Chapter 31: Passive Observations
Timeline: 08:45, Saturday
Location: Unit 3 / Guest Suites
I woke up because a small, heavy weight landed squarely on my bladder. I groaned, cracking one eye open. Nephy was standing on my stomach, staring at me with wide, judgmental golden eyes. The room was… aggressively bright. The blackout curtains had parted slightly, letting in a beam of California sunshine that felt like punishment.
I rolled over, coaxing the cat to find another safe harbor, and checked my phone: 8:45 AM.
I hadn't slept that late since… well, since undergrad? Maybe even before. Sleep was never my strong suit, but Alex had been serious about the "sleep in" order.
I sat up. My head throbbed slightly—a reminder of the tequila—and my calves ached from three hours of dancing in chunky heels. But the most distinct sensation was the ghost of a touch on my skin. My waist still felt the pressure of Julian's hands. My lips still tingled.
Heart rate: 140 BPM the readout had said. He pushed it up that far and then kicked me out—again. And what was with him looking like he was going to crush his kitchen island countertop in his hands? The more I think I know about him, the less I understand.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the memory of him standing between my knees in the kitchen. I needed coffee. I needed normalcy. I needed to not think about variables for at least an hour.
My phone buzzed.
[Ellie]: I know you're awake. I saw your blinds move. Come feed us. We're helpless tourists.
[Ellie]: Also, Dan made pancakes. Again.
I smiled. Normalcy acquired.
I dragged myself out of bed and threw on a pair of yoga pants and my oversized "I'm Not Late. It's Time Dilation." t-shirt. It draped off of my shoulder and I knotted the front at the hem. And it felt like armor against the high-fashion expectations of Agonwood.
I walked out of Unit 3 and squinted against the sun. The Commons was quiet. The gravel crunched under my sneakers as I crossed the distance to Block B where the door to the Guest Suite was open. I walked in to find a scene of domestic chaos that warmed my chest.
Dan was at the kitchenette stove, flipping pancakes with the same intensity he applied to triaging patients. Ellie was sitting at the small dining table, nursing a mug of coffee and scrolling through her iPad.
"She lives!" Dan cheered, pointing a spatula at me. "How's the head? You went pretty hard on the dance floor."
"The head is fine," I lied, taking the seat opposite Ellie. "The feet are protesting."
"Here," Dan said, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me. They were slightly burnt on the edges, just the way he liked them. "Carbs. Sugar. The cure for all evils."
"Thanks, my very bestest and dearest Dan."
"At least wait until you have tried them, first. I refuse to lose to fluffed-up fried bread," Ellie declared.
She put down her iPad and adjusted her glasses. She then stared at me with a look that was entirely too sharp for a Saturday morning.
"So," Ellie said, taking a sip of coffee. "The 'Debrief'."
I choked on my first bite of pancake.
"He was trying to be funny," I said, reaching for the syrup. "It was his way of saying that I needed to sleep."
"Does he often tell you what you need to do?" Ellie asked. "In the dark? In the car?"
I shrugged, feeling embarrassed. "He's the boss. He can be a bit bossy."
"Uh-huh," Ellie said. She leaned forward. "Lonna, I saw the way he looked at you in the club. That wasn't a performance review. Unless he was reviewing your tonsils."
"Ellie!" Dan groaned from the kitchen. "I'm eating here. Please don't make me think about Vane touching her."
"He didn't touch me," I said quickly. Then I remembered his hands on my waist, his thumb on my jaw. "Well, not like that. He's just… intense. He talks about work like it's a war."
"And the car ride home?" Dan asked, coming over to the table with his own plate. He sat down heavily, the chair creaking. "He sat in the front seat like a gargoyle. I thought he was going to bite Thomas if he hit a pothole."
"He's protective of the team," I said.
"He's possessive," Dan corrected, cutting his pancakes with unnecessary force. "He marked his territory at the gate the other day, and he did it again last night. You need to be careful, Lon. Guys like that… they don't share."
"I'm not something to be shared," I said, a little sharper than I intended.
Dan softened. "I know. I just… I don't want you to get steamrolled. You have a habit of letting people run you over because you're busy looking at the math."
"I can handle Julian," I said, wishing I felt as confident as I sounded.
"Can you?" Ellie asked softly.
I looked at her. She wasn't teasing anymore. She was worried.
"I'm figuring it out," I said. "It's a complex equation. But I'm solving it."
We ate in relative silence for a few minutes, the easy banter of the weekend dampened by the shadow of the man in Unit 2.
