Epilogue 2
About a year after my trajectory changed
Alex
The partnership contract blurred in front of me, rows of legal text becoming abstract patterns rather than actual clauses. I blinked, refocusing on the section Tabitha had flagged with a sticky note. Revenue sharing looked solid, but the timeline for implementation needed…
Distant voices filtered through my office door. Normal office buzz, nothing unusual. I turned back to the contract.
More voices. Louder now. And was that…
Barking?
Barking. On the seventh floor of a downtown office building. Accompanied by Lennon’s distinctive laugh and what sounded like half the studio converging on reception.
Oh.
Oh.
I abandoned the contract, my chair rolling back as I stood. That was Iggy’s bark, which meant Finn was here, at the office, in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon in May.
I walked through the mostly empty break room and pulled open the door to the reception lobby.
Half my team had materialized near the sofas, and at the center of it all was roughly fifteen pounds of rust-colored, curly-eared puppy enthusiasm attached to a leash held by my slightly disheveled, definitely happy, absolutely gorgeous boyfriend.
Finn stood near the reception desk, hair escaping its usual neat bun, and his gray t-shirt clinging to his shoulders. He was grinning while Iggy attempted to organize everyone in the vicinity into some kind of formation.
“I’m not saying I’m disappointed you’re here,” Lennon was saying from their position on the floor, accepting enthusiastic puppy kisses, “but you could have warned me that my god-puppy was visiting. I would have prepared appropriate offerings.”
“Pretty sure the appropriate offering is just existing in his presence,” Casey chuckled, reaching down to give Iggy a solid ear scratch. “Hey, Ig. Yes, you’re a good boy. No, you can’t eat my shoelaces.”
Iggy disagreed, his tail whipping back and forth as he investigated this new person who smelled interesting and had very tempting footwear.
Finn’s face was flushed from exertion, but he was breathing easy. Iggy’s tongue lolled out, his dark eyes bright and alert. His coat was slightly mussed. The service dog vest he wore, still marked with the “IN TRAINING” patch, sat slightly askew on his small frame.
“You walked here,” I didn’t bother to make it a question.
Finn smiled sheepishly. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“With him?” I gestured to Iggy, who was now investigating the cardboard cutout of his Uncle Dom’s character in the corner.
“Socialization,” Finn lifted a shoulder, like it explained everything. “And energy management.” He watched Iggy bump the cutout with his nose, circling it. “Had to burn some off and I wanted to come tell you…” he swallowed. “Wanted to give you some news.”
My heart thumped twice in rapid succession. “News?”
“Maybe somewhere less...” He looked around at our impromptu puppy appreciation society, “chaotic?”
“Iggy no!” Lennon lunged for him, but it was too late. Iggy had decided to christen Dom’s effigy.
“Icarus Cisco Walker-Archer!” I used my best executive voice. “Did you just pee in my office? On your uncle?”
Iggy lowered his leg, curly ears swiveling toward me. For approximately three seconds, he looked appropriately chastened, his expression the picture of innocence.
Then he sneezed and darted between Casey’s legs, spring-loaded puppy energy propelling him toward two junior developers near the breakroom entrance.
“Finn, he peed on Dom,” I turned toward my boyfriend whose lopsided grin had split his features.
“I should probably let Dom know,” he fished his phone out of his pocket.
“You should not let him know!”
“I’ll get the emergency blow dryer,” Kirsty stood and headed to the cleaning closet.
“Come on,” I caught Finn’s hand, warm and slightly callused against mine. “We can talk in my office.”
“We’ll keep Iggy entertained!” Lennon scooped him up in their arms. “Go have your moment. Titi Lennon’s got this.”
Casey snorted, watching Iggy bark in protest, wiggling with his entire body to get free. “You sure about that? He seems very determined.”
“I’m aware,” Lennon laughed as Iggy successfully escaped his captor. “Look at that determination. He’s magnificent.”
I led Finn back through the doors, the familiar scent of his soap mixing with the faint smell of exertion and May sunshine. Behind us, I could hear Iggy’s enthusiastic investigation continuing, punctuated by laughter and gentle corrections from my team.
My office was blessedly quiet when we stepped inside, the afternoon light streaming through the windows casting everything in a warm glow.
Finn exhaled, his shoulders dropping as the office noise muffled.
“Isn’t three miles too far for his little legs?” I locked the door. “He must be exhausted.”
