38. Leo
Chapter thirty-eight
Leo
The conference room was the quiet that made you aware of every breath you took.
Three people sat across from me.
One typing.
One watching me like she already knew my fate.
The middle one?... Waiting.
Judging.
I adjusted my laptop, which definitely didn’t need adjusting.
“Sorry,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Nerves.”
The guy in the middle leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “Take your time, Leo.”
Right.
Easy for him to say.
I clasped my hands together and rested them on the table.
They were surprisingly steady.
It didn’t make sense because inside… I was one wrong word away from completely spiraling.
Elicore Technologies.
The most well-known tech company in the state.
And me?
The fixer of pipes with big dreams.
I didn’t belong anywhere near this place.
I glanced down and swallowed hard...Then I thought of Cherise.
I imagined her sitting in front of me. Looking at me with a huge grin. Proud that for once I was choosing myself.
Like I was destined for more than cleaning shit out of toilets.
My shoulders squared.
I looked back up.
“Okay,” I said, exhaling. “So…the prompt was to develop an app that could encourage authentic connection in a way current platforms don’t.”
The woman gave a small nod. “Go ahead.”
I turned the laptop toward them and clicked into my demo.
A clean interface filled the screen.
“No filters,” I said. “No public likes. No comments. No followers.”
The guy on the right raised a brow. “What is the point?”
“Fair question.” I nodded once. “Because this app isn’t built for the public.”
I clicked again.
Photos appeared.
A messy kitchen.
A blurry sunset.
A shot of two people mid-laugh, not posed, not perfect.
“This is private, intimate,” I continued. “More like a digital scrapbook meets personal journal.”
I tapped the screen again.
A clip played–someone’s voice layered over a photo.
Soft. Real. Unpolished.
“Users can create collections—life chapters, relationships, milestones. Every entry is automatically timestamped and added to an album. They can add voice notes, or speak and have it converted into customizable text that is attached to the photo or video of your choosing.”
The woman tilted her head slightly. “What makes this different from saving photos on your phone and putting them in albums?”
I pretended to ponder her question just for a moment. I prepared well for this interview and have already practiced responses to questions I figured they would ask. Lucky for me...this was one of them.
I cleared my throat. “Saving a photo in an album…it’s just a memory…
memories fade. But this…” I tapped the screen lightly.
“This lets you remember how the moment felt. Not just the picture…but everything behind it. The thoughts you didn’t say out loud.
The things you wished you could go back and hold onto forever. ”
I hesitated.
“The stuff that actually mattered.”
I let that sit for a second.
“They scroll,” I added. “They perform. They curate everything for everyone else on the other platforms.”
I looked at them, making sure I still had them.
“They don’t actually sit in their lives anymore.”
Silence. Not awkward. Listening.
I could feel my heart thrumming in my chest, but I kept going.
“At some point…you realize the moments that matter most aren’t the ones you posted.”
Damn.
Stay focused.
“They’re the ones you lived,” I finished. “The ones you almost forgot about because you were too busy trying to make everything look perfect for everyone else.”
The room stayed quiet.
The man in the middle tapped his pen once against the table.
“What’s it called?” he asked.
I cleared my throat. “It’s called…Unfiltered.”
The word hung there.
The woman smiled slightly.
“And the goal?” she asked.
I sat up straighter, a little more grounded now.
“The goal is to give people a place where they don’t have to be anything other than who they are.”
Silence again.
The guy on the right nodded slowly.
The man in the middle glanced at the others, then back at me.
“Thank you, Leo,” he said. “We’ll be in touch.”
***
I stepped outside, the glass doors closing behind me.
I slung my laptop bag over my shoulder and shoved my hands into my pockets as I walked toward my car.
We’ll be in touch.
Was that good? Bad?
Did I completely bomb that?
Maybe they just needed time to think. It was normal not to get hired on the spot anyway… right? Maybe they had dozens of applicants to sort through.
Applicants who were probably way more qualified than me.
Maybe that was just their polite way of letting me down easy.
I unlocked my car, slid into the driver’s seat, and placed my laptop on the passenger side.
Then I just sat there.
Staring at nothing.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.
My thumb hovered over her name.
I wanted more than anything to call her. To tell her that no matter what happened… I did it.
That I walked into Elicore Technologies and didn’t shrink. That I wouldn’t have had the courage to do it if it weren’t for her.
I wanted to celebrate with her.
Or at least have the option to.
But I couldn’t.
I hadn’t called since we left Hawaii. Not unless you counted the quick thank you after she sent the money for Moose’s surgery, and she made no effort to reach out either.
Yep. Cherise stayed true to her word.
She sent the money over as soon as she got a new phone, and I scheduled Moose’s surgery immediately.
The first two weeks post-surgery were a freaking nightmare.
He screeched like a banshee when he had to stay in the crate to prevent any running or jumping while his knee healed. My neighbors really enjoyed that.
And the cone collar?
Getting that damn thing on him to keep him from licking his wound was like trying to wrestle a shirt onto a pig.
Two months in, and he was doing a lot better.
No more dreaded cone. No more crate. Just ice packs and rehab exercises.
I was slowly starting to see Moose turn back into his old self again.
Taking care of him had been a much-needed distraction.
It kept my mind busy.
Kept my mind off her.
Though, despite my best efforts, my thoughts always found their way back to Hawaii.
Back to the laughs we shared.
Holding her against me.
The whiff of coconut in her hair.
Hands down the happiest I had ever been.
I closed my eyes and let the memory wash over me.
I missed her so damn much.
Moose did, too.
The first night we got back from Hawaii, he kept peeking around me like he expected her to walk in behind me.
I just rubbed his head.
“Sorry, bud,” I muttered. “It’s just me.”
My chest ached from the memory.
Hawaii was also the last time I spoke to Derrick.
I wasn’t ready to have that conversation.
For two very big reasons.
One, I needed my face to heal from the last time he sucker-punched me.
And two… I had no idea where to even start.
How did you tell your brother you’d had a secret crush on his on-again, off-again ex for years?
How did you tell him you might actually love her?
I exhaled.
Maybe I wouldn’t even take it there.
What was the point?
It’s not like telling him would do either of us any good.
Cherise would never date a guy like me.
A week-long fling? Sure.
But a committed relationship? I scoffed.
I wasn’t anything like the guys she usually dated.
I was a good laugh.
A friend-with-benefits that was fun while it lasted.
Hawaii was fun.
And now it was over.
I might have been falling in love with her… but Cherise wasn’t in love with me.
And she never would be.
The sooner I accepted that, the better.
I turned the key in the ignition. The engine hummed to life.
Okay.
Today was a day for big things.
I worked up the courage to do that interview.
Now it was time to man up and do what I promised Cherise I would do.
My face had mostly healed.
I had practiced what I wanted to say.
And I even bought pepper spray in case things went south.
My hand tightened around the steering wheel as I backed out and pulled into traffic.
First stop—picking up Moose.
Then… I was heading to Derrick’s house.