Page 77 of Close to the Edge

“Just checking that you’re breathing, is all.”

I wrenched my gaze from the screen. “I’m not paying you to sit around watching online videos all day, Maggie.”

She nodded sagely. “Then I guess you won’t want the thing I just sent to your phone.”

My scowl deepened. “What thing?” I pulled my phone from my pocket.

It was an invitation to a black tie event. Hosted by SDM. Five thousand dollars a plate. Starting at 8 pm. Tonight.

A tremble rolled up my arm and down my body. “Why the hell did you send me this?”

“Because I’m terrified one of these days you’ll develop actual fangs and claws and all my parents will find when they come looking for me is a dried up husk.”

“Trust me. If I turned feral you wouldn’t be my first choice of a meal.”

I knew someone who tasted sweeter. Glorious, in fact. Someone whose every breath I would die for, given half a chance.

“Fine, but just FYI, this is her last gig for SDM. Who knows where she’ll disappear to afterward?”

The words struck pure dread into my heart, pissing me off even more. I stomped back into my office. “Can’t go. I’m busy.”

“Actually, you’re not. But okay.”

I threw myself into my chair, vowing not to look at the invitation. I lasted five minutes. “Maggie!”

“Yeah, boss, I have your tux right here.”

Great. This was my chance to rectify a few things with Lily Gracen.

Once and for all.

Lily

The terrace of the Griffith Observatory was great for many things, including its stunning views of nighttime LA. But decked out in spotlights and caviar towers and champagne fountains, it was magnificent. That was before the celebrities and Fortune 500 CEOs who’d flown in from around the globe added their dazzle to the occasion.

After two weeks of hard publicity, tonight was the official launch party stroke fund-raiser for SDM’s compression algorithm. And my final appearance as the ambassador for the most talked about development in the tech world. After tonight I was free. I’d never need to set eyes on Chance Donovan, or my stepfather again.

Even though the latter thought brought a pang of pain, I was okay with it. For the first time in my life, I could truly move forward with no baggage.

I closed on the sale of the abandoned drive-in movie theater today, and immediately applied for permission to convert it into offices. I was starting my own tech company and even though I was scared spitless, I was also excited.

If nothing else, starting a company from the ground up would take my mind off thinking about Caleb.

Whoever said time healed all wounds was a dotard. With every passing day, the hole in my chest grew wider, deeper. There were times when I feared the thing could just expire from the brutal trauma it endured daily, simply because it craved one night of perfection that would never be repeated.

But did you make absolutely sure it couldn’t be repeated?Or did you shut the door because you were hurt and never looked back?

Those lingering questions were the reason I hadn’t erased his last message from two weeks ago from my phone. Or maybe I was just a glutton for punishment.

Had he moved on? Was he currently buried neck deep in a new exciting case?

“I have no idea what it does, but I hear it’s revolutionary. What did they call it again?”

“They called it the Angel Algorithm,” a deep, magnificent voice said.

Dear God. His voice...

“WhyAngel?”

---