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A big part of me still wishes I’d gone with my gut and burned the whole thing to the ground.

But to Dare, I know being able to live on the family estate means something. He seemed surprised when I didn’t want to fight him over the deed after dad died. But I just sold him my half at a steal. I used the money to pay for Chloe’s tuition and came over here as little as possible.

Darren proposed meeting Miranda here, though, and I knew there was no reasonable excuse to get out of it. And having my thoughts on her all afternoon has kept me from getting stuck in my usual brooding funk that being here brings on.

“So, Miranda,” Darren says once we’re all seated, “tell me everything about yourself. Then I promise I’ll share all the embarrassing childhood stories I have on Dylan.”

My chest loosens as I relax, watching the two of them interact. Miranda is lovely as she talks about Ohio and the small town where she grew up, and I only have to threaten Darren with disownment a couple times as he relates some of the more embarrassing mishaps of my early years.

“No way.” Miranda’s sparkling eyes come my direction. “Where’d you get the cow?”

“Don’t believe anything he tells you. He was the one who put the cow in the Principal’s office on the last day of my senior year. He just blamed it on me.”

Miranda’s head swings back to Darren. “Is that true?”

He shrugs and then smiles slyly. “I plead the fifth.”

The food is delicious and Darren keeps conversation flowing. It’s always been his talent, far more than mine. In any social situation, he always knows exactly what to say and how to act. Having him as the face of the company was a large part of why we were able to grow as fast as we did. With his marketing and networking skills and my technical and engineering background, we were a force to be reckoned with.

But I’ve never appreciated him more than in this moment.

Getting to see the two people I care most in the world getting along so well? It means a helluva lot. I catch his eye as the caterers switch out our dinner plates for dessert and give him a small, meaningful nod that I hope lets him see my appreciation.

My phone rings right as I’m about to take a bite of my crème brûlée and I excuse myself from the table.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Lennox. It’s Malik here.” Malik is my chief software engineer. “We’re having a problem with the RISC chips we’re testing. The precision of the localization code is way off and we’re scrambling to figure out a way to fix it.”

“Shit.” I glance back over to Miranda and Darren, both of whom are looking my way. “I need to finish up with something but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay. As soon as possible would be best. We’ll keep working on it, but you’ve got the most experience with the new chips and everything’s stalled out till we fix this.”

I give a sharp nod then realize he can’t see me. “Got it. I’ll text you when I have an ETA.”

“What is it?” Miranda asks. “Is something the matter?”

“Just a problem in engineering. I’ll need to run over there later this afternoon.”

“What happened?” Darren gives me a concerned look.

“Nothing we can’t fix. Just a bug with one of the processor’s chips we’re testing.”

Darren shoots me a look. “How many bugs is it going to take before you admit it’s a bad idea taking a chance on those new chips?”

Of course he’d use this as an opportunity to take a dig at the RISC chips. He knows we were running another set of experiments with them this weekend. It’s true we’ve been running into bug after bug, but they’re all stupid ones. Little things that are easily fixed. The design of the new chips still makes them the best way to go, I’m more and more convinced the more I work with them.

“RISC is the future of robotics, Dare, how many times do I have to tell you? The old processors are shit in comparison. They won’t be able to compete—”

Then I glance Miranda’s way. Fuck. I’m just putting my foot in it. Her company, ProDynamics, makes one of the old Intel-style processors. And I haven’t even officially declined the ProDynamics bid. Unofficially, I know I want to go with the RISC chips but we have to make sure they’ll work with the rest of our infrastructure first. “I didn’t mean—”

“Dylan,” Miranda cuts me off, taking her napkin from her lap and putting it on the table. “It sounds like you need to go now. It’s okay. Go.” Her eyes are earnest and she doesn’t look offended in the least about my off-handed putdown of companies like the one she works for. “We’re almost done here anyway. I’ve had a lovely lunch.”

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