Page 14 of Emergency Exit
“I don’t really get how this works,” said Shihan, shaking his head.
“Danny and the government have to agree on how much the tech is worth, and neither trusts the other’s valuation. Which is…”
“Completely reasonable?”
“Yes. Anyway, I’m one of the people they mutually agreed would be part of the valuation team. Once they send me his research, I’ll do what I usually do—make a competitive market analysis, do a trend forecast, and estimate what it could be sold for on the market. The other two reviewers will do the same, and then they’ll probably do an average of our numbers and start negotiating an actual price.”
“Man,” said Shihan, shaking his head. “I’m glad I told Danny to put you on the list. It all sounds like voodoo economics to me, but it makes me feel a lot better knowing Danny’s got someone steady looking at it.”
Ash smiled and nodded, feeling a twin sense of relief and guilt. This was why he needed Harper. He couldn’t look anything but normal or give anyone a reason not to trust him. There was too much riding on this—not just for himself, but for the other people in his life.
Back at his condo, Ash parked his Porsche in the parking garage and began extricating his gear from the non-existent back seat. Ash loved the car—he’d finagled his way into getting one of the first experimental hybrid Porsche models. No one else had the car yet and wouldn’t for another year. But it did lack storage space. He kept thinking he should find his own house and buy a few more vehicles to give him options, but he liked his condo, and the prospect of moving was daunting.
He got into the elevator and checked his phone. He was hoping that Harper would have texted him. There was no reason she should have. He’d told her that he’d text her tomorrow with plans for their first faux-date. He was still prepping a dossier on himself so they could successfully pretend to have been dating for months. It would have been much easier if he knew anything about himself. He was currently stymied by his favorite color. It was probably green. Or possibly blue. Light blue had the highest percentage of his shirt colors, but that was because of Emma.She had always said that bright colors were gauche. Whatever that was. He’d never actually googled the meaning. Judging from her expression when she said it,gauchemeant tacky.
His phone rang as he approached his door and he quickly checked the face and was disappointed when it was only his brother Forest.
“Hey,” said Ash, unlocking the door.
He was going to get rid of all those boring Emma shirts and he should update his profile picture on his website so he was wearing something more him. That thought reminded him that Forest hadn’t sent any photos to the family text thread.
“Where’s my Olly pic of the day?” he demanded.
Forest had a three-year-old son, Olliver, who was possibly the cutest thing in existence and a definite argument in favor of procreation even if his arrival hadn’t been planned.
“It hasn’t exactly been a cute day,” said Forest.
“Oh. Is it a Monster Olly day? What’d that lady on the TV call it? Being a threenager?”
Ash dropped his gear and headed for the kitchen. His evening plan was beer and leftovers while finishing his dating dossier.
“Sounds right,” said Forest, tiredly. “Honestly, I don’t remember you being this hard to deal with.”
“That is because I was an angel baby.”
“Uh... No.”
“Well, you were what—six or seven when I was Olly’s age? You may not be remembering accurately.” Ash didn’t add that their father had left for the final time when Ash was Ollie’s age, so maybe Forest’s opinion was colored by circumstances.
“Yeah, or maybe Rowan was better at all this stuff.”
Ash was surprised at how bitter Forest sounded. He’d known his brother had been stressed when his nanny quit, but Forest sounded exhausted.
“No,” said Ash firmly. “Rowan would have been…” He pausedto work out their ages. “Eleven when I was Ollie’s age. You can’t tell me he was a better parent at eleven than you are now.”
Doing the math surprised him. In his memory, Rowan was always bigger, smarter, and wiser. Rowan had been their adult since their dad split. But eleven was just a kid.
“Maybe?” Forest offered weakly, and Ash snorted.
“Still no nanny?”
“No,” said Forest. “Actually, maybe. At least a temporary one. But I have to go get her. I don’t suppose you could come over and be in the house while I do that? Olly’s already in bed.”
Ash looked down at himself. He was a sweaty wreck. He’d never told his brothers about karate. He thought they’d make fun of him like all the other normies.
“Um, I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“It’s fine. I’ll call Rowan.” Forest sounded so dejected that Ash began to panic.
