My chest heaved with a panicked breath. “I don’t understand. How did this even happen? We’ve never had anything like this happen before, have we?”
“No, never,” he said adamantly, his heavy jowls quaking as he spoke. “It was all supposed to be very secure. From what I’m being told, the hacker was intelligent and determined to be able to break through the security we had in place. Oliver’s a mess over it.”
“Could it have been someone who works here? Or maybe a former client or someone we’ve turned down?”
“They’re looking into all of that. I don’t want anyone to get into a tizzy just yet. We should know more before we go home.” He tsked. “I’m going to have to fire the entire IT department after this fiasco.”
I rubbed my dry lips together, trying to remain calm. “Well, just keep me updated, will you? I don’t want my clients hearing about this from anyone but me.”
“No, of course not. Watch your email. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything. Oh, and can you talk to your assistant and make sure he hasn’t clicked on any strange links or visited unapproved websites? When we get to the bottom of this, there will be serious consequences for whoever is responsible.” He groaned, rubbing his wrinkled forehead nervously. “That’s why we put this information in the training. If people would listen around here…” He trailed off.
“I’ll check with Gordon, but he’s really good about that stuff. I can’t see that he would’ve clicked anything he wasn’t sure about. Gen Z-ers get that stuff. It’s like ingrained in them.”
He sighed, seeming weary. “Yes, well, check with him if you will anyway, and then wait for me to find something out before we take any further steps. Did you get the notification to change your passwords this morning?”
“Yeah, I did,” I said, realization setting in. “I thought it was early to be doing that. It seems like we just changed last month. I guess it makes sense now.”
“Yes, well…we wanted to be sure we’d covered our bases. You should change the passwords on any apps or accounts from your phone too, just to be safe. Anyway, I’ve got to go break the news to the rest of the team. I’ll email you when I know more.”
I nodded, turning back to my computer as he exited my office with just one more thing to worry about on top of my ever-growing pile. If any of my clients’ information was obtained in the hack, there was a good chance I would lose them. And, if I lost enough, there was a good chance I’d lose my job. Without a job, I’d be unable to provide for my family or fix my marriage. It would take years to build up a strong client base at a new agency, supposing I could even find an open position. Without my income and with no savings to speak of, we’d lose the house within months. Addy and Rory would be forced to move in with Vivienne, and I’d have lost them for good.
After all, I’d staked our entire lives on this career. If I let Addy down by losing it, too, what reason would I find to keep her with me when she already had one foot out the door?
If I lost my job, I’d lose everything. Even if it wasn’t my fault.
I cursed under my breath. Losing things I had no control of seemed to be a pattern lately.
When I got home that evening, Elias was perched on the countertop with his legs crossed in front of him, scrolling on his phone with one hand while the other was shoved inside a white plastic sack. He lifted a piece of candy from the bag, a Swedish fish from the looks of it, and popped it into his mouth. I shut the door, though he barely looked up as I walked across the room.
“Hey,” he called when I reached my door.
“Hey,” I said, looking back at him.
“How was your day?”
“One headache after the other. How about yours?” I asked with a dry laugh.
“Did you not see me sitting here when you came in?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“I thought you would’ve said hello at least,” he said.
I furrowed my brow, shocked by his confrontational tone. “I didn’t know if you were doing something for work. I didn’t want to bother you.” He reached into the sack, pulling a family-sized bag of Twizzlers out and onto his lap, and then taking one from the bag and biting the end off aggressively.
He stared at me for a long time, too long, and narrowed his gaze. Then, he let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “I’m just teasing you. Do you want a Twizzler? I bought two bags.”
I shook my head, both because I had no desire for the twisted, strawberry candy and because I was perpetually perplexed by him. “No, thanks.”
“Not a candy guy? I should’ve guessed. You probably don’t remember the last time you even ate sweets.”
I cocked my head to the side.
“I just mean because you’re in such good shape.”
“Oh,” I said with an overexaggerated nod. “Yeah, thanks. You’re right, I’m not really a sweets kind of guy.”
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