The last thing I see is Callum's face—a perfect study in dignified horror—before the doors shut completely.
In the privacy of the descending elevator, I finally let the laughter I've been holding burst free.
The laughter fades as quickly as it came when my phone buzzes with a text from my sister:"Mom's kitchen pipe burst.I've called emergency plumber.We might need to pitch in to cover the cost :(”
I type back "On it" without hesitation, already calculating which bill payment I can delay to cover this new expense.The momentary lightness vanishes, replaced by the comfortable weight of responsibility.
This, at least, is familiar territory.
Unlike tonight, where once again, I’d almost let myself get caught up in the Abernathy family.
I've seen that movie before.I know how it ends.
And even if Callum isn't Richard—even if that brief moment of connection felt different—it doesn't matter.
It can’t.
Because some things you learn the hard way only once.And letting myself soften around another men is a lesson I refuse to learn a third time.
Either way, I’ll be ready for tomorrow’s meeting.
No matter how good Callum Abernathy’s…tatties might taste.
6
DIGITAL DETECTIVE WORK
CALLUM
At nine the next morning, Seattle's typical July drizzle has transformed into a proper downpour, water sluicing down my office windows in sheets.
The gray light makes the room feel like we're underwater—appropriate, given I'm drowning in hashtag reports and viral metrics.
"Tell me again how many sonnets were written about my eyes?"I ask, scrolling through Alana's morning summary.
Karina leans over from her desk, pointing to a particularly alarming statistic.“Twenty-one published on various poetry platforms, but the trending favorite is 'Verdant Depths,' which compares your gaze to, and I'm quoting directly, 'a Scottish loch where maidens have drowned since time immemorial.'"
"Romantic."
"If you like your compliments with a side of manslaughter."
We've been at it since dawn, combing through every angle of the viral posts.
Right now, only one work objective is on my mind…
To find the culprit before the MacTavish board meeting in five weeks.
If I can prove this was targeted corporate sabotage rather than an internal leak, the acquisition proceeds without a hitch.
I glance at Karina, who's wearing the same focused expression she had at dinner last night.
In the unforgiving fluorescent light, I can see the shadows under her eyes, carefully concealed but visible when she tilts her head just so.
She's been here since before I arrived, coffee already made, screens already lit.
She catches me looking and raises an eyebrow."Problem?"
"Did you sleep?"
