A Code For Love Bal Khabra

A Code For Love Chapter 5 – Read Online

A Code For Love Read Online Chapter 5 – My second week at Cypher had topped the charts as my worst week yet.

When I first found Sylvia to talk about my app last week, she brushed it off. She made a weak excuse about a meeting and rushed out before I could stop her. Something was going on, but I couldn’t figure it out.

Sylvia had no reason to avoid me since she had made it clear my app was a large part of hiring me. It was one of the reasons I accepted this job in the first place. So today, a week after I let her avoid me, I was going to talk about it, even if I had to strap her down to her chair.

That’s how I found myself in her office, pitching my app. “This way, you benefit from a single workplace management system. Every communication, change, event, and contact is found in one software catered for your business,” I concluded, hearing my heart in my throat. Sylvia’s impassive expression revealed nothing. If she didn’t say something soon, I would start rambling—or begging.

“Well, that was…very informative,” she said slowly, looking through the papers I had given her. “You can start loading the software onto our servers this week. We will need all the data you have collected and the original version.” She smiled and then handed back my papers, signalling for me to leave her office.

Shocked flooded my features as I floated down the hall high on approval. When I relayed the news to Gabriel, he only supplied me with an uneasy look and excused himself as if nervous to be around me. I found talking to Sylvia in a hushed tone later that day but brushed off their frequent meetings. Mostly because I couldn’t eavesdrop well enough to hear what they were saying.

When it was finally the day I would put my app to use, I woke up late.

Rushing out of my building and onto the rain-soaked pavement, I spotted a single yellow taxi by the curb. I ran to the edge of the sidewalk without caring that the heavy rain left me drenched. The foresight to get an umbrella had escaped me, but I couldn’t care less if my hair got wet. When I reached the cab, a hand grabbed the door handle before I could.

I didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“Hey! This is my cab,” I said, loud enough to be heard over the bustling traffic.

Grey Sweats turned around, surprised to see me standing there. His brows knitted when his eyes landed on my soaked figure.

Wasting time squabbling with him was the last thing I needed right now. “This isn’t some J-Lo rom-com. Can you just let me have my cab?” I squinted up at him through the rain on my eyelashes.

He pulled back at my words. “J-Lo rom-com?” he repeated.

There was no way he didn’t know what those were. “Yeah, like a romant— forget it.” I shook my head. I would not let him think I imagined a romantic scenario between us. What I had imagined would be more of a murder mystery.

“I need this cab.” I pointed toward the door and tried to slip in, but he pulled the handle and opened it wide for himself. Then he paused, raising his hand to wave to the street. I watched him in confusion.

When I thought he was being a gentleman and getting himself another cab, he proceeded to get into mine. Before he sat, he took my hand, and our eyes met for a brief moment at the strange sensation of the touch. Then he wrapped my fingers around his umbrella and sat in the cab before I could even move.

A scoff escaped me at his thievery, and his eyes brightened at my dismay.

“Cabs don’t belong to anyone in New York. I’m guessing your new tour guide didn’t tell you that. Keep the umbrella,” he said, before closing the door and speeding away. In my cab.

I stood there at the curb, clutching his umbrella in my fist. “Assho—”

A loud honk cut me off, preventing me from tossing it in the trash. I guessed I should be grateful he saved me a trip to the store. I wasn’t sure if I had enough money to spend on luxuries like an umbrella. The cab driver nodded for me to come over, and I realized the taxi thief had waved him over before taking mine. I couldn’t decide whether it was a nice gesture. I didn’t bother making sense of the action and sat in the impatient driver’s car before anyone else had the chance.

I wrung out my wet hair on the way up in the elevator to Cypher and checked the time every few seconds. If this jerky elevator moved faster, I would be on time.

Finally exiting the deathtrap, my eyes fell to the caution tape outlining the office door. Stopping mid-way, I double-checked the floor number displayed on the wall. Then scrutinized the room number, squinting hard in case my eyes were playing tricks on me.

I approached the door that appeared decorated for Halloween and searched for a note. My best assumption was someone had hit a wall, and the asbestos was finally going to kill us. So, I held a hand over my nose as a precaution and reached under the tape to turn the knob.

It broke off.

If this was a plot for a scary movie, I would surely be dead in the next few minutes. With the rusty knob in my hand, I lightly kicked the door, forcing it to creak open. My jaw hit the landing, and my eyes were seconds from popping out of their sockets. I was stunned, standing frozen at the threshold, looking at what was supposed to be my place of work.

The office was empty.

Completely barren. Like someone picked up any useful piece of furniture and hightailed it out of there. Either we had been robbed, or I was living in a simulation. I scanned the hallway once more, confirming this was, in fact, the correct office.

Ducking under the tape, I toed my way through the entrance, bypassing the mess behind the front desk. Hundreds of papers and used office supplies littered the scratched floor. I stepped over the mess and around the corner to where my office was.

