by Karen Rock
“Genesis Software Innovations.”
Niall shifted beside her as she struggled to hide her dismay. Why was her old company being mentioned in their meeting? A feeling of unease took hold, and she thought about the last name. Cantwell, she mused... Was it someone she knew? The name had sounded familiar when they’d been ushered into the leader’s conference room.
And then it hit her.
Stacey. Stacey Cantwell. An IT programmer. Could she be working on the rip-off version of her app? Had Stacey heard about her dramatic exit from the company? What exactly had Stacey told her father-in-law? Kayleigh’s breath hitched.
“I recently left GSI to develop my own app. As I hope you agree, this idea shows great market potential.”
Mr. Cantwell smiled, revealing overlapping front teeth. His eyes bulged from beneath thick eyebrows, his pointed chin making him resemble a badger.
“Yes, it does. In fact, when I received your initial inquiry and packet of information, I looked forward to this meeting and what could be a promising business venture for us.”
Her fingers reflexively tightened around themselves. Had they done it? Secured financing and saved their start-up?
“Would you like to begin with a discussion of the itemized list of costs?” Hope crept into her voice, raising it half an octave.
Mr. Cantwell’s smile faded around the edges. “There’s no need.”
“So our estimates are in line with your cost calculations,” Niall spoke up. The tense way he held his mouth told her he was still feeling cautious given these mixed signals.
“You misunderstand me. There’s no need to go over your financing requirements, as ForwardTech will not be funding you.”
Kayleigh’s hope fell from some place in her chest and landed around her feet, shattering like a glass jar tipped from a high shelf. She mentally scratched off “meet with ForwardTech” from today’s to-do list, then pictured ripping the paper to shreds.
“And why is that, Mr. Cantwell? We appreciate your honest feedback, of course,” she forced herself to say, keeping the disappointment out of her voice. There’d been enough meetings in which she’d witnessed winds firmly blowing in one direction only to see them shift at the last minute. It might not be too late to turn this around. Perhaps she could change his mind.
His blunt fingernails drummed on the long mahogany table. “Yes. Honesty. That is key. Tell me, did you conceive of this app while working for GSI?”
The blunt force of his words struck like a blow, and she struggled to speak. So Stacey had been working on Tingle. Had mentioned it to him. And now ForwardTech’s CEO saw her as an intellectual-property thief.
“If you are suggesting that I stole this idea from my employer, the answer is no,” she said coolly, despite the heat creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.
“Mr. Cantwell,” Niall said firmly. “With all due respect, GSI maliciously appropriated our app idea from a former employee, who now works for us. She’d mistakenly brought in the program to try it out on GSI’s more advanced operating systems, and it was discovered when they did a backup.”
“Malicious? That seems a rather strong word for the number one app-producing company in the world.” Mr. Cantwell sniffed as if smelling their guilt. “Why would GSI need to take another idea when they have an entire department devoted to creating apps? They’ve won a Shorty for Best App the past six years in a row.” When Mr. Cantwell shook his head, the skin beneath his chin wobbled.
Niall’s chair scraped back and he bolted to his feet. “Ms. Renshaw was the genesis for those award-winning ideas while working for GSI. When she left, she took her talent, creativity and progressive ideas with her. Any idea linked to her would be very attractive to GSI.”
Despite the cocktail of disappointment and fury mixing in her gut, she felt a jolt of pleasure at Niall’s compliments.
“I understand that Ms. Renshaw was a valued employee, but it stretches credibility that a company with GSI’s reputation would act unprofessionally.” Mr. Cantwell readjusted gold cuff links, his eyes narrow with suspicion.
“My boss was also my fiancé.” She stood beside Niall and peered down at the small balding patch at the back of Mr. Cantwell’s head.
Confusion flickered in his eyes, along with disapproval. “I see. So this is a personal matter.”
Kayleigh nodded, a jerky, tight movement, feeling this chance slipping away with every moment that passed, carrying her hopes and dreams with it. Capitalists were risk adverse. Even a progressive company like ForwardTech Ventures wouldn’t involve themselves in a squabble with the potential for lawsuits.
“Then I wish you well. Both of you.” Mr. Cantwell slid their folders back to them; Niall snatched them up and stuffed them in his briefcase, his shoulders stiff. “But I’m afraid our interests are not compatible.” He gave a short laugh that neither of them returned. “Excuse the play on words.”
She didn’t. In fact, her temper was as hot as a bar of molten iron. It seared her as she accepted his perfunctory handshake, then followed Niall to the elevator. It burned her as she and Niall stood, side by side, wordless, as the glass elevator delivered them to the lobby. It smoldered as she stalked outside, shoving through the gold-metal–framed doors and onto the crowded street. Professionals filled the sidewalk, eating and drinking as they conducted lunch-hour business on their cell phones.
When she spotted the pretzel vendor, she froze. It was the same one she and Gianna had eaten at every day when they’d worked at GSI. An angry sound escaped her. She’d chased after independence but had tasted defeat instead. Unlike the men and women easily navigating these streets, she felt flattened. She should never have left the shallow end of the pool. She wasn’t a risk taker, and this venture had been a horrible mistake with serious consequences.
