Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
At my desk, I’m drowning in a sea of emails and reports. My eyes are strained from staring at the computer screen for hours. It’s already late afternoon, but I guess it’s going to be the second day in a row that I’ll have to work overtime, and what I desperately need is more sleep.
Yesterday, after Misha held me in his arms for an hour or two, I had to push through the day exhausted. At least that meant that in the evening, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep around eight p.m., with no time to stress about sleeping alone or feeling scared.
But today, I’m still groggy and was quiet at lunch. I hope the guys know that all is good because it is.
I’m happy.
If it weren’t for the frustration of my project being gone and being relegated back to being just the Smart Home girl, life would be perfect.
I’m still debating whether to let the dream of the lensless AR go or to start over from scratch. If I start new, I might be late to the party, but now that I know what I’m doing, I could potentially add a new spin on things.
It could still be good.
Not groundbreaking, but good.
And good can be enough, right?
That thought brings my parents and August to mind. None of them have tried to contact me, not even Abigail. I’m still sure that going with no contact from my side was the best way to go, but it still stings a little that they don’t care. However, it’s only a reaffirmation of what I already know.
When I don’t play by their rules, I’m not worth anything to them.
And that’s fine.
I’m fine.
Even if I never talk to them again and remain stuck as the Smart Home girl here, I still have Misha, Grey, and Oliver, and they have me.
Life is good.
The afternoon monotony is suddenly shattered when the door to my office bursts open with a bang. The guys barrel in, their faces tense with concern and determination, scaring me so much that I jump out of my chair.
I barely have time to register what happens before I’m enveloped in a group hug, their arms wrapping around me tightly, almost squeezing the breath out of me.
“We’ll figure this out,” Grey says, words muffled against my hair.
“Don’t freak out,” Misha adds, squeezing me a bit tighter.
Oliver chimes in, his voice soft but steady, “At least we have a new clue.”
Their words are meant to be reassuring, but they only serve to heighten my concern.
“What are you even talking about?” I pull back from their embrace, and my brow furrows as I look at each of them in turn.
“She hasn’t heard yet,” Misha mutters, glancing at Grey.
“Hasn’t heard what?” I ask, pulse quickening.
In response, they simultaneously pull out their phones, holding them up for me to see. All three screens display the same headline.
Tech World in Uproar: Elysium Unveils Revolutionary AR Technology, Launch Date Coming Soon
My eyes widen as I realize what I’m looking at.
It’s my project.
Elysium has my project.
A smile spreads across my face, so wide it almost hurts.
“Amelia?” Oliver asks, concerned. But I can’t stop the giddiness bubbling up inside me.
“Fuck, she’s losing it,” Misha murmurs, earning an elbow in the ribs from Oliver. He winces but keeps his eyes on me.
“This is a good thing.” I laugh. Can’t they see it? “With Elysium having my work, we can get access, and I can prove it’s mine.”
The guys exchange glances, the skepticism clear in their eyes.
Grey looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “How?”
“Do you think you’re the only one concerned about the safety of your work?
” I can’t help but feel a bit smug. My heart pounds as I explain, my words tumbling out in a rush of enthusiasm.
“I embedded a signature pattern within the core computation.” I watch as understanding dawns on their faces, their skepticism melting away into something that looks a lot like pity.
“That’s good, Bug, but I don’t know if that’s going to help.
The person who stole the work wouldn’t just put it out or sell it to Elysium with your marker still in there,” Misha speaks up, his brow furrowed.
“They’re normally easy to erase if you know what you’re looking for, and I’m sure they did look for any copyright markers. ”
Do they think I’m a noob?
“It’s not a usual marker and not visible as such. It’s a Fibonacci sequence, and if you press ‘Ctrl-Shift-A-S,’ my copyright will appear on the screen,” I explain, hoping this hidden gem will be our ace in the hole.
They look at me, stunned, before Grey’s face lights up with pride. He lets out a triumphant laugh before pulling me in for a hard kiss. His stubble scrapes against my skin, but it’s a welcome sensation. I feel a swell of pride when he murmurs against my lips, “You’re a fucking genius.”
I must have done something right if Grey Donovan thinks I did good.
I pull back, looking into his eyes. “And that’s not the only thing that would prove it’s mine. We just need to find a way to access it, get it back, or show the CEO.” My mind is already mapping out the steps we need to take.
