Page 21 of Bastard In A Suit, Vol. 3

Chapter 12

The crowded auditoriumpractically buzzes with energy. I run my hands along the sides of a new calf-length pencil skirt to dry my sweaty palms, and take my seat at the head of the panel. My colleagues smile at me, and I smile back.

I am so in my element.

My gaze flits through the crowd, scanning for people I know. A couple of my college buddies give me a small wave. One of my old professors winks. A bank of reporters from newspaper and business magazines makes up the first row. I sit taller, extending my torso and neck to give off the impression of confidence.

Mostly, it’s true.

I try to convince myself the nerves in my stomach are normal, a result of being asked to speak in front of such a distinguished crowd. But that’s only part of it.

I’ve yet to sign my contract with FuturePlay, and my career seems to hang by the thin thread of indecision.

Alan Prentiss catches my eye from the second row and he gives me a thumbs-up. Jesus, why didn’t I realize he’d be here. The thought of performing in front of what could be my new boss ratchets up my pulse.

The moderator takes to the podium and introduces the panel. I’ve supplied my bio, refusing to affiliate myself with any company, but when it’s read aloud, I can’t explain the sense of loss that practically suffocates me.

I answer the first question from the crowd easily.

“Cost is always going to be a factor when it comes to developing new technology,” I say. My thoughts go to the research that went into developing the MicroTracker. Despite everything, our processes were sound, our innovation…innovative. “There are ways to mitigate those costs, but truly, it’s very difficult to do anything alone. Teamwork is important.”

I pass my microphone on to the next panelist, who answers with similar advice, and then launches into the device he and his partner have created, some kind of earpiece that enhances hearing capacity without turning to traditional methods. Interesting, but expensive, and the average consumer won’t be able to afford it.

When he finishes speaking, I ask for the microphone back. “Forgive me, Ted,” I say, directing my question to him. “But, who is your target audience for the product?”

His face pales a little and he blinks. He leans toward the microphone and says, “Well, everyone, really. But specifically, those who have acute hearing problems.”

I resist grilling him further, aware I’ve already hogged a good chunk of the time. It strikes me that my line of questioning is reminiscent of Duke’s, and pride seeps in among the other emotions churning to the surface.

My eyes flit to the crowd and lock on a familiar form. Every cell in my body screams in protest. It can’t be. It just can’t. But of course it is. What the hell is he doing here?

I try to look away but I’m trapped under Duke Kingston’s stare. Just as I find my strength to look away, he gives me a nod. The motion, however subtle, creates a flutter in my stomach.

The moderator surveys the audience for another question.

Duke raises his hand, and I freeze. Shit.

“Mr. Kingston,” the moderator says. “What an honor to have you in the audience today. Do you have a question for our panelists?”

Duke stands and every bit of moisture evaporates from my mouth. My throat swells up with anticipation and fear. What could he possibly need to know that his team doesn’t already have Intel on?

He buttons the front of his jacket—it’s charcoal, my favorite in his collection—and clears his throat. “Yes, I have a question for Miss. Yorke.”

Goosebumps form on my skin.

Someone from the floor hands him a microphone. Suddenly, it’s as though the walls are closing in around me. The air is heavy, alive with electricity that seems to crackle between us. I feel the weight of a thousand eyes on me.

“Miss Yorke,” Duke says. And damn if the sound of his voice doesn’t turn my insides out. “When it comes to innovation, what is a company’s responsibility when it comes to public safety?”

My heart starts free falling. The question is an obvious dig. I scan his face for the telltale twinkle of amusement, but he looks almost…sincere. “Safety should always be of upmost importance to the company,” I say, steadying my voice. “However, certain controls must be put in place to ensure that safety remains uncompromised and innovation can continue.”

There’s a murmur from the crowd.

Duke nods, as if in agreement and my heartbeat picks up speed.

“Thank you,” he says.

I hesitate before handing back the microphone. “Fear is inevitable,” I say. My eyes narrow in on him as I work to steady my voice. “It shouldn’t impede innovation. Instead, it should inspire and motivate change for the greater good. We have a responsibility not just to protect the public from our technology but to protect the public with our technology.”