Chapter 14
Five stars, would crash again
Alex
I spotted Finn through the glass doors, standing near the creative floor’s main workspace with his phone in his hand.
He looked relaxed, shoulders loose, taking in the space around him with his default observance.
But the way he shifted his weight caught my attention, a barely perceptible favoring of his right side.
His left leg was starting to bother him.
I pulled out my phone and fired off a quick text to Tabitha.
Me: lunch in conference 2 in 10.
Me: nothing with strong smells, avoid anything citrusy or too spicy. Finn has TBI.
Me: migraines triggered by sensory overload.
Tabitha: Sure thing, boss. I ordered from Nosh. Soft lighting already set up in Conf 2. Oliver’s been pacing.
Of course Oliver was pacing. The Titan research had him rattled, though he was doing his best to hide it. Adding Finn to the mix would either help distract him or make him more anxious about keeping up appearances.
I swiped my keycard and entered the space.
The morning had gone better than I could have hoped.
Casey’s easy acceptance, the team’s natural curiosity without invasive questions, even Jordan’s awkwardness hadn’t seemed to faze him.
But I could see the accumulated weight of new faces, unfamiliar spaces, and constant social navigation starting to affect him in small ways I doubted he’d noticed yet.
The way his hand had moved to massage his left temple while texting. The hazy and slightly unfocused look on his face. The fact that he seemed to have chosen to explore alone rather than meet more people.
My brain registered all of it. The same pattern recognition that helped me track potential project challenges and team morale was now focused entirely on monitoring Finn’s condition.
“Ready for lunch?” I approached him near the windows.
He looked up, and I caught the brief moment where his eyes took an extra beat to focus on me. “More than ready. This team is impressive, by the way. The Sherlock demo was mind-blowing.”
“We’ve really built something next level,” I studied his face, noting the faint lines of fatigue around his eyes that hadn’t been there this morning. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” the automatic response came too quickly, followed by a slight grimace when he recognized his own deflection. “Actually, starting to feel the morning. Not too much, just... aware of it.”
The honesty didn’t surprise me coming from him. Most people would have insisted they were fine until they were actively collapsing, including me. Finn’s straightforward assessment of his own limitations was a gift.
“We’re doing lunch downstairs,” I fell into step beside him as we headed toward the stairwell. “Quieter than the main break area, and Tabitha’s already handled the food situation.”
“Tabitha?” He slipped his hand over mine. An innocent gesture for show, but it sent shivers up my spine anyway.
“My assistant. More like my chief operating officer, really. You’ll like her,” I held the stairwell door open. “She’s probably going to ask about your intentions toward me, though.”
“Should I be worried about her approval too?”
“Definitely. Tabitha’s approval carries more weight than Dom’s. She has to work with me every day.”
Finn’s quiet chuckle echoed in the stairwell, but I noticed him gripping the railing more firmly than what seemed normal. By the time we reached the seventh floor, there was a slight hitch in his stride.
The conference room door was already open, window shades drawn, beckoning us out of the bright light of the common area. Tabitha had lowered the overhead fixtures until they created soft, even lighting that wouldn’t assault tired eyes, and she’d positioned the food at the far end of the table.
Oliver stood near one of the external facing windows, water in hand, looking every bit as stressed as I’d expected. His reading glasses were hooked in his shirt pocket, and his usually perfect posture had sagged as if he’d been carrying an invisible burden all morning.
“Oliver,” I gently guided Finn into the room, “I’d like you to meet Finn. Finn, this is Oliver, my business partner and the person who taught me everything I know about running a creative agency.”
Oliver straightened, summoning a smile as he extended his hand. “Finn. Welcome to Catalyst.”
“Thank you for having me,” Finn’s handshake was firm but brief. “You and Alex have built something remarkable here.”
“Thank you,” Oliver smiled. “Though Alex does most of the heavy lifting these days.”
The self-deprecation in his voice made my chest tight. Oliver had been carrying his own guilt about wanting to retire, as if his desire to spend more time with Ginny somehow betrayed the company we’d built together.
“And this,” I continued, nodding toward the end of the table, “is Tabitha, who keeps me functional and the company running.”
Tabitha looked up from her arrangement of containers, taking in Finn with the same assessing gaze she used to evaluate potential vendors or difficult clients.
