Page 37 of Bar Down

"We've integrated our approaches better than I expected," Stephanie replied honestly. "Marcus's analytics actually support many of the community initiatives I've been championing, when properly contextualized."

"He's good at that—seeing patterns others miss," Amara agreed, her eyes softening as she glanced toward her brother. "Though sometimes completely blind to the human side of things."

"I can hear you," Marcus called from the kitchen.

"I know," Amara replied cheerfully before lowering her voice to add, "He couldn't stop talking about your strategic thinking. High praise from Spreadsheets."

Heat spread through Stephanie's chest at this revelation. "He's not exactly generous with compliments."

"Quality over quantity," Amara winked. "When Marcus appreciates something—or someone—it's absolute."

Before Stephanie could respond to this intriguing insight, Marcus returned with a salad that could have appeared in a food magazine.

"Your volume drops by at least 30% when discussing me," he observed, setting down the bowl. "Clear sign you're talking about something I'm supposed to ignore."

"So perceptive," Amara teased, retrieving the main course from the oven. "And yet completely oblivious when it suits him."

Dinner progressed with surprising ease, conversation flowing naturally between professional topics and personal stories. Amara proved to be a skilled mediator, drawing out sides of Marcus that Stephanie had never glimpsed—childhood stories, family traditions, even occasional self-deprecating humor typically buried beneath his analytical exterior.

"He was eight when he created his first statistical model," Amara recounted, eyes dancing with mischief over her second glass of wine. "A complex calculation to convince our parents that staying up late to watch Hockey Night in Canada would improve his grades."

"It was a valid hypothesis," Marcus defended, the slight curve of his lips betraying amusement. "Sleep deprivation was outweighed by educational content and motivational factors."

"And did it work?" Stephanie asked, enjoying this glimpse into young Marcus.

"Surprisingly, yes," Amara laughed. "Dad was so impressed by the methodology that he allowed it as an experiment. Marcus tracked his test scores for six weeks with and without hockey viewing."

"The results supported my hypothesis," Marcus added. "Though looking back, the sample size was too small and had confounding variables."

"Of course you'd critique your own childhood experiment," Stephanie said, shaking her head with a smile.

As Amara cleared their plates, insisting they remain seated, Stephanie studied Marcus in this new context. Away from the arena, away from the team, surrounded by family—he seemed both more relaxed and more human than she'd ever seen him.

"What?" he asked, catching her gaze.

"Just processing new information," she replied, deliberately using his terminology.

A smile touched his eyes, if not quite his lips. "And your initial conclusions?"

"That the Spreadsheets has more depth than initially assessed." She took a sip of wine, feeling bolder in this warm space so far from the pressures of New Haven. "You're more complex than advertised."

"Most things are," he acknowledged quietly.

A moment of understanding passed between them—something deeper than their professional alliance or even there few shared kisses. Recognition, perhaps, that they were both more than the professional personas they presented to the world.

Amara returned with dessert—maple cookies that Stephanie recognized from their lunch conversation, alongside rich coffee—and settled back at the table.

***

MARCUS

The night air hit sharp and cold as they left Amara's building, Toronto's skyline glittering against the dark sky. Stephanie pulled her coat tighter, breathing in the familiar scent of the city—so different from New Haven, yet carrying its own distinctive energy.

"Your sister is incredible," she said as they walked toward her rental car. "You never mentioned how different you two are."

"Complementary rather than different," Marcus corrected. "Amara processes information emotionally first, analytically second. I work in reverse."

"And your mother?"

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