“That’s true. Wouldn’t want any injuries.” He claps me again on the back. “It was great to see you, son.” He turns and edges through the crowd like he’s got a bomb strapped to his chest.
I follow Tuck to our usual recliners and sink into the dark blue leather. It smells perfect: like lemon cleanser, Heidi’s home-cooked meals, and game nights.
“Work suck yesterday or something?” Tuck reads my tired sigh.
“You have no idea.”
Yeah, work was crazy. I made about fifty cold-calls to potential donors. Talking to people doesn’t drain me, though. If anything, putting my charm to the test is actually quite fun. No, my workday with Kate in our tiny office isn’t the reason I’m cracking my knuckles.
It’s the scavenger hunt event that came after.
I can’t stop replaying that lightning strike by the elevator, that brief illumination of Kate’s laugh and recklessly blown kiss. I watched her break out of her act only to fade away again once she rejoined what’s-his-nuts. Not going to lie, it hurt more than I thought it would.
“Work sucked for me, too,” Tuck says, his sullen tone at odds with his usual playfulness. I’ve never heard him complain about the bioenvironmental engineering company he works for.
“Why?”
“Got laid off.” He ignores my shock, hunching over his knees and inspecting his hands. “Well, my department got laid off. Sooo I’m probably gonna have to backpay you my portion of rent once I find a new job.”
I wave my hand. “I’ll cover your half. What happened?”
“A project for one of our clients wasn’t panning out, and it got too expensive. They cut the project. Once they realized they didn’t have enough work, they cut us too.”
“What was the project?”
Gears set in motion behind his hazel eyes. He gets the same look before embarking on one of his crazy outdoor adventures.
“In layman’s terms, it’s an evolved aftermarket intake manifold for vehicles. It increases airflow to the engine by thirty percent. If that got paired with the enhanced catalytic converter I designed, the vehicle could, in theory,” Tuck warns, as if I’m about to combust from anticipation, “scrub more exhaust in the atmosphere than from just the vehicle itself. By sucking more air through my advanced system, it could reduce overall emissions by twenty percent.”
A thrum kicks off in my own chest. It’s impossible to sit in close proximity to Tuck’s enthusiasm without side effects.
“That sounds cool, man.” I grin, but the reality of the situation tamps down the corners of my mouth. “But the project got shut down?”
“Yup.”
But Tuck suddenly doesn’t seem too perturbed.
“What’s the plan, Tuck?” I sigh. I swear I’ve repeated those four words more in my life than any friend should have to.
“I’ve got two options, my man. Either I admit defeat like a wuss or I step up and try to fund the project on my own. I have an investor already interested. Plus, the company withdrew the trademark when they cut the project. It’s a risk, but if I reach back out to the client with it finished…” Tuck’s got mountain peaks in his eyes.
“Cool,” I say, clapping his shoulder.
“Thanks.” Tuck grins, but it dims a fraction as he scans the room. “Sucks Julia didn’t make it this year. She’s with Dallas. Did you know they’re back together?”
I shrug. “So? That just means she’ll be single again next week. Julia’s smart. She’ll figure it out.”
Tuck’s expression lifts. “You’re probably right. She’d never listen to us anyway.”
“Hon! I didn’t see you come in!” Mom steps into my field of view, green eyes sparkling above a huge smile. She has one of those faces that transform when they’re happy. One moment, she’s contemplative with her deeply-creased laugh lines, then one twitch of her mouth and she’s brimming with mischief.
I skim my eyes over her, searching for any hint of disarray. Her dark jeans look like they’ve filled out some since I last saw her, and her Hawaiian shirt is crease-free. A healthy flush runs beneath her cheeks, and her eyes are bright and glossy.
My assessment snags on the man sidling up to Mom.
“Hey, champ. It’s good to see you.” Chaz, her boyfriend, is all dark, thinning hair with a layer of dormant muscle under his belly. I often wonder if he calls everyone “champ” so he doesn’t have to learn their name. Chaz shifts his gaze to survey the crowd as he takes a long pull of his drink. The green umbrella jutting out of it pokes him in the nose.
I stand and give Mom a hug, resting my head against hers. Her wavy black hair is fluffy and freshly styled.
