I manage to contain my scowl, but it’s touch-and-go there for a moment. “If you’re not going to jump down mythroat,sure.”
His expression goes from unsure to pained as he steps aside so I can pass. “Ideservedthat.”
I steel myself as I shut the doorbehindme.
“I need you to handle the interviews on Thursday.” Royce collapses back into his chair, and before his words sink in, I think I see a wince deepen the lines around his eyes. My anger flares, along with a thread ofconcern.
“And when am I supposed tofinish the damn code?You kept the specs from us for too long, and now you can’t even hire the help we might not have needed if you’dbeenhere?”
“Look, I know Ifuckedup—“
“Royce, you need to tell me what’s going on.” I jerk my head back towards the bullpen. “You’ve got a team of people out there who’d move virtual mountains for you—all because you gave them a chance. And—“ I can’t stop myself, but my voice fades to a whisper. “—you’vegotme.”
Royce slams his hand down on his desk before I finish speaking. Pens jump, and a stress ball topples onto the floor. Rather fitting. “I’m trying to fixthings!”
“You’re doing a piss poor job of it.” I take a step closer, but something in his expression stops me. His gaze hardens, and the reinforced steel wall between us gains another layer. Blinking quickly, I try to stop the burning tear thatthreatens.
“Jesus, Cam. I’msorry,okay?”
“No.” Through sheer force of will, I keep the tremor from my voice. “I’m exhausted. I’m working twelve hour days on this project. With Lucas overseeing the hardware, I’m stretched thin. I don’t need your attitude on top ofeverything.”
I turn to leave, fed up with this conversation and with Royce. But he rounds his desk and touches my arm. “Cam, I know I haven’t been the easiest person to work with lately. Running this company…I love what I do, but the pressure can be intense.” He frowns, the lines around his eyes deepening with the motion. “Diffusing bombs didn’t leave me this fucked at the end of the day. Juggling projects, paying the bills, hustling for new clients…everything I do is to protect this team. Everything. I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. It won’t happen again. I’ll get Abby to handle theinterviews.”
We haven’t been this close in ten years—he smells like the cloves from his cigarettes. His apology hangs in the space between us, and as I search his gaze, I wonder what, exactly, he’sapologizingfor.
Say something. Anything.Honest conversation isn’t our strong suit anymore, and I chicken out, giving his forearm a squeeze. “Get some rest, Royce. Cut the staff some slack. Maybe bring in doughnutstomorrow.
“We won’t let you down. This job? ZoomWare? We want Emerald City to succeed as much as you do. You just have to trust us a little more.” If I stay a minute longer, I’ll say something I regret, so I slip out of the office, and I think I hear him whisper, “I’lltry.”
7
West
With his headbowed so his black hair hangs over his eyes, the sullen kid across from me fidgets. Picking at his Mariner’s t-shirt, scratching an itch that can’t be there on his prosthetic forearm, and occasionally glancing over to the mats to watch the afternoon advanced class going through their moves, he’s obviously trying to play it cool in front ofhismom.
“How safe is it?” His mother leans forward and drops her voice. As if the kid can’t hear from afootaway.
“Very.” I pass her a handout. “All four instructors, including me, have been through extensive training with the country’s best rehabilitation specialists. Jack Maneli is based out of Seattle Children’s Hospital,andhe’s—“
“Manny?” The kid’s interest piqued, he shoves his swath of greasy hair away from hisbrowneyes.
I try to hide my chuckle. Jack “Manny” Maneli has a reputation for being the coolest physical therapist in Seattle, and his work with young amputees has put him on the map. “Yep. Manny trained me personally. Said I wasn’t in bad shape. Then he made me fight him.Ilost.”
The kid’s eyes widen. “Mom,please.”
“Will there be a doctoronsite?”
“Manny’s going to attend the first class, and after that, we’ll have one of his interns at every session. As part of the certification process, all of our instructors go through extensive CPR, injury assessment, and emergency response lessons that we repeat every fouryears.”
Uncertainty swims in the woman’s eyes, but when she glances down at her son, who now sits up straight with a grin spreading across lips I bet usually wear a permanent frown, she nods. “Okay. Where do wesignup?”
* * *
For the fifthtime in half an hour, I try to loosen my tie. The young man across the desk from me, who probably graduated college last year, enters all of my information into the bank’s computer. “Just a few more minutes, Mr.Sampson.”
Everything I’ve worked for comes down to a computer algorithm. Yes or no. A good candidate for a loan or a poor one. A business with potential or one that’ll be gone within the year. How can a computer answer those questions when Ican’t?
I see the faces of the eighteen kids waiting to start the new Horizon program. The hope in their parents’ eyes convinced me this is the right thing to do. Hell, I’ve got a dozen men and women from VetNet ready to sign up for classes—if I can afford the goddamninsurance.
