Chapter 26 This dinner wasn't a friendly meeting of the tech minds-it was an ambush. If not for my long history with Sam, I would have taken Bea and walked right out the door the moment I realized what was happening. I should have from the start. Sam had barely acknowledged Bea's presence, skipping over her to reintroduce me to Drew, Minnie, and Don, the founders of Gravis Systems. Up until now, I'd forgotten we'd met at an industry event months ago. But as they talked, my initial impression came back. They were young and hungry, with an overabundance of funding and a dearth of talent and innovative ideas. That still stood. Things only went downhill from there. Sam went straight for the pitch. "You've probably heard about some of the things they're doing at Gravis. They're interested in a collaboration around the security suite we've been developing, and I thought we could have an informal chat over dinner. Low pressure." I flinched. Visibly. Sam's gaze shifted to Don on his left, as if looking for backup, and that felt like a gut punch on top of a gut punch. Since when did he look to veritable strangers for support? We leaned on each other. Always. Bea's hand slipped under the table and found my leg, squeezing with grounding firmness. I covered her hand with mine, running the tip of my index finger along hers. "We're not going to be doing that," I uttered through a tightly clenched jaw. This wasn't up for discussion. Not now. Not ever. The security suite was still in development, and the information was far too sensitive to be paraded in a public arena with no care for security. Sam knew this. He'd been part of the team that had written the architecture. He knew how critical it was to keep this project under wraps until it was thoroughly tested and ready to be put into use, especially given the nature of what it had been designed to protect. We weren't talking about a simple update or a UI tweak. This was the foundation of everything I'd built. My reputation, my work, a lifetime of sacrifice and obsessive, deliberate planning. And Sam had just handed it over like it was nothing. We had strict protocols for a reason. Everyone at Nox abided by the layers of clearance, internal firewalls, encrypted access, a need-to-know chain of knowledge that began and ended with me. That was how it had always been-the only way what we did made sense. It was not up to Sam to unilaterally decide when and with whom we discussed this. If we went public-which was very much undecided-it certainly wouldn't be with a trio of venture-backed newbie sniffing around for an easy shortcut to relevance. We didn't add anyone to the equation without a thorough vetting, no matter how much capital they raised. This wasn't a slip. It had been a choice. Bea reminded me she was next to me, her shoulder brushing mine. I narrowed in on our two points of contact, my hand over hers, tracing the line of her knuckles, the solid weight of her leaning into my arm. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself back from the edge. No matter how furious I was with Sam, we were in public, and I had an image to uphold. The last thing I needed was the Gravis team spreading around that things at Nox were less than stable. It was imperative we present a united front. "It's too early to talk about," I said, so evenly, I'd impressed myself. "And this isn't the time nor place." Sam chuckled lightly, the sound falsely casual. It might have fooled someone who didn't know him. But I did. That laugh was the same he'd used when Mary Rosedale had corrected his citation in our Tech Ethics and Policy class. Sam could play easygoing when it served him, but he hated being undermined. Nothing got under his skin like feeling exposed in front of an audience. "No need to get worked up, Tore. It's not like I shared any specs or code. This is just a conversation. No pressure. A vibe check." I turned my head slowly, letting the silence stretch. A vibe check? Since when did I have vibes? I was as anti-vibe as they came. Bea laughed. "That reminds me of a story I once heard. This woman's boyfriend had learned the term 'vibe check,' so he'd started using it to take their relationship's temperature. At first, she'd thought it was cute and funny, then he'd started saying it all the time, even when she'd asked him to stop. Her last straw had been after her mother's funeral. She'd been crying, a complete wreck, and he'd walked up to her, looked her directly in the eyes, and asked, 'Vibe check, babe?'" She shook her head. "'Vibe check' has been dead to me ever since I heard that." Drew wagged his finger at her from across the table. "I think I read that one on Reddit. Everyone said she was not the asshole." Minnie scoffed. "I hope it was unanimous." "Oh yeah. I'm pretty sure it was," Drew replied. A new discussion launched about other unhinged posts they'd read on Reddit, effectively cutting off the tension at the knees. Bea joined in effortlessly, keeping