“Are you hungry?” Niall’s deep voice behind her startled her.
“No. I—I—I want to—” She turned in a slow circle, taking in a large bronze bull sculpture that seemed ready to charge but was really going nowhere. She could relate. What did she want? Life didn’t give you do overs. There was no rewind button. She was out of options.
A firm hand settled on her back, and Niall led her to a crosswalk. She waited numbly for the red-lit walk signal to turn green, then followed him through the gated entranceway to Bowling Green park, a large fountain surrounded by a circle of scarlet petunias at its center. Tall trees shaded the fenced, wrought iron perimeter lined with simple wooden benches. They were packed with tourists, bankers and college students taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi. This innocuous space, the oldest of the city’s parks, was where much of the world’s business was conducted. An epicenter. And she realized, with a sinking heart, that she was wrong to ever think she’d be a part of it.
At the fountain area, they spotted an empty bench. A man slept on the ground beside the fountain. Newspapers were spread neatly beneath him, a dog curled across his head, one eye opening as they approached.
“I’m getting you something to drink. Don’t move.” Niall let go and backed up, his eyes on her until she nodded. She watched him turn on his heel and head back to the street, her gut sour, her thoughts thick and sluggish.
Losing Brett hadn’t been nearly this painful. The demise of High Dive Enterprises meant so many endings. The end of her ability to help Chris’s family, the end of her chance to prove that she was a doer, not just an ideas person, and the end of spending time with Niall. Somehow, that last thought hurt most of all.
She dropped her head in her hands and listened to the water as it shot into the sky before falling to earth. Just like her, it could only reach so high. Without Mesh, there was no Niall. He’d planned to sell his shares and go back to his solitary life when the app was done, and now he’d only leave sooner. Without him, her future felt bleak and empty, a shadow-filled place in sepia tones.
He
r feet slid out of the tight heels she now regretted wearing. She might as well have worn flip-flops for all the good it would have done her with Mr. Cantwell. She wished he’d simply called off the meeting, but she supposed he’d wanted to hear her out before turning her down.
She reached up and untied her confining bun, letting the waves tumble in front of her face.
“Here’s some coffee.”
A to-go cup appeared in her line of vision. She studied Niall’s concerned face and could have cried. Was this the last time she’d see him? With no way to move forward with their business, there was a good chance that he’d slink back to his man cave and never contact her again.
“Thanks.” She took the cup and set it beside her, staring listlessly at a singer strumming his guitar beneath a tree, a small crowd gathered in a half circle around him.
On the street beyond the black wrought iron fence, cabs whizzed past, buses rumbled by and pedestrians breezed along, all hurrying to some important destination. Or at least it seemed that way. But where could she go? Brett had outmaneuvered her. If Stacey Cantwell was talking about her, then others were, as well. Even if she could drum up more options, there was a good chance other investors would hear of the controversy and turn her down. Even if Brett didn’t beat them to the patent, he’d defeated her anyway.
She ground her teeth and must have made a noise because suddenly Niall scooted closer.
“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, his voice gentle, as though speaking to a spooked three-year-old. She was sick of men talking down to her—Brett, Major Carlton and now Mr. Cantwell. Sick of her accomplishments overlooked and her dreams going nowhere. Suddenly, all of her fury turned on Niall.
“No. It’s not going to be okay.” Her loud voice made the musician stop playing and his fans glance her way. “It’s over.”
Niall frowned and opened a packet of sweetener before handing it to her. “There are hundreds of investment firms. We’ll find someone else.”
She put down her coffee and ignored the artificial sugar. “When, Niall? How soon? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m just about out of money and have a family to help out. Did you know I supplement Beth’s expenses?”
To her surprise, he nodded. Had Josh said something? Not that it mattered. “I know you have a lot of responsibilities, and they’ll get taken care of. Don’t worry.” He laid a hand on her arm, and she shook it off, not wanting his understanding. She needed to rage and wished he’d be furious with her. His attitude set her teeth on edge. He was just like Brett. Like her parents. Thinking he knew best.
“You don’t even know what responsibilities are,” she spat, and continued despite his surprised flinch and the sense that she was acting irrationally. But this overdue rant could not be stopped, regardless of who stood in its path. “When have you ever worried about anyone other than yourself?”
He opened his mouth then closed it, his face paling beneath the color it’d recently acquired from their outings.
“Exactly,” she continued, needing to vent. “You put yourself first, and who cares about the consequences.”
“I do care,” he said quietly, his eyes large. “I don’t want to see this fail.”
She flung herself off the bench, unable to be near him in her vortex of conflicting emotions.
“Why do you care? You can have everything back the way you want it. No more leaving the apartment, talking to people, playing by other people’s rules. And no more putting up with me. This is good news for you, isn’t it? You’re off the hook.”
He squinted up at her in the bright sunshine.
“That’s not what I want.”
“Right.” She snorted derisively, then shouldered her bag, ready to get this painful parting over with.
Niall stood and held out a hand she ignored. “You’re wrong.”
She squared her chin and glowered. “Then, what do you want?”
His fingers twined with hers. “You.”
