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I ignored her.

“Cass, we know that you know he’s no slouch in the bedroom.” Tambi stabbed up some food.

“And you know that how?”

“By the way you’re walking, but maybe those skills don’t translate outside of the sheets,” Tambi said. “Is he planning on making any dickhead moves?”

“No. I don’t know! Do we have to talk about this?”

“Is Tambi wrong about Rennick having bedroom skills?” Doc asked.

Monica pointed her fork at me. “She’s not wrong.”

“Focus on anything other than my love life.” I gestured at the information Tambi had set up.

“We’re focused on ensuring you get properly serviced.” Doc topped up my glass without being asked. “And you’re the one who can’t say his name without squirming in your seat.”

“He doesn’t affect me. It’s just... we’re having a good time. No strings. Tambi doesn’t like it messy with clients, so I’m keeping it clean.”

“Doubtful. And we all know Tambi loves it messy when she finds the right guy to get messy with.” Doc cackled a laugh at the sour look on Tambi’s face.

“All I’m saying is, Rennick could be a wild card we don’t have time or desire to manage,” Tambi said.

“Cass desires the fuck out of him,” Monica said.

A bread roll pinged off her head.

While she was distracted in retaliating against Tambi, I picked up a clean plate and loaded it with food, adding a portion of the tuna, some of the herbed grain salad Doc had ordered in, and two slices of sourdough bread.

“I’m taking Rennick a plate,” I said. “He’s been on the bridge running encrypted files for hours.”

Monica leaned back and waggled her eyebrows. “You dessert?”

If my hands were free, she’d have gotten the bird.

“Tell him we said hi,” Doc called out.

“Go fuck yourself,” I muttered.

“Heard that! And I’ll leave that to the next hottie who blows through this place looking for a fun time.”

I left them to their bantering and cut through the yard toward the dock. The evening air was warm, carrying the hum of the marina’s charging stations and the low chime of a luxury spacecraft’s proximity alert as it docked.

The Hollow Chorus sat quiet, her running lights steady. But the gangway was sealed, and there was no movement from the bridge viewports.

I glanced at my comm. Nothing from Rennick since our session this afternoon.

Where’d he go?

I turned to scan the dock and caught movement at the far end. Rennick’s silhouette was unmistakable. The height, the build, the way he moved without adjusting his stride because people adjusted theirs.

I set the plate on the gangway railing and followed. I wasn’t a jealous, stalkery type, but I was curious about where he’d be going when his ship needed him.

Eden Shore’s north quarter was where the money lived. The district got rebuilt after alien credits and taste filtered through Earth. It seemed aliens liked comfort and luxury, too. The promenade narrowed into a boulevard lined with biometric-keyed storefronts, their displays shifting to match the species profile of whoever walked past. I got a flash of Earth-luxury clothing. Rennick got symbols I couldn’t read in Kelvane language.

The architecture changed within two blocks, giving way to composite facades, smooth as poured cream, with edges that glowed faint blue where the building’s climate system breathed. The lighting was embedded in the walkway, responsive, dimming behind me and brightening ahead as I moved.

Rennick didn’t look back as I followed, but I kept a half-block distance and let the evening foot traffic cover me. He turned off the boulevard and crossed a plaza anchored by a water feature that moved against gravity, sheets of liquid climbing a black stone column and dissolving at the top into a mist that smelled like cedar.