by Karen Rock
He placed it beside his monitor. “Think nothing of it, Ms. Renshaw, Rodent Enthusiast.”
Their light laughter rose then fell, and in its wake a silence descended that left them staring at each other for a long breathless moment.
“We should get to work—”
“The coffee must be almost finished—”
They spoke simultaneously then hurried off, Niall to grab mugs and Kayleigh to finish arranging her things on her new desk, contentment filling her. Minutes later, she placed her family picture beside her name card and stepped back to study the effect.
“I got some good news in the mail yesterday,” she called, just to fill the quiet air between them.
The smell of something strong and Colombian announced Niall’s approach. “What was it?”
“Senator Gillibrand is going to make higher-level inquiries into declassifying Chris’s death. It’s the furthest I’ve gotten with a politician, and she has a reputation for keeping her promises.”
A harsh intake of breath sounded. Not so much a gasp as a long inhale through the nose. When she turned, Niall’s face was white, and he swallowed hard enough to make his Adam’s apple bob.
“Are you okay?” She took the mugs from him and guided him into the living room. They sat. Or she sat, rather. Niall’s knees simply buckled.
He passed a shaking hand over his face. “Fine.”
She lowered his hand and held it, concern filling her. “Liar. What upset you?”
His eyes flickered toward the desk and lingered before they dropped. “Don’t mind me. Let’s start the meeting.”
“Is it Chris?”
Niall blanched, paler still. “What?”
“Does he remind you of Afghanistan?” It seemed like a loose connection, but it was the best she could come up with.
He nodded curtly, his expression pained as he gazed toward his curtained-off windows, where the drooping spider plant hung. Did Niall appreciate its reputation for hardiness? Relate to it? He may have survived, but he hadn’t escaped the war unscathed. She should be sensitive to that.
She briskly strode to her desk and slipped the picture back into her briefcase. It’d go on her nightstand, Chris’s encouraging smile the first thing she’d see when she woke. Better there than reopening old wounds for Niall. She headed into the kitchen, heart heavy that she’d gotten their meeting off to a bad start. After turning off the tap, she returned to the plant and dumped in a glass of water. Like its owner, it needed tending.
Niall’s rigid shoulders lowered. “You don’t have to put away that picture for me, Kay.”
“I’m putting it away for both of us. We need to focus all of our attention on High Dive Enterprises. Think about the future, not the past. Starting now.”
His face relaxed, and he leaned back on the sofa. “How did you come up with that name?”
She fumbled for the curtain cord and spoke without looking up. “Remember how you taught me to dive that summer at camp?”
“How could I forget?” To her relief, Niall’s voice sounded normal again. “You practically gouged the board with your toenails before you let go of my hand and leaped.”
Her fingers found the string, and she yanked, the curtains parting with a swish. “Exactly. That’s what this start-up is for me. Letting go. Beginning again. Not playing it safe.”
“Could you close those, please?”
She turned to one of the side windows in the three-window combination and parted the material, letting sunlight flood the dim room.
“Nope. We need light, Niall, just like that plant. To grow. I won’t work in the dark and neither should you.”
He was quiet for a moment as she searched for the last curtain pull. “Okay. But consider this my first business compromise.”
“First of many, I hope.” She tugged, and the last curtain opened to reveal a small gray tabby cat on the fire escape. Its little mouth opened when it spotted her, the black pads of its paws pressed against the glass.
“It’s Chairman Meow!”
Niall raised one eyebrow and cocked his head. “Who?”
She threw the sash up and struggled with the screen. The kitty’s meows sounded hungry. “Help me, Niall.”
“With what?” He began organizing paperwork into piles.
“We need to let in the cat.”
“No.” He joined her at the window and looked from the young cat to her. “Pets aren’t allowed in the building, and this is just a stray. It doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“Hold on, Chairman Meow,” she huffed, ignoring him as she strained to pull up the screen.
“Are we getting any work done this morning?” He sighed behind her.
She wiped her damp brow. “Once we give the cat a meal.”
Niall mumbled something about pushy women, nudged her aside and yanked the stuck screen. In an instant, a silver blur flashed through the air, landing on his chest.
“Hmmmph.” Niall stumbled backward when the feline climbed onto his shoulder.
“Chairman Meow thinks he belongs to you.”
“As we say in the IT world, that’s invalid data.” His muffled voice sounded through the feathery tail lashing across his face. “Can you help me with this?” He pulled the cat, but its nails were embedded in his shirt.
Oh, this was too rich. Niall, the bitter recluse, had been chosen by one of the most adorable strays she’d ever seen. “Sorry. I think Chairman Meow is now a permanent appendage.”
A helpless expression crossed his face. “I don’t want this cat.” A loud purring erupted as the animal butted its head into Niall’s neck.
It was hard not to laugh at a large man held captive by a tiny creature. “I don’t think you have a choice.”
“Please, Kay. Help.”
“Fine. But you are not tossing out that cat.”
When Niall gave her a noncommittal shrug, she filled a bowl with milk and returned, placing it on the floor by an end table. After rubbing Niall’s cheek with the side of its face, the cat jumped away for the treat, its pink tongue darting in and out of the liquid.
