Chapter 11
Eleven
It’s Friday again. My phone buzzes on the desk, the screen illuminating Anya’s notes on the Medusa’s Fury project file I should have put away ten minutes ago. I don’t even have to look to know who it is. My heart does a little jump anyway.
Theo
I’m back. What time is trivia again?
I relax into my chair, glancing at the time on the top of my phone screen. Derrick, Andy, Leon, Ted, Amaya, Jamie, and Ela are likely already gathering in the lobby waiting for me. I should head down. It’s a few minutes after five. But first, I text Theo back.
Kaori
Are you serious?
Theo
Yes. My plane arrived thirty minutes early.
Kaori
You’re not going.
I palm my forehead, a laugh bubbling up despite the fact that I can hear Derrick’s loud voice echoing from the elevator bank down the hall.
Theo
You’re disinviting me? Why? You’ve been not-so-subtly hinting I should come for the past week.
I bite my lip. He isn’t wrong. But the reality of him actually showing up is a different thing entirely.
The truth is, I’m turning into a total chicken.
I do want him there. But I need time to mentally prepare for it.
At least tonight I have a legitimate excuse to hide behind to buy more time. I do genuinely want him to rest.
Kaori
That was before you spent eight hours trapped on a plane. You’ll be a zombie by the time the first round starts. Go get some rest—especially since I’m assuming our site visit to Medusa’s Fury is still on for tomorrow.
Theo
I will, but you don’t have to worry about my jet lag. We won’t be meeting until four.
“Let’s get going, kiddo.” Leon sticks his head into my cubicle to motion me toward the lobby.
“I’m coming,” I say.
Kaori
Thanks. Appreciate it.
Theo
Are you positive you don’t want me to help defend the trivia crown?
Kaori
Yes. You won’t be helpful if you’re so tired you can’t think straight.
Theo
I can still be helpful if I’m tired. But in this case, I do have stuff to do before tomorrow.
Kaori
Like sleeping?
Theo
No comment.
I leave my desk and stand by the elevator. Theo continues to type.
Theo
I’ll meet you in the Excelsior car park just like last time.
Kaori
Okay. I’ll see you then.
True to his word, despite having been on a different continent just twenty-four hours earlier, Theo is waiting for me at four o’clock sharp, dressed in a white button-up shirt, cream linen suit, and loafers.
We take the company car to the project site. Unlike my first time, this visit goes smoothly. We walk the perimeter, confirm measurements, and cross-reference the site markers to confirm that where the primary track segments will be offloaded matches the plans.
The foreman hands over the updated logs. Theo scans them once, nods, and passes them to me to confirm, which I do. We’re finished by five.
As we pull back into the car park, I hesitate, then clear my throat. “Since you bought dinner last time, what if we did it again? But this time it’s on me.”
“You don’t need to. I can justify the expense.”
“I know, but I’d like to.”
Theo glances in my direction and starts the engine. “How about we compromise. I’ll let you pay, but I’ll choose where.”
“Deal.”
Ten minutes later, I realize I’ve made a rookie mistake. I should’ve known by that darn glint in his eyes that a compromise with Theo Riverton was never going to be in my favor.
We’re standing under the familiar glowing red-and-white sign of Burger Chalet. I glare at him, gesturing to the plastic menu board. “You did this on purpose.”
Theo’s mouth twitches. “You offered.”
We enter the fast-food chain and place our orders. To my relief, at least he doesn’t order the monstrosity otherwise known as the Alpine Tower. We each end up with Summit Burgers and a shared order of Avalanche Fries.
After grabbing a handful of napkins and a tray that’s seen better decades, we find a booth in the far corner that has a suspicious patch of duct tape.
I take a tentative bite of the fries. And to my immense surprise, they aren’t half-bad, though I won’t ever admit that to Theo. His ego is already large enough, and if he knew I actually liked the Summit Sauce, I’d never hear the end of it.
Between bites, our conversation drifts back to work. Our inner nerds emerge. We talk about some of the coasters on our bucket lists, designs that should’ve only worked on paper, and what our dream coasters would include.
“For me it’s high-speed tunnels and low-to-the-ground turns where you feel the grass brushing your feet,” I say.
“The maintenance on that would be a nightmare,” Theo says, stealing the last fry.
“It’s a dream. Not reality.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “What about you?”
“Simple. A non-linear launch with magnetic braking. It’d hold the riders at the apex for just a second too long—long enough for them to reconsider their life choices—before dropping them into a blind curve.”