"Well," Ellie said, standing up and clearing her plate. "We're going to hit the outlet mall in Gilroy today. Dan needs running shoes that aren't held together by hope and duct tape."
"Hey!" Dan protested. "These have character."
"You coming?" Ellie asked me.
I hesitated. I wanted to go. I wanted to get in the minivan and drive away from the anomaly. But if I left, Julian would know I was running. And Alex… Alex had asked for the fleet software by Monday.
"I do. But I can't," I said. "I actually do have work today. The 'Debrief' generated a lot of action items."
Dan looked disappointed, but he nodded. "Okay. We'll bring you back some garlic fries."
I hugged them both—Dan's hug lifting me off the floor as usual—and walked back out into the sun.
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Timeline: 11:00
Location: Unit 1 Patio
I wasn't ready to go back to my empty unit. Nephy would just judge me, and the thermostat would probably try to lower the temperature to cool my blushing face.
I walked along the path toward the staff rowhouses.
As I passed Unit 1, a voice called out. "Coffee?"
I stopped. Alex was sitting on his patio. He was wearing a soft knit sweater and reading a physical newspaper—an actual New York Times. A French press sat on the low table in front of him. He looked calm, expensive. He looked like the antidote to Julian's chaos.
"Is it real coffee?" I asked, walking up to the low wall. "Or that nutrient sludge Dave drinks?"
"Single-origin Ethiopian," Alex smiled, gesturing to the empty chair opposite him. "And I have real cream."
"You're going to make me cry." I opened the gate and sat down. Alex poured a cup and slid it toward me.
"Your friends seem lively this morning," Alex noted, folding his paper.
"They want me to go outlet shopping," I said, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.
"Are you?"
"I'm not missing the field test of our new suped-up Ghost Trap."
Alex chuckled. "That is never going to be its name. My apologies to Marcus." He leaned back, crossing his legs as if signaling a pivot in the conversation. "How are the variables today, Lonna?"
It was a loaded question. He probably knew Julian had taken me to Unit 2 last night. He was right next door.
"The variables are… volatile," I admitted. "High energy. Hard to predict."
"High energy systems tend to burn out," Alex said softly. "Or they explode."
"I'm trying to keep it contained," I said. "I'm building safety measures."
Alex looked at me over the rim of his cup. His blue eyes were steady, unblinking. "Interlocks fail," he said. "Sometimes, the only way to manage a high-energy system is to ground it."
He reached out and placed his hand on the table, palm up. It wasn't a demand. It was an offer.
"I'm a structural engineer, Lonna. I build things that withstand earthquakes. I don't mind a little shaking. But I want to make sure the foundation holds."
"I'd be lying if I didn't say I felt like I was in way over my head." I looked at his hand. It was an anchor point. "And I honestly don't have enough experience to know where the water line even is, let alone how long I have to tread."
Alex looked at me with sincerity. "Maybe start with whether you want to be in the water to begin with."
"I guess… if I want to continue this metaphor, I'd say something like 'I've been floating in the deep end for so long that I didn't know I had the choice to swim.' I'm just cold and pruny, and I wouldn't mind something warm and dry."
Alex smiled, a slow, warm expression that made my breath catch. "If I build a fireplace, Lonna, I will frame the fire so it warms the house without burning it down."
I reached out and placed my hand in his. His fingers closed around mine—warm, dry, and secure. "I think I wouldn't mind a fireplace," I admitted. "It's just that the flicker of the fire can be so mesmerizing at times."
"I know," Alex said. He squeezed my hand gently. "Drink your coffee, Lonna. We have a fleet to upgrade on Monday."
"Monday? Not today?"
"We had some complications at the factory site, but it should be resolved by Monday."
I drank. The coffee was smooth, rich, and perfectly balanced. Sitting there, with the sun on my face and Alex's hand holding mine, I felt like I wouldn't go under.
"How angry was Julian that it was postponed? Is he going to be in a mood?"
"Depends," Alex answered earnestly. "Apex is handling the complications. So he's there, now."
Alex looked at me thoughtfully. "What are you thinking?"
"That these days off, it makes me really appreciate the fantasy world that you all have created here at Agonwood to help us be more productive."
"Lonna, it's not just about that," Alex defended.
"I don't mean it in a bad way. I truly do appreciate it. I just have to keep reminding myself that the project will be over at some point. And the real world is waiting on the other side of it."
"There are always new projects," Alex said. "We don't have any intention of letting you slip from our grasp anytime soon."
"Terrifying, and yet comforting—much like the vibe of Agonwood as a whole."
Alex chuckled. "It's certainly been more lively as of late."