Chapter 6 #4
"Exactly. Besides, I have about fifty of them. Not even joking. I’m not buying anything new if these are still functional. Not like Darkwater has a dress code. Presentable and no holes are the only rules."
The breeze picked up, pulling a few strands of hair loose from her bun. She tucked them behind her ear without thinking, and he noticed the small silver studs in her earlobes catching the light. He looked away before she could catch him staring.
* * *
They ate lunch at a casual place overlooking the water, the kind of restaurant where nobody lingered too long and nobody asked questions.
The interior was cool and dim after the brightness outside, with ceiling fans turning lazily overhead.
The vinyl booth cushion gave slightly under Reece's weight as he slid in.
They sat side by side, not across from each other, and he was acutely aware of how close she was.
Shoulders almost but not quite touching.
The menu was limited, but the food, when it arrived, was better than he’d expected. Hot and savory, with the zip of vinegar from coleslaw and the smoky taste of char from grilled fish.
Maggie turned toward him halfway through her meal, her knee bumping his under the table. She didn't pull away, and neither did he. "So, tell me about your family."
He didn't hesitate.
"My mom's name is Faith," he said, the words coming easy. "She's so strong, and she’s been through a lot. She shows her love through … I guess you’d say action.”
“How’s that?” she asked, still looking up at him.
“She cooks things she hates because the people she loves don't. She’ll sit through a movie that us boys want to watch instead of asking to watch what she wants. Normal things that I once took for granted. I guess that’s her love language."
Maggie smiled, warmth in her expression, and he felt it settle over him like sunlight. "That sounds familiar. I think all good moms do that, and you’re right; it is a love language. Service."
"Probably. My dad, Jason, adopted me when he and Mom got married.
I was young." Reece paused, surprised by how easy it was to say.
"He's the reason I lift and take care of my health. He had a bad injury to his back and started lifting to strengthen the muscles supporting his spine. He’s a fantastic man and a great dad.
He believes in structure and discipline.
But most of all, he believes in showing up for family. "
"That matters to you," Maggie said, and it wasn't a question. Her voice was gentle, with understanding.
"It should matter to everyone."
She didn't push. Just listened, her attention steady and complete. The ice in her water glass clinked softly as she lifted it. He hadn't talked about this with anyone in a long time, and he hadn't expected it to feel this natural. The morning was, in his opinion, perfect. He could talk to Maggie like he’d known her forever. The ease in her company relaxed the constant guard he carried about his life and his family, and that was refreshing—she was refreshing and real. And that was important to him. Important enough that he shared more with her than he’d ever shared with any of the women he’d dated.
* * *
They sat on a low seawall after lunch, shoes dangling over the edge, watching boats drift by.
The concrete was warm beneath them, sun-heated and rough through the fabric of his shorts.
The silence between them was comfortable, not empty, and Reece found himself relaxing into it.
Water slapped gently against the wall below, rhythmic and soothing.
The air smelled clean here, salt and sun without the overlay of food or exhaust.
"I didn't want this month off," Maggie said suddenly.
"Mandatory, right?"
She nodded, her fingers picking at a rough patch on the seawall. "One month on. One month off. A new policy. They insisted. I argued. A lot."
"And yet here you are."
"And yet here I am. I didn’t want to lose my job, so I caved."
Reece glanced at her, noticing the tension in her jaw, the way her shoulders held themselves just a fraction too tight. He shrugged. "Take it from me, downtime has a way of exposing things people would rather not see."
She frowned slightly, turning to look at him. The sunlight caught in her eyes, turning them lighter at the edges, and he felt the impact of that gaze. "I don’t care what I see or what they see. Unless they see what I’ve been looking at …You think that's why this happened?"
"I think whatever you were working on started something," he said carefully. "And I think the attention you got here wasn't accidental."
She exhaled slowly, her breath carrying the faint scent of the mint gum she'd been chewing. "I can't talk about my work."
"I know," Reece said. "NDA."
“And a security clearance that I can’t prove you have.”
“I do have a clearance, but I understand the concern.”
She shot him a look, searching for mockery and finding none, and he kept his expression neutral and honest. She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's not sarcasm, is it?"
He shook his head and made a cross over his heart. "No."
A small smile touched her lips, relief flickering across her face before settling into something warmer. He felt an answering warmth in his own chest, something that had nothing to do with the hot Florida sun.
* * *
They walked again, slower this time, the sun higher now, heat settling in like a weight on their shoulders.
Sweat prickled at the back of Reece's neck, his shirt stuck to his spine.
The boardwalk was busier now, voices overlapping, children shrieking with laughter, someone's radio playing reggae at low volume.
"I can't tell you specifics," Maggie said, her voice low enough that he had to lean slightly closer to hear. "It's proprietary information. I signed the—"
"What's happening isn't covered under the NDA," Reece said, stopping her gently.
He turned to face her, close enough now to see the flecks of dark blue in her gray eyes, to catch the faint floral scent of whatever soap she used.
His pulse kicked up a notch. "What's happening is because you found something.
Something wrong in a system or a program. Am I correct?"
She held his gaze for a long moment, and he watched the struggle play out across her face.
The need to trust warring with the need to follow the instructions that mandated her employment.
He could feel the heat radiating off the pavement beneath them, the weight of the humid air pressing down, but all of it faded into background noise as he waited.
"Yes. Something’s been added."
The single sentence landed heavily between them, and Reece felt something shift. Trust, freely given. It mattered more than he wanted to admit.
"Can you explain it in terms that won't violate the NDA?"
She hesitated, her hands flexing at her sides, and he waited. Then she nodded.
"Someone built in access," she said, her voice steady now, clinical. "Entry and exit points. Hidden ones."
"Hidden how?"
"They look like nothing. A hiccup. A time distortion. A fraction of a second where data pauses and resumes."
Reece absorbed that, feeling the implications settle cold in his gut despite the Florida heat. His training kicked in, running scenarios, threat assessments. "What can they do with the information in this program if they access it?"
She turned to look at him fully, all the warmth gone from her expression, replaced by something steady and serious. The breeze picked up again, pressing her t-shirt against her frame, pulling at the loose strands of her hair.
"It could change the world," she said.
Reece didn't doubt it. He could hear it in her voice, see it in the set of her shoulders, feel it in the air between them that had suddenly grown heavier with the weight of what she'd just shared.
His chest tightened, not with fear exactly, but with the sharp clarity of purpose he hadn't felt since leaving his team.
And in that moment, he knew two things with absolute certainty.
Maggie Brooks was in far deeper than she realized.
And he wasn't going anywhere.