Chapter 43
forty-three
. . .
Ceci
Colt stares at me over our harvest bowl salads. We’re back at the bistro, at my favorite table in the corner, and he has his tablet out to jot down notes.
“Okay, what is it?” He has that infuriatingly knowing look in his eyes, like he’s already figured out the answer and refuses to clue me in.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, stabbing a sweet potato cube out of the bowl.
“You’re a shell of yourself today. It’s not like you.” His eyes narrow. “Did you and the hockey player have a fight?”
I roll my eyes. “No. I was up all night coding.”
“Oh?”
“Third time in two weeks,” I admit.
Colt blinks, then sits back in his seat. “Wow. Really?”
I nod, playing with my food instead of eating. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But it’s fun to get my hands dirty again.”
He chuckles. “You always did have a hard time letting go.”
“Like you’re one to talk.” He’s just as much a workaholic as I am. It’s simply more socially acceptable for men than for women to be utterly consumed by their work.
And considering how much I love what I do… working isn’t a hardship. It brings joy into my life.
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” he fires back. “That’s why I said what I said.”
“This is new. It’s super new.” So new I’ve barely told Aidan about it. Broad strokes only, not the details. I’m not ready. Once I open that can of worms, it becomes real.
“But you can’t stop thinking about it,” he says, pointing at me with his fork.
“Right.”
This new project is fun and exciting. Like a new relationship, except it’s with a computer and not a romantic partner. It consumes my every waking thought. I love it as much as I hate it.
Colt leans forward in his seat. “I think you should do it.”
“It would mean leaving the helmet project.” The one I committed to bringing to fruition, the work the board—and the team—are counting on me to produce results.
“They’ll survive without you.”
“You’re awfully glib about a project you’re invested in.”
“I’m not invested in the project,” he says. “I’m invested in you.”
“The board—”
“I joined the board because of you. Because you asked me to.”
He’s not a sports fan, and I only suggested it because I knew he was floundering without having something to fill his time. Now, he’s involved in multiple organizations, and he’s started a new company, but he’s still that quiet, awkward computer nerd who gets flustered around jocks.
Except for one.
I swallow. “Colty…”
“It’s been rewarding. I like the team, and I like that we’re doing good things for youth hockey,” he continues. “But it’s not my life’s dream. If I had to give it up, I would. I’d walk away in a heartbeat—and run to whatever new project you’ve got percolating.”
“It might not be anything,” I mumble, pushing the food around in my bowl.
He rolls his eyes. “I know you, and I know what you’re capable of. You’re building something that I want in on.”
“You don’t even know what I’m working on.”
“So tell me. If you need help coding, put me in, Coach.”
I giggle. “Look at you with your sports lingo.”
“Hey, I’m picking up a few things.” Colt smirks, his eyes crinkling. “What is it?”
“It’s a new predictive model.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Go on…”
“For draft picks. Or potential picks.”
When he nods, I launch into an explanation of what my statistical models can do.
What I want them to do. There’s still so much uncertainty in drafting skilled players.
They could get injured or be traded or crumble under the pressure or completely fail at living up to expectations.
They could have reasons for stepping away from the sport.
There are so many variables. I’m stripping away a few, isolating the issues and accounting for a steady rate of attrition. It’s a meaty project. Heavy.
But if it works… if it works… it could be monumentally huge.
“I think this is a brilliant move for you,” Colt says when I’m done.
“I might sell it,” I admit.
“So refine it and sell it,” he says, as if it’s that easy. “You need a new project. The helmets were boring you. You might like them, but a piece of you is dying inside showing up every day.”
He’s not wrong.
“I like this idea. I can see it on your face, in the way you talk about it. You love this. Statistical analysis has always been your forte.” He pauses, and when I raise my eyebrows, he soldiers on.
“I was getting a bit worried about you. Being with Aidan has been good for you, but I know you. You need to stay busy. And he has his own life outside of you.”
I’m not sure what he’s getting at. “Isn’t that healthy? Like, aren’t we supposed to have our own things?”
He nods, suddenly a relationship expert. “But you aren’t filling your time with enrichment. You were stagnating.”
I frown. “I have things in my life.”
“Yeah, and how bored are you?”
He’s right. Damn it, he’s so right.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, and Colt laughs.
“This is good for you,” he repeats. “I want you to thrive. The status quo will hold you back. This will open new opportunities for you.”
“I don’t need opportunities.”