She clasped her hands in her lap, itching to pet the stray. “I wonder if it’s a girl or boy.”
“A boy.” Niall brushed cat hair off his shirt. “We got a bit intimately acquainted while you were gone.”
She fought back a smile at his misery. “Hopefully, you won’t need years of therapy now.”
“Possibly.” Niall raised his mug, his eyes laughing over the brim. “Can we start now?”
“If we must.” Kayleigh gave an exaggerated sigh, then grabbed her briefcase. She started up her minilaptop and sipped her coffee while waiting for the desktop folders to open, furtively studying Niall as he got settled behind his own keyboard. He’d been an easygoing kid who’d turned into a hard-bitten man. Yet more and more, she saw flashes of the boy who’d made her laugh, and now a man who attracted her to no end.
She halted her wayward thoughts and opened a document labeled Must Traits. “I thought we could go over these, make a preliminary list for you to begin programming.”
Niall nodded and drank more of his coffee. “Mind if I have a brownie while we look?”
“Of course. Gianna, my roommate, made them this morning to shake off last night’s bad date. Some guy cut her steak for her at dinner then used baby talk to ask for a kissy-wissy.” She grabbed a napkin and placed the chocolate square on it. Poor Gianna. She really had the worst luck.
“Baby talk, huh? Don’t imagine that’ll make our Must Traits list. And I’ll have two, thanks.” Niall held out a broad palm. When their eyes met, her mind went as blank as fresh paper.
The corners of his mouth quirked. “Unless you want them all to yourself?”
His prompt shook her out of her vegetative state. He should be careful when he
smiled that way. It reached his eyes and transformed his handsome face into something special. Something that made her heart thump in a way that could not be construed as “friendly.”
“Oh. Yes. Two coming up.” She handed over the desserts and bit into one herself, the moist, dense bar melting on her tongue. It was her third of the day, but who was counting? She’d start her diet tomorrow. As usual.
His broad shoulder brushed hers as he leaned close and peered at the Must Traits document. “I have the latest version of this, correct?” His breath was warm against the back of her neck, making goose bumps rise over her whole body.
When Chairman Meow looked up from his milk, droplets of white clinging to his long whiskers, she scratched his sweet little head. It was a welcome distraction. She could hardly breathe for the nearness of Niall, the way he moved, the sound of his voice as it touched the air around them.
“It was with the original materials.”
Niall lowered his brownie, his expression thoughtful. “Number twenty-three, forty-five, sixty-two and eighty are redundant, twelve doesn’t make sense, and ninety-one through one hundred are unnecessary.” He sipped his coffee then said, “In fact, if we could get this list down to twenty-five essential traits, it’d be more user-friendly.”
She stopped stroking the kitty’s arching back and gaped at him. “Every one of those is crucial.”
“Dogs are mentioned three times. ‘Must love dogs,’ ‘Must love big dogs,’ ‘Must love my dogs.’ And cats are used five times. ‘Must love cats,’ ‘Must own a cat,’ ‘Must have once owned a cat,’ ‘Must be willing to own a cat’ and ‘Must be willing to clean cat litter.’”
After swallowing another bite of brownie, she scooped up Chairman Meow and held him up before giving him a cuddle. “See how special he is? Like I said. Each one has an important nuance that is essential to finding the right person. A forever person. Your only love.”
A strange expression came over Niall’s face, and he seemed to look deep into her, not into her eyes, but through her eyes. As if he could see the thoughts clamoring to betray her. She glanced down then up again, finding it hard to look away.
“And you’re certain your app will do this,” he said, his face serious. “Help people find true love?”
Her hand stilled on Chairman Meow’s white belly, earning her a prickly swat. She gave an emphatic nod. “Of course. Don’t you agree?”
Niall frowned a bit. “No. I see it as a fun conversation starter, more or less.”
She scowled. “So you’re saying our product is some kind of joke? That users won’t take it seriously? What’s on your list? The one you made at camp. You believed in it then.”
The question seemed to catch Niall unprepared. He sat still and awkward for a moment, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for a way out. Finally, he shook his head.
“I was a kid.”
“But you’ll make one now, of course.” She added it to her to-do list so that she wouldn’t forget to look for it.
“No.” Niall waved Chairman Meow’s tail as the cat batted at it. “I compromised about the windows and the cat. But I’m not making a list.”
Disappointment filled her. How closed off could he be? Sheesh. She was right to be firm with herself about not falling for him. They were great as friends, but couldn’t be less compatible romantically—with or without a list, it was obvious.
After a long moment, Niall drew a deep, slow breath. “We’re better off using traits from your list or ones we get from market samples.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”
He tilted his face, one corner of his mouth lifting in a wry half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t exactly fall into your target audience.” His stiff shoulders shrugged. “I’m not looking to meet someone.”
“Oh.” A heavy weight settled in her chest. Although her heart still broke when she thought of Brett, she knew that someday she’d be ready for romance. Something in Niall’s tone, however, sounded bleak and definite, as if he didn’t think he’d ever love anyone. Or worse, that anyone would ever love him.
