"Sounds like you've got it all mapped out," Ryan says. When he looks at me again, his expression softens. "Sorry to meet and run, but I've got plans so I need to get ready."
Asher grins. "Yeah, I bet you do. There are always asses to tap, am I right?"
Ryan's jaw tightens. "Seriously?"
Asher laughs. "I'm just busting your balls. Lighten up. And then go have a good date with today’s flavor."
3B looks like he might be about to go apoplectic. "Jesus Christ, Asher. Cool it."
Asher laughs. "Fine, fine. Sorry. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Sure." Ryan's eyes linger on me for half a second. "Nice to officially meet you, Julie."
"You too."
Asher leads me back toward the elevator, and I glance over my shoulder once. Ryan's still standing in his doorway, watching us. When our eyes meet, he looks away first.
"It's really wild that you live in Ryan's building," Asher says as we wait for the elevator. "Small world."
He pauses, then grins. "Timing is everything, you know? If I'd been five seconds slower hitting those brakes this morning, who knows what would've happened."
The elevator doors open. I step inside with him, but as the doors close, I catch one last glimpse of Ryan's apartment. Did I miss something?
He takes me to a Thai restaurant downtown. Small. Warm. Low lighting. Lemongrass and basil in the air. Fancy, but not pretentious, if that makes sense.
A waitress approaches with water glasses, and Asher barely glances at the menu before saying, "We'll have the pad thai, extra lime, and also some green curry, chicken, mild, extra coconut milk." He hands both menus back in one smooth motion. "And bring two Thai iced teas."
The waitress nods and disappears. I’m annoyed that he just took over like that.
"Not a fan of letting people look at the menu?" I ask stiffly.
"Trust me," he says, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. His eyes are so focused on mine that whatever I was going to say just evaporates. "You'll love it."
I pull my hand back and cross my arms. "Well, that'd be a good trick since I'm a vegetarian."
He falters, his mouth opening in surprise. "Well, shit. I'll get her back."
As he lifts his hand to call for the waitress, I break and let out a laugh. "Stop. I'm just messing with you, which you deserve. You're a heavy-handed orderer. First at Starbucks, then here. I, like most people, like to make my own decisions."
He's smart enough to look properly chastened. "Understood. I'm sorry."
I nod. At least he listens and doesn't lash out when he's corrected. That would've been a massive red flag.
"So," I say, deciding to move past it. "Cyber security. What does that actually mean day-to-day?"
He leans back, clearly relieved by the subject change. “I feel like I’ve spent half my career explaining to executives why their passwords are so weak that a kindergartener with basic skills could crack them.”
I laugh. "That can't be real."
"Maybe not half my life, but close." He grins. "Part of my job is building profiles. You'd be amazed what you can learn about someone from public records. Last month, there was a high-level hack of a CFO's computer. Turns out, he had his dog's name as his password. The dog's name was on his LinkedIn profile. He may as well have given the hackers a roadmap.”
"That's horrifying."
"That's job security." He takes a sip of water. "What about you? How'd you and Jamie end up with a bath and body store?"
"We started making stuff in our kitchen," I say. "Soaps, lotions, scrubs. Just for fun at first. Then neighbors wanted some. Followed by friends and then friends of friends. We were making enough money that it was obvious we were on tosomething. Eventually it felt stupid not to try making it a real thing."
"That's impressive."
