Page 2 of Heartwood and Hardware
"May the sawdust fly and the meet-cute feel effortless," Krissa reads from my notes, smiling. "I have a good feeling about this one, Zara."
I nod, already imagining the moment when Riley walks past Dean's station, when their eyes meet over a tiny wooden fox. "Me too. Sometimes the people who struggle most in crowds find each other in the quietest ways."
Zaftig Dating Agency Intake Form
Name:Dean Evans
Occupation:Chainsaw carver (artisan; specializes in sculpture, both large and small)
Referred By:Parker Mitchell, close friend and fellow Comic-Con vendor.
Name:Riley Bennett
Occupation:Computer coder
Meeting Location:Comic-Con.
Notes:Riley’s panel is scheduled to end right as Dean’s outdoor carving demo begins. He’s set up by the building entrance—a natural stopping point for those in need of quiet, or a carved fox.
CHAPTER ONE
RILEY
The email from the Comic-Con organizers arrives at 2:17 AM, when I'm deep in the flow state that only happens after midnight. My fingers pause over the keyboard, the rhythm of code momentarily interrupted by the notification ping. I almost ignore it—I'm so close to solving this database query issue—but the subject line catches my attention: "PANEL CONFIRMATION: Women in Tech - Final Schedule and Details."
I click, squinting at the brightness of the new window against my dark-mode IDE.
The panel information is straightforward enough: Saturday, 2:15-3:30 PM, Hall C. I'm third on the list of five speakers, which is perfect—not first, not last. I hate opening or closing. Too much pressure.
But there's a note at the bottom that makes my stomach do that weird flippy thing:
For panelists requiring quiet time after sessions, we've designated a special decompression area in the outdoor vendor section. Follow the blue "Quiet Zone" signs past theeast exit doors. This year's outdoor space features artisan demonstrations, including woodworking and sculpture. We hope this will be a calming atmosphere away from the main convention floor.
They remembered. I mentioned my need for decompression time once (just once) in a pre-event questionnaire, and they actually accommodated it. Something warm and unexpected blooms in my chest.
Then the anxiety kicks in. They're making special arrangements for me. I'm being high-maintenance. Too much. Different. Again.
I close the email and force myself back to the code, but my concentration is fractured. The elegant solution I was building evaporates, leaving me staring at nested functions that suddenly look foreign.
My phone buzzes on the desk.
Mia
You still up coding, nerd? It's literally the middle of the night.
Riley
Sleep is for the weak,sis. And people who don't have bugs to fix.
Mia
Your panel's this weekend, right? You ready?
Riley
Define "ready."
Mia