His simple answer ignited the fireworks exploding in her head. She simply couldn’t take it in. Wasn’t able to process what he meant. Did he want her as a friend, or more? Her feelings were much too strong to hear him say he wanted them to stay “pals.” When they’d reunited, she’d wanted his friendship. Now it wasn’t nearly enough.
“Don’t say that. Don’t. Ever.” She backed away and nearly tripped over the homeless dog’s leash. Niall’s stricken face stayed with her after she whirled and sprinted for the street, searching for the subway stop that would take her away from here, away from it all. Though she knew there was no escaping her worn-out heart.
* * *
NIALL MOVED AUTOMATICALLY through one of his old routines at the dojang, working through the pain of Kayleigh’s rejection. Why had he said anything? He’d known she only saw him as a friend and business partner. And with his involvement in her brother’s death, he didn’t deserve her either. Didn’t deserve love, period. Yet, like a fool, he’d told her he wanted her. What had he expected? That she’d jump into his arms and tell him that she wanted to be with him, too?
His foot lashed into the air before he pivoted, dropped to his knees and punched. He stood, then sank into a lunge. He’d vowed to help her, not fall for her. Yet he’d done it anyway. She was beautiful, strong, smart and funny, yet it was at her vulnerable moments that he wanted to carry her away and never let her go. Perhaps that was what had tripped him into saying how he felt. Seeing her so hurt had triggered his instincts to take away her pain. But he should have known that confessing his feelings would only complicate things, not make her feel better.
He sank into a sitting stance, and his hands punched the air at blistering speed, loosening up tight shoulders and upper-back muscles. When he rose on his artificial foot’s tiptoes and held the position for three minutes, he marveled. Good had come from this time spent with Kayleigh, however.
Because of her, he’d come back to the world, or it had returned to him. Although he still felt terrible about what had happened to Chris, somewhere along the line he’d stopped wishing he’d died, too. And he couldn’t deny that Kayleigh was the reason he was glad to be alive. He thought of her every night before he went to bed, imagining her beside him, talking about their company, their day, their tomorrows...together. Every morning he looked forward to seeing her beautiful face.
He executed a quick succession of moves, then bent his prosthetic leg back at a forty-five degree angle, holding the L stance until he was sure of his stability before kicking again. Ironic that now that she’d helped him regain control of his life and himself, Kayleigh was slipping away. He unclenched his jaw and forced himself to relax as he alternated between still, strength-training positions and fighter moves.
He needed to focus on technique if he was to regain Master Jung’s approval to work with students again. It wasn’t until he’d brought Josh, and begun tutoring him this week, that he’d realized how much he missed it. The kids had given him much more than he’d ever given them. Would they accept a one-legged teacher? Would Master Jung approve once he saw him in action?
An hour later he stepped out of the locker room, refreshed from his shower, his mind still in turmoil. Today had been full of failures—their rejection at ForwardTech and, even worse, Kayleigh’s disgust at his confession. He wouldn’t be surprised if she ended the company and her time with him. His body ached at the thought of a life without her. But hadn’t that always been the reality? Eventually, she would find out that he’d caused Chris’s death. Whatever they started was doomed to fail.
“Master Walsh. Welcome.”
Niall pulled the towel away from his dripping hair and returned Master Jung’s smile. “Hello, Master Jung. It’s nice to be back.” Under other circumstances, when he hadn’t just had his heart handed to him, it would have been.
Master Jung gestured toward the front of the dojang. “Wil
l you join me for a moment in my office?”
Niall hid his disappointment. He’d planned to call Kayleigh now that he’d cooled off. See where things stood.
Master Jung’s compact form disappeared inside his office, and Niall followed, sitting in the chair that he always felt two times too big for.
“I’ve worked out today, Master Jung, and in a few weeks, I may be ready to be tested.”
Master Jung waved graceful hands. Niall knew how much brute strength lay in them. “No need.”
“Sir?” Niall blinked in surprise. Had Master Jung changed his mind about having an amputee for a leader?
“I watched you earlier.”
“Oh.” Niall mentally ran over his performance, critiquing it. Master Jung’s standards were high, and he demanded perfection. And if there was one thing Niall was not, it was perfect. A wave of disappointment rolled through him. He’d been looking forward to working with the kids again, but he had to abide by Master Jung’s rules.
Master Jung reached behind him and handed Niall a set of white robes and a black belt. “You’ll be needing these when you teach next week. Will Mondays and Wednesdays at 4:00 p.m. be acceptable?”
His mouth opened and closed, words dying on his tongue. Overwhelmed, he ran the familiar belt through his fingers, thankful for this second chance.
“I didn’t think I was ready.”
“You’re ready to teach.” Master Jung nodded and his eyes gleamed. “Ready to learn, too. That’s more important.”
“Yes. I’ve lost flexibility, and my balance is off. But I hope with time I can—”
“No.” Master Jung’s hand sliced the air and came down flat on the desk. “Like young Josh, you have much Han, yes? Since you returned from the war.”
Niall sat back in the chair as though the words had pushed him. Master Jung’s perception never ceased to amaze him.
“Yes.” He met the leader’s eyes and held himself tight. There was no sense in hiding what the man would see anyway.