“A French torte,” Emily corrected for at least the third time. “Not a simple birthday cake, which anyone can make from a box. As if.”
“So, you’re saying it’s cake with a superiority complex,” he replied, obviously teasing.
Emily didn’t appreciate his humor and looked deeply offended.
Rhys and Gaby spoke quietly with Michael and Greta beneath the string lights, laughter drifting in scattered bursts across the patio.
This was familiar, and comfortable. Feelings he almost remembered how to enjoy. He should have been relaxed. But he couldn’t quite get there. Not with Julia out of sight.
Callan’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, frowned, and muttered, “What now?” as he stepped a few paces away to make a call.
No one paid it much attention. Until he swore. Not loud but sharp, and very unlike him.
Dev’s head turned. “Problems?”
Callan dragged a hand through his hair, already moving toward them. “Security says the system just went offline.”
Leland was on his feet before he finished. His pulse stopped cold. “Offline how?”
“Whole grid,” Callan said. “Could be a crash. Might just need a reboot, but—”
“Alert the perimeter guards,” Dev said, setting his beer down as he rose.
Leland’s gaze had already shifted toward the river. The dock lights were out. “Is the power down, too?”
“They didn’t mention that,” Callan replied.
“We should bring Cari and Julia in.”
Dev was already moving. “I’ll come with you.”
Leland glanced at him. “I thought you fixed those glitches?”
He grunted. “Evidently not.”
They’d barely cleared the patio when they heard a splash. Too big for a fish. They shared a look.
Next came a gasp and more splashing.
They sprinted. Chairs scraped behind them, boots pounding on stone as the others surged to their feet and followed.
Both men hit the dock at full speed. Dev lunged for the nearest boat and slammed the deck spotlight on, flooding the dock and surrounding water with harsh light. Cari was in the water. Fighting the current that pulled at her.
Dev didn’t hesitate. He dove in, reaching her in a few strokes and towing her to the dock.
Leland scanned the water. “Julia!” he called.
No answer. No movement in the ink-dark water.
Others arrived behind, some searching the bank.
Two men dropped down, reaching for Cari as Dev got her within range. They hauled her up, coughing, water streaming off her as Dev climbed up after her.
Someone pushed a towel into her hands. Another was wrapped around her shoulders.
She slumped against Dev, still gasping. She drawled, hoarse and slightly uneven, “Time for more swimming lessons.”
He huffed once, more reflex than humor.
