Page 86 of The Austen Escape
I lingered on that thought. Nathan. The piano. Braithwaite House. Dancing. As I passed, I wondered if Lucas might let me steal that last one.
I rapped my knuckles on Craig’s office door. Other than the fully enclosed conference rooms lining two of the outer walls, his office was the only real room in our company.
“Come in.”
I opened the door and paused, as I always did, to take in his view. Craig’s outer wall was full glass and looked out over a fountain and the complex’s largest man-made puddle. That wasn’t terribly interesting. But on sunny days, especially if there was a breeze like today, sunlight refracted off the droplets of water the fountain shot into the air. The droplets came alive with the full light spectrum. Today it was glorious.
I looked back to Craig. His desk faced away from the wall. I wondered if he ever saw the view.
Eyes fixed on his computer, he started talking before I’d taken a step.
“Mary. Good. You’re here. Shut the door and come on in. I’m running late, of course, but I heard Dottie got you a cake. She’s a wonder with short notice.”
“Yes.”
“That’s what this is. Very short notice.”
“Yes.” I sat down.
He pulled his eyes away from his screen and fixed them on me. We called him the Tasmanian Devil, after the old Road Runner cartoon. He moved that fast and often simply spun in circles—his staying power never keeping up with his ideas. But when he stopped moving, he was disconcertingly calm. Like now.
“You heard somehow, didn’t you?”
“Nothing firm, but Karen isn’t a fan of mine.” I hedged. I was not going to tell him about Nathan and England, and I couldn’t define what I actually did know anyway.
“It’s all gone sideways, so if you’re leaving—”
“It’s time to move on.”
“Is it?” Craig shot straight. He looked upset he’d missed the memo.
“I’ll be at MedCore for the final interview Wednesday, but I’m happy to fill out the standard two weeks. I know we’re pushing for a strong fourth quarter.” The cool laptop, now sitting on my lap, reminded me. “Oh... Benson solved the Golightly heating issue and built specs for a prototype if you want to pursue it.”
“Benson?”
“I sent him all my data last week.” I opened the computer and walked around Craig’s desk. “If you look here—”
Craig clamped a hand on my upper arm to silence me. He was a brilliant physicist, engineer, and innovator. He didn’t need me interrupting or interpreting. He flipped through the schematics faster than Benson had.
“It’s so sleek. Are these numbers right? Is it this compact? This rivals Microsoft’s Holo. I had no idea...” His voice drifted away as he became absorbed.
Someone tapped on his door. He pointed to it without looking up.
“Come in,” I called.
He glanced up, as if surprised the words didn’t sound like his voice.
Karen entered.
He flicked his hand to me, eyes back on the computer. “Karen asked to join us, and as you report to her, I agreed it was appropriate. Do you mind?”
Karen’s level stare dared me to protest.
“Not at all.”
“We’ve got Golightly.” Craig flapped his hand to her now. “Come... Come... You’ve got to see this.”
Karen walked around Craig’s desk on the opposite side and leaned in. He was scrolling so fast I could hardly keep up, and I knew what we were looking at. One glance at Karen and I could tell she was completely lost.
