CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Hi there, I'm Brix," said Frank, reaching his hand out to the woman.

"Hello," she smiled. She was pretty, but not overtly so. She had dark hair and big dark eyes, probably Creole or Cajun in heritage. A light coating of lip gloss covered perfectly formed lips. She wore no nail polish and very little jewelry. "I'm Everly."

"Everly. What a beautiful name," he smiled. He sat down at the table, hitting his knee on something.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "My chair gets in the way."

"Your chair?" he frowned.

"Yes. I don't ever put that I'm in a wheelchair. It tends to make people not show up. I know that feels deceptive, but I want a man to like me for me. Not my legs." He casually looked beneath the table and nodded.

"Of course. I mean, of course, a man would like you for you. It's not a big deal. Can I ask what happened?" He didn't really give a shit, but he was more or less stuck at this point.

"I was in a diving accident when I was sixteen. Like all stupid kids, I didn't test the depth of the water and dove headfirst into shallow water. Hit my head on a big fat rock and broke my neck. I have feeling above the waist, just nothing below."

"So, no sex?" he asked. She nearly spit out her water, then laughed. "Sorry. That was rude."

"I can have sex. And I do. I feel some. Orgasms are felt not just below the waist, but in your abdomen as well."

"Huh," he frowned.

"Listen, you don't have to stay. I can see that this bothers you, and you're uncomfortable."

"No. No, really, I want to stay. Your profile said that you run a software company," he said casually.

"That's right. My own baby. I developed a software that helps to ensure that bank accounts are safe from hackers." Frank froze, staring at the woman. He looked around the place, wondering if this was a set-up.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. In fact, your bank probably uses my software. I have it everywhere. Were you a victim of bank fraud?" she asked.

"Me? Yes. Yes, I was. It was terrible. That feeling of being violated and someone taking advantage of you. It felt like shit."

"See, that's why I developed it. I'm working on some other things now that should make credit cards more protected as well."

"That's amazing. Truly," he said, nodding at her. This woman was not someone he should fuck around with. If she had the knowledge of how to stop banking hacks, she might be able to backtrack and follow his trail.

"Do you want to order some food?" she asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. What would you like?"

"Anything is fine. I don't drink at all. No beer, wine, nothing. I'm strictly a bottled water or soda girl. I'm going to the ladies' room, but feel free to order anything. I'm not picky."

He gave her a smile and watched as she wheeled to the back of the restaurant. As soon as she was out of sight, he stood from the table, dropping a twenty-dollar bill on the table.

"You're leaving that girl?" asked a man at another table.

"What's it to you?" said Frank.

"I think it's shitty. That's what it's to me. You're being an asshole because she's in a wheelchair. I heard it all. How do you fucking live with yourself?"

"Mind your own fucking business," said Frank, walking toward the front door.

He couldn't leave the restaurant fast enough. She didn't drink. She might not be able to have sex, and he wasn't sure how he could approach her. He also knew that she would be able to implicate him in anything that happened to her accounts. He was getting the hell out of there.

Dialing the number for Brenda to see how she was doing; he was frustrated when she didn't pick up. He dialed it again.

"Brenda, pick up your damn phone."