Page 13 of Embrace Me Forever

“All right, Georgia-May.” Her name rolls off my tongue like a sweet treat, though I’m not here for a taste.

As we step into the core of Hartley Marine, her eyes widen in amazement, as if she can’t quite believe she’s inside a corporate headquarters.

Slowing the pace, I let her take her time to absorb her surroundings. Nobody is ever unimpressed with our HQ, but this guest? Her eyes spark with an innocence I haven’t seen in anyone else. She explores the space with curiosity and awe, her steps light and almost hesitant. It’s as if she has just landed on the moon, and every detail is a new discovery for her.

“It looks like an oasis,” she says, scanning the display of greenery, a variety of exotic plants and flowers catching her attention.

Like that, who could believe she harbors any malice?

For the first time, I wish I were wrong. That I had the wrong Georgia-May Williams in my investigation, or that she had a plausible explanation for her peculiar records and life story—or the lack of it.

Throughout my investigation, the only images I uncovered were her passport and driver’s license photos, both resembling mugshots more than anything else. She exists virtually nowhere online. Her visibility is limited to the scientific papers she authored as a math lecturer. It’s as if this person is one-dimensional, yet being around her, she feels anything but.

When her name first landed on my lap, I pictured someone older, maybe a bit geeky. It’s hard to reconcile the image of a brilliant programmer and mathematician with this young,stunning woman walking beside me. Oh, the biases we carry! It turns out I’m not immune to them either. But still, I’m certain about the accuracy of my work. And God, I hate it when I have to be the bearer of bad news to Rob and Clay.

Georgia-May’s eyes stop at the fishpond nestled at the center. “It’s unbelievable!”

“Mr. Hartley—Rob, the older one—he loves koi.”

“For good luck?” she asks.

“I guess so, and it works, doesn’t it?” I quip.

She chuckles, giving me a gaze that almost makes me blurt out, ‘Who the hell are you?’

This woman stands out in any crowd without even trying. Her brunette hair, styled into a high bun, frames her face with an effortless elegance. After having interacted with her, by now, I should have checked off the red flags I identified in my investigation. Cues in her body language, evasive maneuvers, a too-practiced calm, probing questions, and responses ripe for analysis.

Yet the malevolence I anticipated remains elusive. Her nervousness is unmistakable, and her efforts to suppress it are glaringly apparent. There is no pretense involved. In all other aspects, she appears to be merely herself. Could she be deceiving through her demeanor so effectively that even I am unable to perceive it?

As if sensing my analytical gaze, she turns her wide eyes toward me. Fuck! Is it a defensive reflex or an aggressive challenge? I cannot tell. I manage only a brief moment of contact with those perilous eyes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, yet what I discern in hers unnerves me. Not because of any connection to Hartley Marine but because, alarmingly, I almost see myself in it, and I am reluctant to confront what else might be revealed.

Kylie, Rob’s assistant, greets us with her characteristic Irish charm, providing a timely diversion.

“Welcome, Ms. Williams! Mr. Hartley and Mr. Hartley will join us soon. A mouthful, I know. I still haven’t figured out how to tell our guests which brother is which when both are present.”

Georgia-May’s smile blooms effortlessly, the famed Kylie effect in full display. That same charm washes over me, offering a momentary reprieve from the intricate web my enigmatic assignment has spun around me.

“If you need anything, just holler,” Kylie offers with a turn. “Though Blake might assist. He’s the strong, silent type, after all.”

Georgia-May laughs, a genuine reaction rather than the forced politeness I expected. She turns back to me, searching for something more than reassurance.

I offer her a blink of confidence, finding myself inexplicably hoping for her success. I always seek the clarity of black and white, and the facts at hand are just that, but not in a way I’m accustomed to. My paperwork paints a grim picture, yet she casts a disarming white glow.

As Kylie and Georgia-May make their way into the conference room, I slip into the media room, a space where I can observe the upcoming meeting. From here, I have a clear view of the room via a camera. I watch as Georgia-May meets with Rob, Clayton, their engineer Rocky, and head of IT, Thomas.

Georgia-May begins her presentation with confidence, detailing the Quantum-Enhanced Oceanic Pathfinding Algorithm—or QEOPA, as she refers to it. To me, it sounds like the name of an exotic fish species from the depths of the Pacific. My role isn’t to grasp the technicalities. The experts in the room are well-equipped for that. But the more I try to unravel her intentions, the more I’m taken by her. She’s a vision that seemsto pause time, as if embodying the symmetry of a mathematical equation beyond my grasp.

She continues, “QEOPA is a state-of-the-art system designed to revolutionize marine navigation. For luxury yachts, it offers specialized features that enhance comfort, safety, and overall experience.”

Clayton interrupts, “What makes QEOPA any different from the existing systems? We’ve seen dozens of supposed breakthroughs that didn’t deliver.” Looks like the younger Hartley is trying on the ‘bad cop’ hat in my absence.

But Georgia-May doesn’t miss a beat. “Well, unlike Pi, QEOPA won’t go on forever without getting to the point,” she quips, eliciting a round of laughter from the room. Even I find myself chuckling along.

She continues. “QEOPA leverages quantum computing to process navigational data at unprecedented speeds. This means more accurate predictions and adjustments in real-time, significantly reducing the risk of human error, and it’s stabler than the current, more common GPS version.”

They delve deeper into the codes and calculations, discussing aspects such as oceanic condition analysis and satellite imagery. She acknowledges that the system is still in its prototype phase.

“I’m developing a larger-scale version, customizable for different types and sizes of fleets,” she explains, “I’m sure I’ll be able to meet Hartley Marine’s requirements should you decide to proceed.”

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