She was twenty-eight, sharp as a blade, with intuitive understanding of human behavior that made her top of her class while studying behavioral therapy before quitting to work for me full time.
“So you’re Finn,” her smile was both welcoming and evaluative. “I have to say, it’s nice to see Alex finally show up for a meal.”
My cheeks burned slightly. “Tabitha.”
“What? It’s true. Usually I have to physically bring food to your desk or you’d try to subsist entirely on iced coffee and rage.” She turned back to Finn with an approving eye. “The fact that you’re here eating actual food suggests he’s a good influence.”
“Copy that,” Finn settled into one of the chairs carefully. “I’ll make sure to keep her fed.”
“I like him already,” Tabitha announced, shooting me a look that clearly said “finally, someone who gets it.”
Watching Finn integrate naturally into the ecosystem Tabitha and I had built felt like watching puzzle pieces slide into place.
Oliver took the chair across from Finn, studying him. “Alex mentioned you’re former Navy?”
“Pilot,” Finn confirmed, reaching for his water glass. I noticed the slight tremor. “Until recently.”
“Tough transition,” Oliver replied, and I appreciated that he didn’t push for details. “I imagine civilian life feels pretty different.”
“Still figuring that out,” Finn’s smile held an edge of self-deprecation. “Though mornings like this help. Seeing Alex in her element, meeting your team. It’s impressive.”
“It is,” Oliver’s expression softened to reveal genuine emotion. “Though the future’s feeling a bit uncertain lately.”
The weight of this morning’s research settled back over the room like a heavy blanket. I caught Tabitha’s slight frown as she noticed Oliver’s tension, the way he kept checking his phone like he was expecting bad news.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” I said firmly, reaching for a container of chicken pasta salad. “We’ve weathered uncertainty before.”
But even as I said it, my attention split between the crisis that loomed over my company and the condition of the man sitting beside me.
The conversation settled into easier territory as we ate, with Oliver asking Finn about Navy life and Tabitha making dry observations about the creative floor’s latest drama. Finn navigated the social dynamics with his usual charm, and the knot in my shoulders began to ease.
Until his fork trembled against the side of his plate.
Subtle. A few seconds passed before he set it down and reached for water instead. But I caught the delay before he answered Oliver’s question about carrier landings, the way his eyes didn’t track smoothly when Tabitha gestured toward the windows.
Across the table, Tabitha’s gaze flicked to me with a question I answered with the slightest nod.
“So, the Sherlock integration,” Oliver was saying. “Casey mentioned you were impressed with the tactical applications?”
Finn blinked. Processing. “Yes. The strategic framework is sophisticated. More nuanced than I expected.”
Each word came out carefully measured, like he was concentrating harder than the conversation required. Two fingers pressed against his left brow. Pressure building.
“The military consultation piece was interesting,” Oliver continued, clearly enjoying having someone who appreciated the technical aspects. “Jordan worked with some defense contractors to build the frameworks. Always curious about real-world applications versus theoretical models.”
“Jordan.” The pause stretched a beat too long. “Right. He seems dedicated to the...”
Tabitha stood, moving toward the wall-mounted display. “Oliver, didn’t you mention wanting to show Finn the concept art from the Norisarto project? The environmental design might interest someone with his background.”
Smooth redirection, drawing attention away from Finn, giving him space to collect himself. I caught his grateful glance, though he probably didn’t understand what she’d done.
But I did. Tabitha had recognized his cognitive overload the same way she did for me during intense meetings or stressful days.
“Actually,” I stood, moving behind Finn’s chair, “we should probably head back soon. I know you wanted to see more of the development side.”
My hand settled on his shoulder. Heat radiated through the muscle; his system was working overtime.
“I’d like that,” Finn pushed back from the table with deliberate movements. When he stood, the favoring of his right side was unmistakable.
Tabitha cleared containers nonchalantly, but her eyes tracked Finn’s movement patterns.
“Finn,” her voice was carefully casual, “I stuck some extra water bottles in the small room across from Alex’s office if you need them later. Huddle 3. It’s the quietest spot on the floor.”
Huddle 3. Our sensory refuge. Tabitha was laying groundwork.
“Thanks,” Finn responded at length, hands gripping the back of a chair.
Oliver stepped forward, extending his hand. “Great meeting you, Finn. Hope we’ll see more of you around here.”