34. Adam

34

ADAM

I ’m not sure what to make of Anna turning up at my apartment. If I’m honest, it’s wrecked me a little. The first time I met her, I felt she was lonely and needed a friend—and despite her curling around me in bed last night, I think I’m now firmly cast in that role with her. I’m only too aware that I’ve agreed to it, again , but the idea of being friend-zoned now … Two weeks ago, I thought we were heading to a different place, and the loss of what might have been is like a yawning cavern in my chest. I hung on so long with Celine and missed so many clues because she seemed like my dream, and I couldn’t bring myself to give it up. Is this just another hopeless dream?

Ugh. Can I not have a relationship with a woman where I don’t become so attached? I keep coming back to the question of why Anna would want something more with me . People are funny about this kind of thing, imagining that, despite some huge mismatch in status, some amazing person will look their way. She’s famous. A multimillionaire tennis player. She’s going to end up with another celebrity, some gorgeous guy, because that’s how this works. My business is just about washing its face now, but I still sit in a back office designing electronic boards with magnifying glasses on my head and wearing old jeans and a sweater when it’s cold .

Anna disappeared early for her practice this morning, and I persuaded her to leave Pepper with me. As I head into work with the world’s cutest Papillon at my side, I’m having perhaps the best commute I’ve ever had. Everyone stops to talk to me, well, to talk to Pepper actually, not because they recognize her from TikTok, but because she’s just that delightful. I take loads of videos on the way and end up posting one of a girl cooing over Pepper after getting her permission to share it. I tag Pepper’s account and put a comment on it:

I’ve got a new coworker, and I’m hoping that this one will work harder than all the slackers I’ve got in the office.

When I arrive, Susie greets me with a big smile. Well, no actually, she greets Pepper with a big smile and fusses over her and then goes off to find a dog treat.

“Don’t give her those! I’m training her to do things for them.”

“Like what?”

I take the bag of treats from her hand, and Pepper sits on her little butt and gazes up at me, ears cocked, wagging her tail.

“Roll over,” I say, moving my hand to the side.

She lies down then collapses sideways on the floor without quite performing the required roll.

“Yeah, we haven’t quite mastered that one yet.” Still, I hold out her reward.

“That was awesome, though. Can we video you doing some of that with her later?” Susie says. “Speaking of which, that was an excellent post this morning, boss. Look at you rocking the influencer lifestyle.”

I shake my head at her.

“I particularly like the comment about the slackers!” Keith shouts from his desk in the corner.

“Get back to work, you layabout!” I shout back, and Susie giggles.

“They reposted it.”

“Anna’s marketing team?”

“Yeah. Everyone loves it.”

I hold up my hand. “Don’t tell me. ”

The very idea that people are invested … But once I’m in my office and Pepper is happily occupied on a dog bed that Susie has produced from somewhere, I can’t resist a peek.

Oh, Jesus! the comments.

She needs to put a ring on that guy!

I don’t know who’s cuter, him or Pepper!

Adam Miller, I have a dog and I will marry you.

They’ve even created a hashtag for us: #Adanna .

“Susie! Do Anna and I have a hashtag?”

She snorts and appears in my doorway. “I knew you’d look at those messages. You’ve had the Adanna hashtag for ages.”

“Oh, fuck.”

She grins. “Figures are looking really good this month by the way. All the little kits are selling like hotcakes.”

“Yeah,” Sean shouts from his corner. “We can’t keep up with the orders!”

“Slacker!” I shout out, to laughter. “Now that’s something I never thought I’d hear in this business. ‘We can’t keep up with the orders.’”

Sean bounces into my office. “Want to see the new designs?” he says.

Susie steps forward and lays a set of drawings out across my desk. I gape at the pair of them. “What are these?”

“Susie came up with the idea we could turn some of the electronic kits into cartoon characters, so she drew some cartoons for the existing kits …” Sean shuffles the images to show me the dog ones and the cat we’ve just launched. “She also came up with a whole bunch of other characters, and Keith and I are seeing whether we can make them into kits.”

When I examine the pictures, they’re really clever. She’s drawn components but distorted and bent them so they look like cute animals. Wow.

“I’ll have you know we’re a serious electronics business,” I say, winking at Susie.

“Not anymore,” Susie says with a cackle.

Sean rolls his eyes. “All marketing people are maniacs.”

“I like these a lot,” I say, shuffling the papers. “Great job, guys. The drawings are amazing, Susie.”

She straightens up and smiles at me. “Thanks, boss.”

I message Anna a couple of times but there’s no response, so I assume she’s still on court and head to her apartment building at 3 p.m. to take Pepper home. The doorman is the same guy who was on the night Maroz smashed the desk in, so I ask him about the repairs and whether everything is all right while he fusses over Pepper. He nods and tells me that Anna paid for the damage. Somehow, I’m not surprised she’s had to fork out for it.

“Are you here to see Mila?” he asks.

Mila? Mila’s here? I tilt my head at him. “I’m bringing Pepper back,” I say.

“I’ll call up,” he adds.

I look down at the floor and take a big breath. The doorman chats to Mila on the phone for a bit and then waves me up.