Finn’s mouth twitched. “Darlin’, Pumis are workin’ dogs. Bred for endurance. He basically sprinted the whole way.” He hit the button to close the shades between my office and the breakroom. “Hell, I’m more tired than he is.”
“He’s still a baby,” I protested, grabbing a water bottle from my minifridge in the corner and handing it to him.
“Baby with a job and an education,” he beamed. “And speakin’ of education...”
My stomach flipped. “Your news.”
“Yeah,” he set the water bottle down and settled his hands on my waist. “Got accepted. Master’s program at the U. They want me to start in August.”
“Finn Walker.” I pressed my hands to his chest, spreading my fingers over the soft cotton of his t-shirt, feeling his heart beating steady and strong underneath. “That’s incredible. That’s everything.”
“It is,” he nodded, blushing slightly. “Teaching at Hill, getting my master’s. It’s... I’m actually doing this. Building something real.”
“You are,” I reached up, caught the back of his neck, and pulled him down to kiss him. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Couldn’t have done it without—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted. “Don’t diminish this. You did the work. You earned it.”
He chuckled against my lips. “Still couldn’t have done it without you.”
I kissed him again instead of arguing.
He kissed my cheek before stepping back to thread his fingers through mine. “I also walked down ‘cause the other day you said you had somethin’ I might be able to help with?”
Right. Yes. The Sherlock problem that had been driving Casey and the dev team crazy for two weeks.
“We’ve been working on some military flight scenarios for a project we have, but something’s off with the NPC wingman’s behavior,” I moved to my desk and pulled up the simulation on my monitor. “The team’s been wrestling with it forever. Tactically wrong somehow, but they can’t figure out why.”
Finn stood behind me, leaning over my shoulder to scan the screen.
“Run a test?”
I pulled up the demo. The wingman made a series of decisions that looked fine on paper but were completely wrong in practice. Finn watched, silent, scanning the code next to the demo.
“There,” he pointed at a parameter string, his finger nearly touching the screen. “Throttle response curve is inverted. See that value? Should be negative point seven, not positive. The AI thinks pushing throttle forward means pulling back.”
I stared at the screen.
At the single line of code.
At the problem that had consumed two weeks of development time.
“That’s... it?”
“Everything else is solid. Decision trees look good, formation logic is sound. But your control input is backwards, so every tactical choice the wingman makes is trying to compensate for what it thinks is happening versus what’s actually happening.”
He straightened. “Pretty elegant problem, actually. Hard to spot because the AI was making smart decisions based on wrong input data.”
I blinked at him.
He’d just solved a problem that had stumped my entire development team.
He’d done it in approximately ninety seconds.
He was now standing there calmly like he hadn’t just demonstrated panty-melting competence.
“Finn,” I licked my lips.
“Hm?”
“That thing you just did. All that casual brilliance. It does things to a girl.”
His grin spread slowly across his face, eyes darkening. “Does it now?”
“Sure does.”
“What sorts of things?” He backed me against my desk, slotting his hips between my thighs. He cupped my face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks while his fingers slipped into my hair.
I kissed him slow, biting gently at his bottom lip, earning me a low groan at the back of his throat.
“You sure you don’t wanna come work for me instead, cowboy?” I whispered after a time, hooking my fingers in his waistband. “I’ll make it worth your time.”
Finn chuckled, kissing my neck.
“I’d never get any work done,” he teased. “And we’d both end up in HR.”
“Yeah, but I know the owner.” I gasped as he palmed my breast, thumb ghosting over my nipple. “I think I could get us off.”
“Baby, I’m sure you could get us off,” he growled, biting at my neck. “But I like it when you let me help.”
A loud thump against the door startled us both.
Followed by a distinctive whine.
Followed by scratching and what sounded like our dog attempting to tunnel through solid wood.
“Icarus,” Finn ordered. “Stand down.”
The scratching stopped.
For approximately five seconds.
Then it started again, more insistent, accompanied by a bark that suggested Iggy had opinions about being separated from his people.
I dropped my forehead against Finn’s chest, laughing despite myself. “Your son is incredibly persistent.”
“Wonder where he gets that from,” Finn pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “We should probably rescue whoever’s trying to contain him.”
“Probably.” I didn’t move. Neither did he.
Another thump. Another whine. Lennon’s voice, slightly desperate: “Casey, I need backup—”
“Okay,” I sighed, pulling back reluctantly. “Before he stages a full tactical assault.”