That’s so Theo. It figures he’d want a coaster with a concept so complex that only the person who designed would realize it. Hidden in plain sight. “That’s not simple. A non-linear launch?”
“It can be. It just needs to be designed properly,” he counters.
“You’d probably be the only engineer who could design it.”
That earns me a quiet laugh. “You said it. Not me.”
After our meal, both full, we exit Burger Chalet and take a slow walk toward his motorcycle. I rack my brain for a way to extend our time together. Would it be weird if I suggested we do something like catch a movie? That’s something friends do, isn’t it? Or would it be too close to a date?
Theo must sense it too, because instead of heading straight toward the lot, he stops and glances sideways at me. “It’s still early.”
“That’s either a very good sign or a very bad one,” I say slowly.
His mouth curves, showing off a boyish grin. “Depends how you feel about after-dinner adventures.”
My breath catches. “Define adventure.”
“It involves water,” he says casually.
“The beach?”
“No.” He shakes his head, the neon light catching the sharp line of his jaw. “Too dark for that. But I’ll give you a hint—It involves an aquatic theme park.”
Oh, that sounds amazing. Only when I glance at my watch, my heart sinks. “It’s eight-twenty. Anything still open will be closed by the time we get there.”
“Let me worry about that.” His tone is self-assured and brimming with the kind of confidence that makes me believe he can make the impossible happen.
The sensible part of me knows I should go home. But the curious side of my brain is winning. “Fine,” I say at last, slipping my hands into my pockets, trying to sound nonchalant. “Lead the way.”
Next to his motorcycle, he hands me the spare helmet. It feels less foreign the more times I use it. When Theo swings his leg over the bike and glances back, I don’t hesitate. I climb on behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, settling against his back as if we’ve done this a hundred times.
“Hold on,” he says over his shoulder.
“I remember,” I murmur, tightening my grip as the engine roars to life.
We leave Burger Chalet behind and merge onto the expressway, heading south against a steady stream of red taillights.
The warm night air rushes over my skin, carrying the faint scent of orange blossoms and salt from somewhere near the coast. Streetlights stretch into golden streaks as hotels and strip malls blur into a ribbon of color.
The vibration of the bike hums through my palms and into my chest. I hold on tighter, my fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt.
Without his jacket, which he’s insisted I wear again, I feel the steady rise and fall of his breath and the shift of muscle as he leans into a turn.
For just a second, his body goes taut, as if he’s aware of exactly where my hands are, before he exhales and relaxes again.
My breath hitches, a sudden warmth blooming in my chest.
“You doing all right back there?”
“Never better,” I squeak.
About twenty minutes pass before Theo eases off the throttle and signals right. Up ahead, an enormous archway comes into view.
Neptune Bay Marine Park. It’s one of the area’s largest parks outside the heavy hitters like Universal and Disney.
I’ve seen the TV commercials and glossy brochures advertising it everywhere since I arrived in Orlando, and I’ve been dying to get down here.
Not just for the dolphins or the whale exhibits, but for their crown jewel—Trident’s Run.
It’s a coaster that has sat at the very top of my bucket list for years.
Theo pulls into a reserved space and cuts the engine. Rows of empty turnstiles stand like silent sentries, and the massive fountains have been dialed back to a low, rhythmic hum.
“We’re too late. They’re closed,” I say, slipping the helmet off.
“Not for us.” He swings off the bike and holds out a hand as I climb down. I hesitate, then take it.
A wizened security guard recognizes Theo instantly and waves us through without so much as glancing at our IDs. I’m not sure whether to be impressed or mildly horrified by the lack of actual security, but I let it slide as we step into the empty park.
The usual soundtrack of squealing children, splashing water, and looping announcements has been replaced by the soft hum of filtration pumps and the distant rush of waves from an unseen tank.
The air smells faintly of salt and seaweed.
Path lights reflect off glass enclosures, casting rippling patterns across the ground.
Some people might find it eerie, but I find it dreamy. Again—Private. Theme. Park. When would someone ever have the chance to have one of the world’s most popular amusement parks to themselves? Almost never, right? So why not soak it all in?
A tall man in a navy polo with a lanyard of keys jangling at his hip approaches us. “Evening, Mr. Riverton.”
“Evening, Marco.” Theo’s voice is relaxed in a way I’m not used to hearing. “This is Kaori, one of my newest junior engineers. Kaori, meet Marco, the park’s head of operations.”