“We can’t just run to them if we have nothing in our hands.
We would sound implausible. Who knows who sold it to them with what story?
We don’t even know where they store it or who is working on it.
This isn’t something we can just do. The stakes are too high,” Oliver points out, seeming frustrated.
He’s right.
This isn’t going to be easy.
But giving up isn’t an option.
Without hesitation, Grey takes off his messenger bag, pulls out his laptop, and sits down on Hendricks’ desk. “On it,” he says, his fingers already flying over the keys.
His concentration is intense, brows knitted together as he starts to hack into the company’s system. I watch him work, a mixture of awe and anxiety churning in my stomach.
Should I really let him do this for me?
“I thought we agreed on no crimes,” Misha says, his expression tinged with concern that mirrors mine.
“I only promised not to hack into the government,” Grey retorts, not looking up from his screen.
I’m sorry, what?
“Why would you want to hack into the government?” I ask, stunned.
What the hell are they doing when I’m not around?
They exchange glances before Oliver explains, “We need to figure out where Hendricks is.” There’s a hint of hesitation in his words as if he’s not sure how I’ll react.
“Okay, I get that he was your primary suspect,” I say, and I really do, even though I don’t like it. “But if Hendricks is gone, it can’t be him.”
Please, don’t let it be him.
“Maybe he sold the program and took off with the money,” Misha suggests, shrugging.
I watch as Grey’s frustration mounts, his fingers flying over the keyboard with increasing intensity. After a while, he lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t find a hint of it.”
“We should get home and work from there,” Oliver says, his worry for Grey is obvious. Now that I’m paying closer attention, there are dark circles under Grey’s eyes.
Is he not feeling well? Why haven’t I noticed before?
God, I’m such a bad girlfriend.
“Or we’ll try again tomorrow,” Misha offers.
“Let’s do something chill tonight so Grey won’t get an ulcer.
” His eyes flick to me, silently asking for help.
I smile and nod, stepping up behind Grey.
My hands find his tense shoulders, and I start to massage them.
Almost immediately, I feel him relax under my touch.
Misha’s voice is soft as he tells me, “Grey’s been on it night and day, trying to figure out who took from you. ”
For me?
I lean in and push Grey’s hair out of the way to kiss his temple. “It’s fine,” I whisper in his ear. “It’s okay to take a day or two off. There isn’t even a release date yet. It’s not worth working yourself ragged over it.”
Grey turns in his chair to face me, his hands finding my hips and pulling me between his legs. “It is,” he insists, his eyes intense. “You’re worth everything. It’s your project of a lifetime. It will revolutionize everything. I’m so proud of you, and I won’t let anyone take that moment from you.”
He’s proud of me.
My heart swells at his words as I sit in his lap and kiss him softly. “Thank you,” I murmur against his lips. “But I won’t let the stress over my work, which is only work, let you burn out. You’re way more important than that project.”
He furrows his brow, looking at me skeptically. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “All of you are way more important than any work could ever be.”
He kisses me again, sighing as he pulls away. “I haven’t been out for a walk in a while now. How about we get some fresh air?”
“It’s raining,” Oliver points out, glancing out the window.
Grey pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I should probably move my body a little. I’m fucking stiff.”
I laugh, and he grabs my hips harder, making me squirm. “Not like that, you little minx.” He growls playfully, making me giggle.
“We could go to the gym,” Oliver suggests.
“I’d rather go swimming.”
I stiffen at Grey’s words, my eyes darting to Misha, who grins knowingly. “Oh, you won’t like what you’re gonna hear now,” Misha tells Grey with amusement.
“What?” Grey looks at me, obvious confusion evident on his face.
I take a deep breath, feeling a bit sheepish. “I… can’t swim.”
Grey’s eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear into his hairline. It’s a comical sight, and I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling even more.
“What the fuck do you mean you can’t swim?” he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You guys have an Olympic pool in your mansion.”
“Their mansion.” I shrug, feeling more than a little defensive.
“I was so occupied with lessons in piano and school and tennis and going to church, everybody just… forgot. And I didn’t want to have to learn another thing.
” I fidget with the hem of my shirt, avoiding eye contact.
“Besides, it’s not like I had much free time between all those activities and trying to please my parents. ”