Chapter 5 System Error Heart Not Found
SYSTEM ERROR: HEART NOT FOUND
LUKE
By nine-thirty Monday morning, I'm back in my corner office on the forty-second floor of the Sterling Security building, staring out at Elliott Bay through floor-to-ceiling windows that usually make me feel like I can conquer the world.
Today, they just remind me how far I am from Alder Ridge.
The mid-October sky over Seattle is its usual palette of gray, and I should be reviewing the SafeStay beta reports that arrived this morning.
Instead, I'm replaying the sight of auburn-haired Sage Winters standing in her kitchen at seven AM, simultaneously scrambling eggs, fielding phone calls about cancelled bookings, and trying to prevent Buttercup from eating a guest's Hermès bag.
My computer chimes with another news alert, and I reluctantly turn my attention to the screen.
The headlines have gotten progressively more creative since yesterday:
Tech Billionaire's Mountain Romance Blooms at Historic Inn
Love in the Time of Goat Yoga: Luke Sterling's Weekend Getaway
EXCLUSIVE: Inside the Cozy Retreat Where Seattle's Most Eligible Bachelor Found Love
I scroll through the articles, each one more breathless than the last, complete with photos of me looking disheveled and covered in goat hair.
Mira's Instagram post has spawned an entire media ecosystem, and somehow the narrative has evolved from "awkward midnight encounter" to "whirlwind romance."
My phone buzzes with a text from Connor: Saw the news. Either you work fast or that goat is an excellent wingman.
Another from Grayson: SecureMatch usage in the Pacific Northwest is up 300% since yesterday. You're officially our best advertisement.
And one from Alex that's just a screenshot of a tabloid headline: From Code to Cuddles: Sterling's Small-Town Love Story.
I'm contemplating the various ways I could disappear from public view when my assistant Daniella appears in my doorway, holding what appears to be a stack of phone messages thick enough to stop a bullet.
"Good morning, sunshine," she sing-songs. "How was your romantic mountain getaway?"
Daniella Martinez has been my assistant for three years, ever since she graduated from UW with a degree in business administration and the kind of organizational skills that border on supernatural.
She's also one of the few people who can get away with giving me grief about my personal life.
"It wasn't romantic," I say. "It was investigative."
"Mm-hmm." She sets the messages on my desk with a theatrical flourish. "Well, your investigation has generated forty-seven interview requests, twelve marriage proposals from strangers, and one very interesting call from a producer at Hallmark asking about movie rights."
"Movie rights?"
"Apparently your love story has all the elements of a hit romantic comedy. Small-town innkeeper, big-city billionaire, adorable farm animals, scenic mountain setting..." She counts off on her fingers. "They're calling it 'Christmas at the Cascade.'"
I put my head in my hands. "Please tell me you're joking."
"I never joke about potential licensing deals." She perches on the edge of my desk. "Although I did turn down the reality show proposal. 'Bachelor in the Mountains' seemed like a hard pass."
"There was a reality show proposal?"
"Three, actually. One of them wanted to follow you and Sage planning your wedding."
"We're not getting married.”
"Tell that to your grandmother."
I look up. "My grandmother?"
"Beatrice Sterling has called nine times since seven AM. She wants to know why she had to find out about your new relationship from the Seattle Times instead of from you directly." Daniella's grin turns wicked. "She's also very excited about the possibility of great-grandchildren."
My phone immediately starts ringing, as if summoned by our conversation.
The caller ID shows exactly what I expected.
Beatrice Sterling herself.
"I have to take this," I tell Daniella.
"Good luck," she says, heading for the door. "Oh, and the SafeStay panel reviews came in this morning. They're on your desk."
She disappears, leaving me alone with my ringing phone and a growing sense of dread.
I answer on the fourth ring. “Good morning, Nana."
"Lukas Thomas Sterling." My grandmother's voice could cut glass. "Do you want to explain to me why I'm reading about your love life in the newspaper instead of hearing it from my own grandson?"
“Why I’m fantastic. Thanks for asking. Yes, I’m having a great morning. Appreciate your concern.”
“Don’t get smart with me, Lukas. I’m serious.”
“I’m serious, too, Nan. It's not what it looks—"
"It looks like you finally came to your senses and found yourself a nice girl who isn't afraid of hard work."
I lean back in my chair, already exhausted by this conversation. "Nana, I'm not dating anyone.”
"The newspaper says otherwise."
"The newspaper is wrong."
"The newspaper has photographs, Lukas. Very romantic photographs of you looking absolutely smitten with a lovely young woman named Sage Winters in what appears to be a charming mountain inn."