When I reached the splintering room, it was empty aside from a few file cabinets with missing drawers and dented as if they had been through rough moving. Someone had been hasty with their departure, not even bothering to take the file boxes lining the wall. The computer I would have downloaded my software on was snatched right off the wobbly desk, and my cheap chair lay broken on the floor.

I could not decide whether to scream or cry, but I also didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was happening. Perhaps, the company moved to a bigger and cleaner location, but I’m sure they would have sent out a memo to their employees. Or maybe this was a newbie initiation, and this was all an elaborate prank.

Running a nervous hand through my hair I rummaged through the papers on my desk, and found they were useless phone records dating back months. I walked out to where Sylvia’s office used to be, finding the state of it identical to mine. I hoped another employee was in the office, but from where I stood, I could tell I was the only one in the tiny space.

None of this made sense. Who would rob a place like this? We didn’t have cash or anything remotely valuable in this office. While trying to find some indication of where my workplace had vanished, there was a movement by the door. I froze when an older man in an NYPD jacket stood by the entrance. His forehead wrinkled when he spotted me.

“You lost, ma’am?” he asked, but all I could do was blink. Had someone reported this theft to the police? If they did, where were they? Where was

Sylvia?

“I don’t think so.”

The cop narrowed his eyes at my response, ducking below the tape to approach me. “This isn’t open to the public. We raided it this morning after an ongoing fraud investigation,” he informed me. I must have looked shaken because concern grew deep in his features.

“Fraud?” I repeated, harbouring the shriek that was clawing at my throat. “Yup, they had some scam business going on. Hired employees and

everything.” I felt a hollow in my stomach grow deeper, and let out a shaky breath. I examined the room again, my mind spinning. “You all right there? You’re looking pale.”

“Just hyperventilating,” I said through shallow puffs, and he seemed unsure of what to do next. “So, this was a scam? This—this right here was all a scam?” I asked, feeling lightheaded and almost doubling over. The man looked worried about my deteriorating health as he slowly nodded. “But I worked here, I… I moved my whole life here,” I told him, and before I could fall to my knees, his hands shot out to balance me with a hold on my shoulders.

“You worked here?” A puzzled look coloured his features as he allowed me to steady myself against the broken water cooler. He pulled out his notepad, scribbled on it, then gestured for me to continue.

“It had just been a week,” I informed, edging closer to having a breakdown.

“A week, and you didn’t know it was a scam?” he asked in disbelief. When I glared at him, he raised his hands in defence, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. What kind of company was it?”

“Technology.”

“Huh. I guess Catherine is getting wiser with time.” “Catherine?”

“The one who set this whole thing up. Catherine has been scamming the upper east side for decades. I’m not surprised she has evolved. Last time she opened a brokerage. Scammed lots of new real estate agents with those looks of hers.”

I gave him a strange look. “You mean Sylvia?”

“About this tall,”—he held up a hand showing her height—“curly brown hair, and walks like she owns the place?” he asked, and I nodded. “I guess that’s the name she’s going with now.” He shook his head, probably in pity for my idiocy. I had just been scammed in a city already eating me and my bank account alive.

Suddenly, it hit me that she had all my information. Everything about my work visa, my insurance, and my address. I willingly gave all my personal information to a thief and was going to hand over my software too.

“She has all my confidential information.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. We know her MO, and because we busted this early, it’ll be almost impossible to perform identity theft.”

Identity theft?” I sputtered. Not only had I wasted all my money and time, but I risked my entire livelihood for this job. I needed to sit down before I cracked my head against the water cooler.

“We’ll file a police report and keep you informed, but you don’t have to worry. Just lock your accounts and monitor any money in or out.”

My mind focused on one word: money. There wasn’t any money going into my account unless I got involved in the shady drug trafficking calls I’d been getting.

“I was supposed to get paid this week,” I croaked as realization dawned. With no paycheck, my bank account was looking emptier than this office. I was sure they would find moths in there at the bank.

“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m sure a young girl like you can land on her feet. You’ll find something. Just make sure it isn’t a scam this time,” he said, giving me the most worthless advice. Did he think I had knowingly walked

into a scam job to drain my bank account and give myself an ulcer in the process?

I wanted to shout at him, but this wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine. I had been the one who hastily accepted the offer without doing any research. According to him, I was young and could land on my feet. But what if there wasn’t any foundation to land on? I was falling, and it felt like a never-ending tunnel had opened below me. My parents would have a long lecture ready for this, that is if I ever told them.

The officer’s radio squawked to life, bringing me back to the present, standing in the deserted office that was supposed to be my key to independence. Instead, it had given me a key to homelessness.

“You need a ride somewhere? I can drop you home,” he offered with a sympathetic smile. I nodded and followed him out the door, casting one final look at the place that had single-handedly toppled my entire life on its head.

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