the mood light while never taking the pressure off my leg and shoulder. She was aware of me, even as she guided the conversation and charmed the Gravis trio. Sam pretended he wasn't seething, but I couldn't miss his balled fist and rippling jaw. He wasn't happy his friendly, casual dinner had been hijacked by my beautiful date, but I wouldn't be apologizing. If anyone did, it would be him. He should have been thankful Bea was here with me. If she hadn't been, tonight would have ended far differently. None of us lingered after the bill came, and that was for the best. By the end, I was thoroughly finished pretending to be interested in what anyone aside from Bea had to say. Bea wouldn't let me call a car to drive us home, but she allowed me to walk with her. We didn't talk about what had gone down with Sam. I wasn't sure she understood the implications of what he'd tried to do, only that I was furious with him. I stood behind her at her door while she unlocked it, and when she asked me if I wanted to come in, I didn't hesitate to accept. I should have gone home, but I wasn't ready to part from her. Would I ever be? I liked my alone time, but I could have that with her. Actually, that sounded more than enticing. A quiet room, a book, Bea by my side? Yes, I would enjoy that. I looked around Bea's living room, taking in her space. It was tidy in a near-fastidious way. The surfaces were bare except for a stack of books on her coffee table. She had colorful pillows on her couch arranged neatly in the corners and an afghan folded in a perfect rectangle. Above her couch was a black-and-white landscape photo of the Rockies, and there were a few other pieces of art scattered along the pale-gray walls. I didn't know exactly what I'd expected, but it wasn't this calm, peaceful setting. Bea was a burst of color and action, but her home was serene and restful. I could easily spend time here. A gray ball of fur barreled into the room from nowhere, toenails scrambling on the hardwood as he made a dismal attempt to stop himself from crashing into us. He ruffed and snorted, throwing his entire body weight into Bea's shins. Laughing, she stumbled into me, and I caught her by the elbow, keeping her upright as she teetered on her heels. "Hi, big boy," she said, leaning down to scratch his massive head. "We weren't gone that long." The second I stepped out from behind Bea, the dog turned his attention to me. His nose twitched and eyebrows wobbled as he looked me over, sniffing the air around me. Once satisfied, he sat with a thump and stared up at me expectantly. "I don't have anything for you." I opened my hands, showing him they were empty. His tail happily swept the ground. Bea took my hand to steady herself as she kicked off her shoes. "Just scratch his head and he'll love you forever. He's a simple guy." My fingers flexed. "I haven't been around many dogs." "I think you can handle it, Salvatore." She gave my hand a tug. "You protect all the computers in the state-" "That isn't actually what Nox does." She hmphed. "Like I said, you protect all the computers in the state, so I think you can handle my sweet dog. He doesn't bite, and he's very polite about not licking strangers." Sensing this was probably a deal-breaker, I reached out and gave Benjamin a perfunctory pat on the head. One and done. Except he leaned into it, and I had to admit, he wasn't unpleasant to touch. His short fur was almost velvety. "He's soft," I murmured. "Right?" Bea leaned into me the way her dog had. "I think he likes you too." Skeptical, I looked down at him. He peered back, and I almost swore he was smiling. I had seen him from afar and been fairly neutral, but up close, he was...cute. I saw the appeal. Then he licked my hand, and Bea giggled into my arm. "Uh-oh. He loves you. You're his now," she said. "Didn't you say he doesn't lick strangers?" "You're not a stranger. I've told him all about you. You're a friend." It was ridiculous, but I was immensely pleased she'd talked to her dog about me. It made me wonder who else she'd spoken to and what she'd said. Benjamin let out a huff and, without warning, flopped over on my feet. I turned to Bea. "He's malfunctioning." "This is how he bonds," she corrected. "And you started it. You petted him. That was your first mistake." Benjamin settled in, using my shoe as a pillow. "I wasn't aware I was making a long-term commitment." I stared down at him for a long beat then reluctantly rested a hand on his side. "I can't move if you fall asleep on me." He yawned and closed his eyes in response. Bea laughed. "Just accept that you belong to him." I raised my head, catching her gaze. "Do I belong to you as well?" She pursed her lips but couldn't hold back a little smile. "Well, we're kind of a package deal, so...yeah." My chest settled with a deep, solid certainty. "That's good. I intend to keep it that way." No matter what I had to do. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!