Ryan's laptop dinged, and two faces popped into view on the screen. At least he wasn’t the only one.
He adjusted his laptop and pressed mute as Tom welcomed them. The rest of his team was in-person, and the camera showed them sitting around the conference table. His boss Marc who’d been asking the entire neighborhood for numbers through his bluetooth earlier gave a nod to the camera. Chris immediately sent him a private chat.
On location?
Ryan sent him a middle finger emoji, then tried not to grin and give himself away as a smile crept onto Chris’s face on camera. They’d both worked for Apex for the past two years, and he played hockey. It hadn’t taken more than that for them to become buds. And start giving each other shit during meetings.
Tom started, “We need to make sure the load distribution is balanced. We can't afford any more delays, especially with the subcontractors ready to roll."
Ryan nodded along. Load distribution. Structural integrity. Cost overruns. He unmuted his mic. "I’ll be running a few more simulations to see if there's a way to optimize the beam placement."
Marc nodded. Ryan had sent him the cost analysis and initial load calculations. It was already on his list to dial in.
Ryan muted himself again as the others chimed in with their updates. He noted the tasks for his team and tried to knock off a few graphs Chris needed for a different project.
His phone buzzed on the bench, and his heart jumped, thinking it may have been Amaya. Ryan glanced down. It was a message from Brett outside of their group chat, and he realized school had started over fifteen minutes ago. He didn’t make a habit of checking messages during meetings, but his curiosity got the better of him.
Brett:
Have you gotten a final invoice from Carpenter’s?
Ryan frowned.Had he gotten an invoice?He opened up his inbox on his laptop, only to realize the call had gone quiet. Marc stared into the camera expectantly.Shit.
“Sorry, it stalled out there for a second. Could you repeat the question?”
Marc nodded. “I was asking if you thought the revised calculations would change our timeline.”
Ryan nodded. “I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know if anything comes up. I should have them done by the end of the day.”
The conversation moved on to material costs and supply chain issues. When the meeting ended, Ryan felt oddly . . . not annoyed. Sitting outside in the shade and listening to birds chirp probably had something to do with it.
He hadn’t found an invoice from Carpenter’s Ice Centre, which wasn’t overly concerning. He did have written confirmation that they were booked, and the camps weren’t starting for another couple of weeks. He could give them a call and make sure the bill hadn’t gotten lost in the ether of the internet.
He closed his laptop and opened the message from his mother-in-law.
It’s a good day today. Could you bring Amaya by for a visit?
Ryan read the message three times, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He should say yes. It had been two weeks since they’d gone over after school. But he knew what that would mean for Amaya, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to deal with the fallout. He slipped the phone back in his pocket.
It felt wrong walking back into Aelin’s house, but she had technically given him permission to be there. Ryan set his laptopon the bench in the entryway, took off his shoes, and found his way to the washroom. He relieved himself and washed his hands, then padded across the hardwood floor to the kitchen and slowly opened the cupboard next to the sink. The doors were a sleek, polished wood with a hint of rustic charm, fitting perfectly with the rest of the house’s clean lines and natural materials.
He paid attention to things like that.
He tried not to snoop, but liked that her dishes were neatly arranged. Nothing fancy, just simple white bowls and plates. He pulled out a glass and filled it at the fridge dispenser. He took a long drink and noticed a pad of sticky notes on the counter on his left.
He could leave a note. Thank her for the water and the WiFi. Ryan set his glass in the sink, then found a pen in a jar next to the paper. He took off the lid and paused, his heart suddenly picking up speed.
It was a thank-you note, it didn’t need to be impressive. But then he remembered what he’d said to her on the porch, and a flush crept up his neck. He’d been an ass. She’d been a bit of a brat, too, but he’d definitely started it.
His mouth went dry as he wondered whether that scene could’ve gone differently had he not been stuck in his head about the meeting.
A pang of guilt hit his stomach.
He was still married. He shouldn’t be having thoughts like that, and yet they seemed to be entering his head with increased frequency.
Ryan ignored the pressure in his chest and started to write.
Thanks for the WiFi. I hear RyansADouchebag is a contender for the current network settings.