In a breathless second, she almost asked him why he’d never consider love. She felt the question rising in her chest, drew in air then, hesitated. What could she say that wouldn’t sound too personal? Take things to an intimate level that might endanger their fragile partnership? “Well, then, I think we should plan some market testing. I’ll conduct some studies with people of various age groups and have the data back to you in a few days.”
Chairman Meow arched his slim body before crouching for a leap that landed him on Niall’s lap.
Niall studied the cat, then, with a shrug, ran his large hand over its ears, one of which was permanently bent at the tip. “Have you thought of promotional events? Places? People?”
“You met some of them.” His closeness was sweet and sharp, making it hard to focus. Her fingers slid along the length of the tail whipping between them as she gathered her scattered thoughts. “The assisted-living facility residents.”
He whistled, looking impressed. “I wasn’t expecting that, but it’d work.” An eyebrow arched. “Mr. Jennson would be an interesting target audience.”
She bit back a smile. “Think of all of those singles living together, yet many having never dated more than one or two people in their lives. We could help them, and they could help us.”
Niall nodded thoughtfully. “I like that. Their Must Traits data will help us finalize the list. Once we have a prototype created, let’s plan an event there, too.”
Excitement bubbled. “Yes.” She scratched the item off her to-do list. They’d made their first business decision together. It felt good. A step in the right direction for them. For High Dive Enterprises.
“Now, back to streamlining your Must Traits list.”
His words made her heart sink. She’d wanted them to make joint decisions, but when it came to her list...? Her gaze lingered on his animated expression as he began to argue his case. At least she had a partner. She needed to give him a chance.
“So you see how the animal questions could be condensed to ‘Must love dogs’ and ‘Must love cats,’” Niall said. “If they answer yes to those, the rest is a given.”
She pulled her brownie away from a sniffing Chairman Meow. “I suppose,” she admitted. He had a valid point. “But I don’t see how anyone can misconstrue number one.”
“‘Must be open’? That’s confusing. Open to what? BASE jumping? Learning to cook Thai food? Mimes?” Niall flinched when the cat climbed up his chest and wrapped itself around his shoulders and neck. “And I think Chairman Meow is part boa constrictor.”
She leaned forward. “Let me help.” She pried the cat’s tail loose only to watch it encircle Niall’s neck again. “I think you’re going to have to accept your slow and inevitable death.”
“Smothered by a cat.” He blew some fur covering his mouth. “That’d be an interesting obituary. Anyway, back to number one.”
“You’re taking that trait too literally. I mean open as in emotionally, ready to accept and give love, to express how they feel. Not hide things.” She bundled her hair into a loose bun, feeling warm under his scrutiny.
“That wouldn’t translate well into a program like this.” When he shook his head, his hair swished across his brow. “It’s too vague. Concrete traits work best.”
“You’ll need to figure out how to make it work. It stays.” She folded her hands on her lap and met his eyes. There was compromising and there was giving up her entire vision. She wouldn’t do the latter.
“It’s hard for you to get rid of it, but—”
“Why is this hard for me?” She frowned, her temperature rising. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand how to translate open.”
“I understand that it won’t work.”
She ground her teeth. Before she could think, she blurted, “Niall, you’ve closed yourself off from people and even yourself. And I get it, given everything you’ve gone through. But for some people, not being open is a deal breaker. It is for me.”
Niall pulled the cat from his neck and placed it on the floor, his expression stunned. For a second she caught a glimpse of his dark brown eyes. Then he glanced away, shifting restlessly. In the awkward silence, her cell phone rang, Beth’s image appearing on her screen. She brought it to her ear.
“Oh, thank God. Can you come over right away?” Beth’s voice sounded high and panicked, and Kayleigh’s pulse leaped. “Samuel and Josh got in a shoving match while I was changing one of the kid’s diapers. Long story short, Samuel fell and hit his head, and now I think he has a concussion. Only I can’t take him to the hospital because I have the children I babysit here, and Josh has locked himself in his room.”
Kayleigh was already on her feet. “I’ll be right there.” She clicked off her phone. “We’ll have to finish this another time. Beth has an emergency.”
To her surprise, Niall followed her to the door after he placed the cat back out on his fire escape and shut the window.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He grabbed his keys from a ring by the door. “Coming with you.”
She waved him away. He’d reacted so strongly to Chris’s picture. How would he handle an apartment full of them? “I’ve got this. You don’t have to put yourself out.”
He pulled open the door, his face serious. “Maybe I need to, Kay.”
CHAPTER TEN
“OH, THANK GOODNESS, you’re here,” Niall heard Beth say when her Park Slope apartment door swung open. She gestured for them to enter, her eyes widening as he passed her in the narrow entranceway.
Inside, the air smelled of burned toast while cartoon voices floated down a short hall that led to a large, bright living room. Niall peered at a few children jostling each other at a plastic carpenter’s workbench while others banged out discordant notes on musical instruments or zoomed on miniature tricycles.