CHAPTER 20
Special K
The first thought that occurs to me when I wake up is that I’ve got to get back to Boots. Nothing else matters. And though I’m aware that StellaR Tech business needs my attention and ranch work needs to get done, I realize that it’s taking a backseat to the only thing I want.
I want to see her. Today.
It’s that flamethrower of a kiss. I know the way I pushed up on her was way out of line. But she didn’t seem to mind. She was all in.
And I want more out-of-line time with her. I want it all.
I jump out of bed, take a quick shower, and brush my teeth. I skip the razor—no time to shave. I slip on a pair of Wranglers and a black long-sleeve T-shirt and find my boots where I left them in the foyer. I slip them on and go to open my front door, shocked that I’m unable to.
Because I forgot I locked it last night. I head outside and walk down the lane in the brisk morning air of the mountains.
I head down the lane toward Cal’s house and the secure meeting room within.
We have an important conference this morning.
There’s so much happening with StellaR Tech these days that I’m barely keeping up with the developments.
Most of what we do is classified and the tech we provide to our U.S.
government partners is cutting-edge. For that reason, there are a lot of bad actors—other countries and private companies—who’d love to get their hands on it. We can’t be too careful.
And apparently, we can’t get too rich. Because the money keeps on coming.
I don’t know how much money I have, exactly.
Most is stacking up in index funds, a range of investments both big and small.
I invest directly in a few startups if I find their approach particularly interesting.
The rest goes right back into the company or the ranch, and whatever is left I send to charities.
Always anonymously. Otherwise, that kind of shit gets awkward fast.
Today, we’ll be watching our San Diego technical team present deep dives on the status of new capabilities, tech we’ve just sold to the Joint Cybersecurity Task Force. That deal was worth a hell of a lot of money. Bigger than our other deals put together. It’s an unfathomable amount, really.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with the next truckload of cash that’s about to land in my bank account. I’ll have to find more charities, I guess.
As I’m thinking all this, I hear expensive athletic shoes hitting the ground behind me in a run, tapping down like a whisper onto the dusty berm of the ranch road. A lightweight step. A long-legged glide.
Harper.
I would know the sound of her stride anywhere. I wonder how many times I accompanied her on one of her ten-mile morning runs around Kent Island in the Chesapeake Bay where her family keeps a summer home.
Those memories belong to a different man. They’re from a lifetime ago.
“Kevin, wait.”
I keep walking, not changing my pace, pretending I don’t hear her. She’s breathing hard behind me, catching up. I wonder how many miles she’s clocked this morning and if she’s still training for marathons.
Not that I care.
“Look, I came here to discuss something with you, all right? Please hear me out. It’s about StellaR Tech.”
A cold chill skitters up the flesh of my arms. Those words are the last thing I ever expected to hear come out of her mouth. I don’t like hearing our business—named in honor of our mother Stella Roberts MacLaine—escape Harper’s lips.
She has no right to it. She has no right to anything connected to my family. She shouldn’t even be here.
“I’ve been active duty for a lot of years. I’m at a crossroads, I think,” she continues.
I stop and stare at her. The front of her tank top is soaked through with sweat. She leans forward and puts her hands on her knees to catch her breath, which also provides a peak down into her cleavage if I want to look. I don’t. I look away.
“I’m being vetted for a new position, but I’m thinking hard about what I see for myself next, what I really want.”
She raises her brown eyes and tries to catch my gaze, but I look down the ranch lane instead. I don’t want to engage with her. Whatever she’s got up her sleeve, it isn’t good for me or mine.
“With my experience and connections and clearances, I was thinking of resigning and moving to the private sector. I can offer a lot to…”
I make a show that I’m not listening, and I start walking again. She has to be crazy to give up her retirement package at this point. She must be expecting a huge payout from whatever private sector opportunity she envisions for herself.
But is she implying that, for some insane reason, she thinks StellaR Tech is that opportunity? I’ve never heard anything more bizarre in my life.
Harper’s got a set of cojones on her, that’s for sure.
