Page 117 of Ember Rising

“I’ve seen the name Corvis in paperwork.” She looks at the screen of her device again, frowning.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just ... work.” She types out a response.

“You must get messages all the time.”

She smiles. “Sometimes. My boss doesn’t make me work nights and weekends unless it’s an emergency.”

I pinch my brows together. “That’s the way it should be. I work every day most of the time. I’m thinking of starting my own company, and I’ll take a day off every week if I do.” I adjust the brim of my hat and smile at her. “But enough boring work talk. You don’t want to listen to me nerding out over layers of security.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

She seems like a nice person. I ignore the stab of guilt I feel over manipulating her.

“You sure?” I ask.

Her communication device buzzes inside her purse and she reaches for it. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Those devices you guys use remind me of the olden days when we had cell phones.”

“Ha. I actually don’t miss social media even a little bit.”

She reads the message on her device and types one back, returning it to her bag. This time, she zips the bag up.

“My friend can’t make it,” she says, taking another sip of her drink.

“Is this where I should say I’m sorry to hear that?”

She scoffs and smiles. “Come on. Guys who look like you don’t go for someone like me.”

Her comment hits me hard.

The ILF keeps her under surveillance around the clock because of her close access to my father, and Hiro briefed me on her. She’s a hard worker. Has three cats and two dogs because she can’t say no when an animal needs a home. Hasn’t had a date in the four years she’s been working for the Whitman administration.

“Don’t say that. You’re beautiful and smart.”

She gives me a quick, hopeful look. “Thank you.”

I’m surprised when she downs the rest of the drink, raising her hand slightly to get the bartender’s attention and ask for another one.

“So, let’s hear more about these security layers,” she says lightly.

I scoff. “My work?”

“Yeah.”

I’m supposed to lay the groundwork here. Tell her I’m trying to come up with a smaller signet decryption device than anything currently in use. Then drop the subject and focus entirely on her, with the goal of her inviting me back to her place.

Abby assured me that in the afterglow of what she called “at least slightly above average” sex with me, Rebecca will tell me about the smallest signets she’s seen and try to help me come up with something new.

I can’t fucking do it, though. Back on the island, I never considered anyone’s feelings. I left Virginia to do the hard work of leading while I fucked my way through our female population. If women caught feelings, I shrugged it off. If they fought over me, I laughed and, if I’m being honest—enjoyed it.

I was an asshole. But watching a volcano unleash its wrath on my camp was a catalyst for me. I tried my best to rescue people, but the volcano was so fucking fast and deadly. My hands and arms blistered, but I was one of the lucky ones. I survived.

Then Briar gave me grace I didn’t deserve. I only asked her to save my surviving camp members, which was a big ask. By then, I’d conceded defeat and planned to go lie down in the jungle somewhere and never get back up. She believed in me, though.

I promised myself I’d never let her regret it. If she could see me now, luring this woman in so I can use her and then disappear, she’d tell me there has to be another way. A better one.