Finn opened the door to find fifteen pounds of determined chaos. Iggy’s entire backend wiggled, his little body bouncing as he lunged forward.
“He escaped,” Lennon said, slightly breathless. “Twice. He’s very resourceful.”
“And very loud,” Casey added from where he stood a few feet back, clearly having learned to stay out of range.
Iggy let out a sharp bark of pure joy as he jumped at Finn and then bounded toward me.
“Stand down, buddy,” Finn said, dropping into that voice that expected immediate obedience.
Iggy sat, his intense gaze locked on Finn, awaiting orders.
Then he was up again, investigating my office.
“Thought you said that works,” I observed.
“Usually works,” Finn corrected. “He’s still learnin’ the difference between ‘stand down’ and ‘stand down until something more interesting happens.’”
Iggy returned to me, tail still waving wildly, but waiting patiently. At least he’d remembered not to jump on me this time.
“Yes, hello, my tiny terrorist,” I crouched down, letting him sniff my face thoroughly. His tongue caught my cheek, warm and slightly rough, and I couldn’t help laughing. “We weren’t gone that long.”
“Felt like forever to him,” Finn smiled. “Kid’s got attachment issues.”
“People over paperwork,” Lennon beamed as I stood and we moved out into the break area. “I respect that.”
Tabitha appeared from her office, taking in the scene. “So. Good news?”
“Best news,” Finn grinned. “Master’s program. Starting in August.”
“That’s wonderful!” Tabitha clapped her hands together. “Congratulations, Finn. Really.”
“Thanks.” He glanced down at Iggy, who had decided I was an excellent target for herding and was attempting to move me toward the fridge where he knew there were tasty things he could eat. “Assuming Iggy here doesn’t eat my homework.”
“He wouldn’t,” I brushed rust-colored fur off my skirt. “He’d herd your homework into a neat pile and then guard it aggressively.”
Casey pulled a bag of baby carrots out of the fridge. “Because clearly someone needs positive reinforcement for walking three miles with a puppy in May.”
“The puppy or me?” Finn asked, taking the bag.
“Yes.”
Iggy’s ears perked up at the sound of the bag crinkling, his entire focus shifting from herding me to the much more important mission of acquiring treats. He sat without being asked, tail sweeping the floor behind him as he locked on the bag with laser focus.
“Look at that,” Lennon marveled. “Perfect sit. Good boy, Iggy!”
“He’s very food-motivated,” Finn fished out a carrot and snapped it in half with one hand. “Icarus. Wait.”
Iggy waited, trembling with the effort of not lunging forward, his gaze never leaving the treat in Finn’s hand.
“At ease.”
The treat disappeared in approximately half a second, followed by Iggy’s immediate return to scanning for additional opportunities.
Gretchen appeared, stopping short when she saw the scene. “Is that the famous Iggy?”
“I think you mean infamous,” I watched our chaos gremlin discover that Gretchen was new and interesting and definitely needed to be investigated thoroughly.
“He’s so small!”
“He’s still growing,” Finn distracted Iggy with another carrot piece. “Give him six months.”
Iggy decided he’d rather organize everyone in the vicinity into a tighter formation. Gretchen backed up, laughing. Casey moved closer to Tabitha. Lennon stayed exactly where they were, clearly used to being herded by now.
“Baby with a job,” Finn smiled fondly.
“We should probably get him home,” I sighed eventually, watching Iggy successfully convince Kirsty that she definitely wanted to be standing near the sink. “Before he decides everyone needs to be near the fridge permanently.”
“Probably,” he agreed, not moving from where we were sitting against one of the dining tables.
Lennon leaned over to give Iggy one last scratch behind his curly ears. “You’re welcome back anytime, buddy. Titi Lennon’s door is always open.”
“Dangerous offer,” Finn chuckled, crouching down to attach Iggy’s leash. “He’ll take you up on that.”
“I’m counting on it.”
I caught Finn’s hand, lacing our fingers together. “Come on. Let’s get home before he’s so tired he becomes completely ungovernable.”
We made our way to the finally-renovated elevator, Iggy leading the way with confidence. The elevator doors closed on just the three of us.
Iggy sat at our feet calmly. Finn pulled me close and pressed a kiss to my temple.
“Love you,” he whispered against my hair. “Thanks for letting me share the news here. At your place.”
“Love you,” I leaned against him. “This is your place too now.”
Iggy barked in agreement.
Finn smiled, looking completely content. “Yeah. I guess it is.”