“You need to be challenged. To work for something.”
“I work hard.”
“You do. So let’s aim that effort at the right things.”
“I really don’t like you right now.” I point my fork at him. “You’re being mean to me.”
Colt smirks. “No, Ceci, I’m being honest. You should try it sometime.”
“Hey! I’m not a liar.”
“Be honest with yourself. Do some introspection, talk it out with Aidan, whatever you need. And you know I’ll always be your sounding board. Just… keep your mind open.”
With a sigh, I sit back in my seat. “I’ll try.”
“Good job.”
All that’s missing is a pat on the head. I resist the urge to throw something at him. I don’t want to get blacklisted from my favorite restaurant.
“You don’t have to be patronizing, asshole.”
He cracks up laughing. “Oh, Cec. I love you sometimes.”
My eyes narrow into pinpricks. “Just sometimes?”
Colt chortles with delight. “Okay, all the time. Happy now?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Me too,” he says.
“How did this happen?” I marvel.
“What?”
“You. Me. We’re succeeding. We’re thriving.”
“We’re both dating jocks,” he fires back.
“That too.”
“We’ve come a long way,” he says.
“We have.” My thoughts drift to when we met at MIT two and a half decades ago, through all the ups and downs of early startup culture and the grinding hustle of building billion-dollar companies, the years of friendly rivalry until we finally agreed to put competition aside and be friends.
“And yet, we’ve got a long way to go.” He pins me with a fond smile. “You planning on leaving me anytime soon?”
“Colty, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
We finish up lunch without any further sentimentalities, and then I head back to Aidan’s place. I haven’t been back to my house for more than a change of clothes in weeks. He likes having me at his apartment, and I hate my house, so it works out great for both of us.
He’s sitting on the couch when I walk in the door, a bowl of cereal in one hand as he reads on his tablet with the other.
“Hey. You’re back,” he says, giving me a happy smile. “How was lunch with Colt?”
“It went well.” I duck down to kiss him, savoring the taste of cinnamon on his lips. “I think I’m going to give it a go.”
“Give what a go?”
“The new project.” Dropping onto the sofa beside him, I draw one leg up as I face him. “We talked out a few logistics.”
He blinks. “What about the helmet project?”
“If I’m the sole lynchpin keeping it together, it will never survive.”
They can hire someone else to monitor the code and install patches. Any coding monkey with a keyboard can handle it. They need Bex, who interprets the data, and the neuroscience intern she works with. They don’t need me.
“This is what you want?” Aidan checks.
I nod.
“Then I’m all for it,” he says, giving me a quick kiss. “What do you need from me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, do you need designated time to work? An office space? More snacks for brain food?”
Carefully, I take the bowl of cereal out of his hand, setting it on the coffee table. He stares at me, confused.
And then I launch myself at him in a tackle hug. He lets out a quiet oof at the impact but wraps his arms around me and holds me tight.
“Thank you,” I murmur into his neck.
“You’re welcome. What did I do?”
“You’re just you. Quietly here, supporting me.” I kiss the hinge of his jaw. “I appreciate that more than you can ever know.”
“I’d do anything for you, Ceci,” he whispers.
I pull back enough so I can see his face. “I know you would.”
Aidan swallows loudly. “Good. I’m glad.”
“The same goes for me too,” I add. “Anything you want, I’ll make it happen.”
“How do you feel about Greece?” he blurts.
I stare at him. “What?”
“This summer. You, me, Hailey, and Ryan. Two weeks in Greece.”
“You want to go on vacation?”
“If that doesn’t work, we can go to Italy. Or Spain.” His arms tighten around me. “I just want to go somewhere with you. Explore. I want us to build a future beyond what’s happening right this minute.”
“So this summer…”
“And next fall.” He brushes his nose against my cheek. “New Year’s. Next season’s All Star break.”
My heart thumps in my chest. He wants to build a future with me. He sees me in his life for months to come. Maybe even years.
“Greece sounds wonderful,” I tell him. “I’ll make arrangements.”
But Aidan shakes his head. “I’ll handle it. All you have to do is show up with your passport and a suitcase. Maybe a bikini. Leave the rest to me.”
A weight lifts off my shoulders. He’s a partner, a true partner. The burden isn’t mine alone anymore. He’s right there beside me, doing his part.
“I’ll be there,” I promise.
He kisses me, soft and slow. “I’m looking forward to it.”