Page 49 of Ghost of Ex-mas Past
“Oh my god.”
“Bea,” Nash starts gently. “ImmUniverse might be big enough to get out of this in one piece because they’re one of the biggest VR manufacturers and they have a massive amount of resources. Rivrse is...”
“Oh my god,” I say again. “Rivrse is done for.”
24
Charlie
Years ago,I learned about glacial erratic boulders. These rocks would embed into glaciers that would carry them away from their source. Then the glaciers would melt and deposit the rocks in weird locations.
Sometimes, the melt would get caught by an ice dam, and the water would build up, piling debris until the dam broke, launching a cataclysmic flood across the lands and sending the rocks even further at up to eighty miles per hour.
That’s what I feel like right now. The dam has broken and I’ve been swept up and somehow deposited on the highway headed toward the city at nearly the same speed.
I should be thinking about the call with Arlo—who said, “I strongly recommend we back out of this agreement and hire a legal team”—and the article he had sent me—“. . . grossly misusing customer data for no less than spying on their customers...”
Instead, I see Bea.
I don’t want to think about that look on her face. I don’t want to hear the anger in her dad’s voice or see the way Lance grabbed her hand in a comforting touch.
But now that I’m in the flow of traffic and the panic is receding into mind-numbing automation—turn signal on, check mirrors, change lanes—I can’t stop picturing it.
What have I done?
I can fix this. One thing at a time. I’ll get to the city and I’ll—I’ll...
What, exactly?
Arlo said he was going to call me back after he spoke to a lawyer. He suggested I call my marketing manager, Tasha, who’s probably down in San Diego with her family right now. I need to touch base with my staff—probably my entire company. If they haven’t seen the article by now, they will soon.
But none of that is going to solve the problem.
A car honks and I realize I’ve slowed down on the highway. I push the gas pedal to keep up with traffic and then, on a better impulse, throw on my blinker and pull onto the shoulder.
The car, Bea’s rental, slows to a stop. I put it in park and rest my forehead on the steering wheel.
I sit like that for a few minutes, the car swaying every time traffic passes.
This is not dissimilar to my breakdown last year. A few frantic, panicked decisions and then I freeze up and question everything. This time is more abrupt, but the tightness in my chest and the flutter of my heartbeat scream at me to DO SOMETHING BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT.
I grapple with the phone and press at the screen until I call Arlo.
“Hey, Charlie.” His voice is even and businesslike, and I close my eyes knowing that he’s been working to clean up this mess the best he can.
“Charlie?” He’s worried now.
“I’m here. I don’t know what to do,” I croak out.
“Where are you?”
I don’t bother lifting my head. “On the highway somewhere north of the city.”
“Tell me where you are. I’ll be right there.”
Arlo’s with his own fucking family and here he is on Christmas Eve, offering to come find me. I belatedly realize that if I were in his shoes, I would bereally fucking worriedabout me, especially since I’m on the side of the highway. He’s been through this with me once before, and I can’t believe I’m dragging him through it again.
I sit up and shake my head. Not that Arlo can see it. “Wait, don’t.”
