Free Santa's Pet by Rachelle Ayala Page A

Monkey-See. Its main feature is to allow shoppers to be notified whenever their friends buy something online, so they can also place an order with a single click.
    Samantha Reed, my cousin, is the one who broke the build when she checked in the permissions module with the wrong encryption type. At the moment, none of the friends are able to give permission for their shopping scrapbook to be followed, and Marketing is going crazy since this feature is being tested at Mississippi Online, Shopahol’s largest customer.
    “The quicker we fix and rebuild the system, the faster we can all go home,” I say, eyeing the engineers. “No one leaves until automation tests have passed. Downtime in the middle of the Christmas shopping season is unacceptable, and you all should have integrated your code before checking it in.”
    This is a speech I’ve given many times before. Usually, my team simply nods and turns to their work. But tonight, they stare at me, their eyes shifting from one to another. Samantha opens and closes her mouth as if she wants to say something. The others fidget, their knees popping or tapping their fingers.
    “Okay, what’s up? Spit it out. We don’t have all night.”
    They look at each other, as if nominating a spokesperson, and finally, Samantha speaks out. “Are you sure Monkey-See is our first priority?”
    “Of course it is,” I reply. “Mrs. Jewell herself called and said the build was broken. She said the Mississippi CEO called her to complain.”
    “Oh, then you must not have read your email,” Samantha says, twirling her dark brown hair. “There’s a new marketing executive and she says Monkey-See might violate privacy and has to be opted in for each purchase.”
    “This might not be so easy if each and every purchase has to be opted in and checked.” My brain spins faster.
    “I think you better read your email or talk to Mrs. Jewell,” Samantha says. “Monkey-See is on hold. I mean, I’ll fix the code, but there’s rumors that TrophyShots is coming up with an app sharing platform. They’re already ahead of us with their browser add-on games and in-app purchases.”
    “I know about TrophyShots. They’re a bunch of crooks.” I seethe under my breath. “Get this thing fixed and we can all go home.”
    “Sure, cousin.” Samantha swivels her chair around. “Except the new Shopahol marketing VP came from TrophyShots.”
    “I knew that,” I lie and turn away from the bullpen.
    Why does nobody tell me these things?
    I wander to my office and unlock the door. I know I’m supposed to stay in the bullpen and monitor or supervise, but such overtly aggressive tactics would only make the engineers nervous and resentful. Lacy is right, calling everyone to work in the middle of a Saturday evening is punitive. But then, if they weren’t all together, the fix would take longer as each person would have to wait for an email or text from their teammate between each step, which would increase the turnaround time.
    Yawning, I wake up my laptop and check my email. There is a new VP of Marketing coming in, but Samantha has misinterpreted the email. Monkey-See is on hold until we can solve the security problems. There’s a report of a hacker exposing the sex-toy purchases of an actress to those beyond her social circles, and Mississippi has shut down the feature until a new encryption scheme is approved. This definitely is a shit storm in the making. I wonder what they’re saying on social media?
    My face turns up the heat when I search on the actress’s name, Amy Suzuki. Crap. People are calling her names and making fun of her. This is so unfair. Just because she bought a sex toy is no reason for people to call her a slut. I can see how this Monkey-See feature might be a bad. Wasn’t it Brandon’s idea? I bet Lacy suggested it. She’s the one into sharing all her personal details online.
    With everything going on, I haven’t had a chance to check out Ben Powers. He’s in more trouble