“I was there at the task force meeting in London, Kevin,” she continues, following me. “You guys are doing spectacular stuff. Important stuff. You’re brilliant. And if I leave the Navy, it will have to be for that high level of national security work.”
Every compliment she throws my way makes me want to punch something hard. Does she think this is a fucking job interview? Does she think I would ever consent to giving her a role in my family’s business? I can’t even be in the same room with her!
I can barely handle sharing the same morning air with her.
I arrive at Cal’s. I jog up the steps to the front porch, leaving Harper down on the gravel lane. I open the front door and shut it quickly behind me, walking into Cal’s house.
“Chicken and waffles are waiting for you in the kitchen, Special K,” Victoria calls from the back deck. She’s got her feet up in a lounge chair, reading a book. “Don’t worry—I didn’t make breakfast. Emma did.”
“Roger that. Thanks.” I smile to myself. Victoria is a business genius, but a chef she is not. That’s Emma’s wheelhouse.
I hear her get up and walk behind me as I make my way into the kitchen. She hops up to take a seat on the counter while I serve myself a large helping of chicken and waffles.
“Harper’s a very impressive woman,” she says.
I need to make a break for it. I don’t want to talk to Victoria about Harper. I don’t want to talk about Harper to anyone. I don’t even want to think about her.
I pick up my plate of food and grab a mug of hot coffee. “Sorry. Gotta get to the meeting.”
I hurry down the hallway to the conference room steel door. I balance my plate on my mug while I swipe my ID through the card reader and punch in my fourteen-digit access code. As a last step, I position my eye over the retina scanner. I get buzzed in.
“No food in the conference room!” Cal barks.
“Uh-huh,” I say, pushing aside two bags of chips and a banana to clear a place at the table. I sit next to Finn and across from Evander and Declan. A huge platter of Emma’s blueberry muffins is perched in the middle of the table.
Cal paces the room, agitated. Finally, he sits at the head of the table. “Snacks are fine. But not an entire takeout menu.”
I dip my batter-fried drumstick into a pool of maple syrup and take a bite, ignoring him.
Cal’s in a foul mood, and I’m sure I’ll find out why during this meeting.
No sense poking the bear or asking the bear to talk about his feelings.
In my experience, no good comes from asking Cal to explain why he’s in a bad mood.
It just gives him an excuse to be in an even worse mood.
“Meeting doesn’t start for five whole minutes,” Finn says. “He’ll be done with his breakfast by then, so cut him some slack.”
I glare up at Finn. I don’t need him protecting me from Cal. It annoys me that he thinks I need shielding. I spear a large piece of waffle and a chunk of chicken and stuff it in my mouth. When I wash it down with the coffee, Evander chimes in.
“Harper still here?”
“Still here and gunning for a job with StellaR Tech,” I say with my mouth full.
Declan fumbles with his coffee cup and nearly spills all of it on the table. He grabs a napkin and tries to mop it up.
“That’s why there’s no food in the conference room!” Cal yells. “We’ve got three hundred grand worth of electronics in here!”
Evander’s mouth drops open as he stares at me. “What did you just say?”
I finish up my breakfast and push the plate away from me. I lean back in the chair and sip at my coffee before I answer. “Harper wants a piece of the private sector. She mentioned the great work Stella R Tech is doing and how impressed she was with your presentation in London,” I tell him.
“Well, she’s got the experience for it,” Finn says.
He’s right. She’s definitely got the resume.
“She’s got the tickets,” Declan adds.
He’s right about that, too. She probably has security clearances I haven’t even heard of.
“Not happening,” Cal says. “I’m giving that idea a full-frontal-fuck-no. Absolutely not.”
Everyone turns to look at me, but I keep my eyes on the remains of my coffee.
“We’ve got decisions to make today,” Cal barks. “It’s time to cut the shit and get to work.” He glances at me for a millisecond and then opens his laptop.
Oh. I now understand his bad mood. Harper already hit up Cal for the job. She sure doesn’t waste any time.
With the Harper conversation behind us, we slip into business mode. The meeting is mostly successful and even though we run it with our usual military precision, we don’t get out of the secured room until afternoon.
All I can think about is getting back to Washoe Ridge.