I close my eyes. "Those photographs are taken out of context."
"Context, schmcontext. You look happy. Happier than you've looked since..." She pauses. “Well, anyway, I just hate seeing you as alone as you’ve been lately. By the way…” she trails off, voice tightening, “have you heard from Kevin?”
Just the sound of his name makes heat flame underneath my collar.
“Nana, I’m not alone. I have work—"
"Work isn't the same as love, darling. And you can't let what happened with…her color every relationship for the rest of your life."
The familiar knot forms in my stomach. "Nana, let’s not talk about this.”
"Well, why not? I mean, you broke up with that lovely doctor—"
"Amanda."
"—because she wanted to introduce you to her family. Which is what normal people do when they're in love."
"I wasn't in love with Amanda."
"Exactly my point!" Her voice rises. “Which is why I signed you up for another dating app yesterday.”
“You what?”
“Now, don’t give me lip. I know you were only on Grayson’s app because you two are friends, but you need a real dating app.
And a real woman.” I can hear her grin. “I already matched you with one. Her name is Becky Langston. She’s five-foot-seven, likes dogs, hates snakes, and is really very good at CrossFit—“
The sound of my grandmother’s voice turns to background noise as my computer chimes with an urgent email notification.
The subject line makes my stomach tighten.
SafeStay Beta Panel Results - URGENT REVIEW REQUIRED.
"Nana, I have to go. Work emergency."
“Wait! What should I tell Becky? She wants to know your Zodiac sign!”
“Tell her I don’t have one.”
"Lukas—"
"I'll talk to you later."
I hang up before she can guilt me into making commitments I don't intend to keep, then immediately open the email from my development team.
Shit. This is exactly what my morning didn’t need.
What I didn’t need.
The SafeStay beta results are... not good.
Actually? They're catastrophic.
The test implementations at three luxury hotels in Portland resulted in system crashes, guest data breaches, and what the report diplomatically calls "significant user experience failures."
One hotel had to shut down their entire booking system for forty-eight hours.
The panel feedback is even worse:
"SafeStay feels like overkill for smaller properties."
"The interface is too complex for staff without technical backgrounds."
"This seems designed for Fortune 500 hotels, not the boutique market you're targeting."
I scroll through page after page of criticism, my heart jackhammering harder with every word I read. My mind buzzes.
Eighteen months.
Eighteen months of development. Tens of millions in investment.
And I've somehow created a product that's too complicated for the very market I'm trying to serve.
My phone buzzes with a text from the head of development.
Emergency meeting at 2 PM. We’d like to discuss next steps.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, and try to figure out how this went so wrong.
SafeStay was supposed to be my breakthrough into the hospitality industry. The product that would establish Sterling Security as the go-to cybersecurity solution for hotels and inns.
Instead, I've created something that three-star hotels can't use and five-star hotels don't need.
My computer chimes again, this time with a Google alert for my name.
Another article about my "romantic weekend," complete with speculation about wedding plans and quotes from Alder Ridge residents about how "perfect" Sage Winters and I are together.
I find myself clicking through to the Cascade View Inn's website.
The property is beautiful, that’s a given. The atmosphere’s cozy, the people lovely—if not a little pushy.
And yet it’s failing.
Anyone who spent more than five minutes at the inn could see that.
The cancelled bookings. The DIY maintenance.
The Wonder Woman undies-owning manager who looked like she’d taken exhaustion to bed with her every night.
Under the pine-green eyes of the woman I’d shared a breakfast with were dark shadows, lifeless skin.
In that kitchen, over a set of Sterling Romance pancakes, we’d barely discussed SafeStay before she’d left—pulled in a million other directions that the inn needed.
I knew the feeling.
The feeling that one wrong move, one bad pull on a loose thread, would unravel everything you’ve built.
A shame.
If the inn weren’t in such bad shape, it’d actually be a…
My teeth grind in my mouth, my thoughts starting to work overtime. Seconds later, I pick up my desk phone.
It barely rings twice before Daniella picks it up.
“You changed your mind about ‘Bachelor in the Mountains,’ boss?”
“No. Hell no.” I clear my throat. “Dani, I need you to book me a hotel stay this weekend.”
“Sure thing. I’m guessing the W. The LXR? Or the Four Seasons?”
“Not exactly.” I grip the phone tighter. “The Cascade View Inn. In Alder Ridge. Make it for one night. And as for the ‘accommodation notes’ in the booking, listen up.” I clear my throat, my thoughts straying to visions of green eyes and goats. “Because I’m only going to say this once.”