When I reach Anna’s apartment, Mila is standing by the elevator, and I give her a small smile which she returns with a grimace.

“Hi Mila, I’m Adam,” I say, holding out my hand, which she takes. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Same. I’m here to look after Pepper,” she says.

“Oh, okay.” That’s odd. Why didn’t Anna text me to let me know that Mila would be here?

I bend down to let Pepper off the leash, and she races into the apartment and rushes around sniffing everything as Mila shakes her head. Then Pepper barrels back toward us, racing to Mila and jumping up, tail rotating like a propeller, and she pushes her off.

“Oh! That dog,” she grumbles.

I bend down and click my fingers, and Pepper bounces over to me and I give her a rubdown.

Mila’s lips are twisted in an amused smirk. “You can always tell a person by how they respond to dogs. That’s how you know I am not a nice person. I don’t care about the dog, but you, Adam Miller, you clearly do care about the dog.”

I instantly like Mila: She’s self-deprecating and direct.

“Thanks for dropping her off,” she says.

“I’m just off to meet Anna at the training center,” I say.

She makes a face and shakes her head.

“What? Why are you shaking your head like that?”

“Anna’s not there.”

I straighten up. “What? We arranged to meet there later this afternoon. Where is she?”

She shakes her head again.

“What’s with the head shake? You’re not going to tell me?” That whole conversation last night … “Well, I’ll just wait here until she gets back.”

“She won’t be back tonight. That’s why I am here for Pepper.”

“What? Where the hell is she?” My stomach drops through the floor.

She shrugs.

“Look, it’s pointless you not telling me. I have a friend who can hack into anywhere, so we could work it out. But it would save us both a lot of time if you’d just tell me.”

She sighs. “Hang on,” she says, and disappears into the kitchen returning with her phone in her hand. Her fingers fly over the screen as she mutters to herself in Russian, and it isn’t nearly as hot as when Anna does it. Am I bad for wishing Fabian was here so he could translate.

She grunts. “Anna says she’ll message you later.”

Message me later? And where the hell is she? Is this why Anna didn’t respond to my messages? Goddammit, Anna. Perhaps I should try a different tack. “How about a cup of coffee?” I say, still rubbing Pepper who’s now wedged between my legs, body vibrating as she wags her tail.

Mila narrows her eyes at me and walks toward the kitchen. The sound of the coffee maker grinding beans starts up, so I follow her, Pepper trotting at my heels.

“You’re a tennis player, too, aren’t you?” I say, and she nods.

Then she grins. “Anna and I are big rivals.” She shrugs. “But we have known each other a long time. We are with one another at all the tournaments, so we are friends, too.”

“Are you based in Manhattan?”

“No. I got here from Spain four weeks ago. Anna and I train together when we can, although we are both too competitive. I like the US. It is more tolerant than most places.”

“You trained through the academy system in Russia like Anna, didn’t you?”

Her face closes off. How much has Anna said to her about what Fabian has found out? Would she expect Anna to have talked to me about the academies? She must know Anna and I are friends and maybe more from all the media coverage. Perhaps Fabian’s strategy of a bit of manipulation would help here.

I shake my head. “Still can’t believe that happens,” I say.

Her eyes narrow. “What happens?”

“Konstantin. The sponsors?”

Her hands ball up at her sides. “Anna told you about that?” She sounds astonished. Angry. But it’s also a confirmation of a sort.

But I’m not a liar, and I don’t want to lie to Mila. “Where has Anna gone, Mila?” I say more insistently.

She chews her lip as she stares at me. Then she goes to the fridge and takes out the milk.

“Mila …”

“Russia,” she says.

And my stomach takes off in panic. Shit. Shit. Fabian explicitly asked her not to do that. Fuck, Anna, what are you doing?

“For any particular reason?” I say through clenched teeth.

“Konstantin asked her to coach at a tennis tournament.” She licks her lips. “He’s supported us for a long time. We both owe him.”

They both owe him? Is she mad? He’s an extremely dangerous man. She turns and starts another cup of coffee at the machine .

I will myself to calm down. “Is this tournament like all the other competitions the academy organizes?” I say, and even to me my voice sounds strained.

But now she just looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“I thought it was an opportunity for sponsors to be more ‘involved’ with those they are sponsoring?” I make air quotes around the word.

She rounds on me furiously. “They are proper contests!”

“I’m sure they are.”

She huffs out a long breath.

“I guess you’re sworn to secrecy,” I say, turning the spoon for my coffee over in my hand, and she scowls at me.

“Why the hell did Anna go to Russia? She’s putting herself in real danger,” I say.

“You are the one who is putting her in danger! The academy takes care of the people it gets to the top. They are not going to harm someone like Anna who brings them a lot of glory. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“Yes, I do, and they can do all sorts of things to Anna, Mila. Some visible and some less obvious. An accident? A sudden injury? Rape? ” A hot sick feeling washes through me.

She leans forward, right into my face. “You are here, talking about this. Do you not think they know about you, Adam Miller? That this apartment could be bugged?”

And oh shit! I never thought of that. She’s right, I am an idiot. Of course they’ll be keeping tabs on their academy players. I pick up my phone and text Fabian.

