“Yeah, we do, but it’s only a basic system because of privacy. We can’t have cameras running in the rooms when people are having piercings or being tattooed in places that need them to take off clothes,” Betty says.
“I’ll install a new system,” I tell them.
“Wait, what?” Betty says, confusion etched across her face.
“I co-own Sypher Security. I don’t know who installed your current system, but unless it was us, I’m confident we can do better,” I inform them.
“Wait…you own Sypher Security?” Cody asks, clearly confused.
“I co-own it, but yes.”
“Hang on, does anyone else know about this? Sypher is like a military level security company.”
“No one has ever asked me,” I advise him.
“You own a security company?” Doll asks quietly, looking over her shoulder at me.
“Weco-own a security company. Yes.”
“I did wonder how you could afford to buy all that land,” Cody says absently, shaking his head softly.
“So you probably don’t want a job as a security guard then?” Betty asks.
“I am happy to accept the position. As long as you understand that my main priority would be Octavia,” I tell Betty, quickly glancing at Cody to ensure he understands that while I’m more than okay making sure Betty and the studio are safe, my doll will always come first.
He nods in understanding, and I nod back.
“Her chair is next to mine in the front, so you can still be close to her. I doubt you’ll ever have to actually act as security, but you’ll be there just in case,” Betty tells me.
Nodding in agreement, I tighten my hold on my wife. “I’ll assess the security needs of the building and make sure you have the best system possible.”
“Awesome, just let me know how much it costs,” Betty says.
“Consider it a gift.”
Betty opens her mouth to speak, but Cody whispers something to her, too quietly for me to hear. Instead of arguing,Betty inhales sharply, then nods. “Okay. Thank you. That’d be great.”
“We should head down to tell my brothers,” I tell Doll, lifting her out of my lap and placing her on her feet in front of me.
“Oh, okay,” Octavia says, her eyes a little glazed.
“Congratulations,” Betty says with a wide smile, sounding genuine.
“I thought you believed Octavia was making a mistake?” I ask her bluntly.
“I never said she was making a mistake. I was just a little shocked. But I get it. You guys make sense. Actually, I think you’re perfect for each other,” she says.
Nodding in agreement, I take my wife’s hand and lead her across the house and toward the door. Once we’re outside, I lift her into the car and fasten her seat belt before climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.
“You own a security company?” she asks as we pull away from the Barnetts’ home and head toward Jumpers Row on the Williams property next door.
“Weco-own a security company.”
“Okay, I don’t own anything, but that’s really not the important part. Were you planning on telling me that you co-own what sounds like a pretty badass security company? When you said you’d quit your job, I thought that meant you were unemployed, not that you still had a business to run.” Her voice gets increasingly louder as she twists in her seat to face me.
“I didn’t think it was relevant,” I admit, unsure why this is making her angry.
“You didn’t think it was relevant,” she repeats back to me. “I thought you said you’d never been in the military?”