Have you left yet?

Just heading out the door.

I’m at Anna’s apartment. Her tennis pal Mila is here. She says Anna’s gone to Russia.

There’s no response for about a minute, then:

Jesus Christ! I fucking told her not to go there!

Can you sweep her apartment?

You think it’s bugged?

No idea. Do you know how to do that?

Child’s play. On my way.

Mila’s mouth is set in a grim line. “I don’t like you, Adam Miller. You and your stupid hacker friend will put us all in danger. You think you are smarter than the people in Russia? You are children.”

She leaves the kitchen, disappearing down the long hallway toward the bedrooms. I think I’m revising my earlier opinion of liking her. And one of us is a real expert in this kind of thing, and it’s not me. I bury my head in my hands.

Fabian turns up thirty minutes later, and the doorman lets him up.

He pulls a notebook and pen out of a big bag, followed by various pieces of equipment, including his laptop, and starts a piece of software that scans all the devices connected to the router and Wi-Fi signals. He writes something on the pad and gestures to me to read it:

After I’ve done this scan, we’re going to sweep for different radio frequencies. See if anything else is here trying to communicate out. We’ll need to turn off everything that we think has wireless capability.

I nod, and he puts on some plastic gloves and hands me a pair and I start looking for wireless devices, working my way through the open-plan space into the living room .

Mila comes out at some point, makes herself another cup of coffee, and watches us both. I don’t introduce her to Fabian. How much can I really trust her?

After about an hour, Fabian writes on the paper:

Why is Mila here?

I take the pen:

To look after Pepper, I think.

Can we trust her? She could be the bug. Or her phone. What made you think the apartment might be bugged?

She did.

Fabian frowns, then walks into the bedroom she disappeared into without knocking.

I hear her say, “Hey! What are you doing in here?” and then, “Give that back!” Fabian reappears with a phone in his hand, and Mila is right behind him. She tries to grab it from him, but he bats her off and pulls a laptop out of his bag, plugging her mobile into it. He loads a program that starts to run through what’s on it.

Mila has stopped trying to fight him and is watching the screen, too. Would she do that if she was doing something nefarious?

Several red lines appear as the software churns through the phone, and Fabian grunts.

“What’s this?” I ask, gesturing at the alerts, but he shakes his head.

Don’t talk until we know they can’t hear us.

I nod, and he starts writing again:

You have some additional bits of code stored on your device. I’m not sure what it does: It could be benign or something more sinister .

He turns the pad toward Mila so she can see. She purses her lips, not saying anything.

The program has taken a copy of what it’s found, and he scrolls down through it for a few minutes as I examine it over his shoulder. The code is peppered with Russian words in Cyrillic, with keywords in English.

Looks like some kind of tracking software to me.

How can he tell? But he’s probably examined a lot of tracking programs. Mila’s face goes red. Then she blows out a long breath.

Fabian writes on the pad:

I can fix it. Did you know it was there?

She shakes her head, then takes the pen from him.

How do I know I can trust you?

Fabian laughs.

You don’t. But I’ve got to be better than the other side, who are the people that sneaked this onto your phone. But depending on what it’s doing, they might realize something’s up if I stop it working.

She purses her lips again, then Fabian writes:

Any idea how it got on there?

She shakes her head. He makes a face and gestures to me.

We spend the next hour sweeping the apartment. Eventually, Fabian writes:

If they like tracking phones, perhaps they’ve done something to Anna’s too, so they don’t need anything in the apartment.

“Can we talk now?” I say.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing here. I’m quite surprised. Perhaps Anna already had it checked. ”

“That would make sense.”

Mila is sitting on the couch. Fabian has put her phone in the bathroom at the other end of the hallway so, if the phone is listening, it won’t hear what we say. Maybe Mila was trying to distract us with her suggestion of bugs. Frustration burns down my spine.

“Do you want to tell us why you suggested there might be bugs, and what’s on your phone?” I say to her.

“Not particularly. You could be anyone. You, too,” she says, waving her hand toward Fabian.

“Fine,” I say.

“You want a coffee?” he says to me.

“Sure.” I follow him into the kitchen.

Fabian writes on the notepad that’s still on the countertop:

We should search Anna’s computer while we’re here.

I nod. I take Fabian through to the study Anna showed me that first fateful day when I was supposed to stay with her, and he sits down at the computer and sets up his laptop. All this second-guessing and trying to work out what’s going on is making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It reminds me so much of the Celine fiasco, and something I can’t quite grasp flashes across my mind and is gone before I even know what it is. A familiar yawning dread grips my chest: All the endless unanswered questions, the looking for a solution or some clue to the truth. I never would have said I’d become addicted to the truth, but now I am.

Mila appears in the doorway.

“What are you up to?”

“A search. Why? What are you doing?” Fabian asks.

“You’re searching her computer? Going through all her private stuff?” She jerks her chin at me. “And you said the other side was worse.” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t think I won’t tell her about this.”

“Be my guest,” I growl at her. “But when you tell her everything we’re doing, feel free to mention the bug on your phone and just be sure you’re not putting her in more danger yourself.”