“Sofia?” Abby said. “The girl who visited you at the office?”
“The girl who tagged the office,” Damien said gravely as Abby’s mouth dropped open. He caught a glimpse of Quincy, whose expression was as dark as a building storm. “What?”
Quincy just shook his head. And before Damien could ask what the hell that was about, he turned and walked away.
Nikki slipped an arm around Damien’s waist. “She probably just didn’t want to be told what to do. Maybe she only wants to prove that you can’t control her completely. She’ll probably turn up tomorrow with an apology and tell you she got LA out of her system and is ready to go back to London.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I intend to find her before then.”
“Already on it,” Ryan said as he returned. “I’ve got a team at the hotel looking at the security video in the elevators, stairwells, lobby, and garage. We’ll figure out where she went and in what type of transportation.”
“I know you will.”
“Damien—” Ryan’s voice was tight, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Howser’s actions weren’t up to standard, and that falls on me. It won’t happen again.”
Damien looked at his friend, a man whose skill and attention to detail had not only put him on Damien’s radar all those years ago, but had formed the foundation of their friendship and Ryan’s rise in the company.
He thought of all the mistakes he’d made himself since Anne’s kidnapping. The wrong choices, bad judgment calls, and misplaced faith. He’d be one hell of a hypocrite to bring Ryan down a notch for not having complete and total control over his men.
“It’s okay, Ryan,” he said, intentionally using his friend’s first name. “I’ve never doubted your ability or your follow-through. I know you’ll handle it just fine.” He shifted his attention to Abby, dismissing Ryan’s apology as so much fluff, and saw the hint of a smile touch Ryan’s mouth. “Should we head to the kitchen where we can talk easier?”
“Actually, I was hoping I could get everyone involved,” Abby said, looking around the room. “Or at least as many of you as are willing to help.”
“We got the prototypes in,” Nikki explained, referring to the colorful, plastic encased GPS trackers that were the main feature of the upgrades rolling out soon as part of Fairchild & Partners’ Mommy’s Helper app.
“We’ve done some tweaks to the refresh rate—Travis is brilliant, I have to say—and we’ve also added the step counter. Next iteration will include a passive listen-in, but we’re still working on the underlying tech.”
“Listen in?” Bree said.
“Yeah, so, like, if your kid is being bullied at school, you can actually stream the sound around them.”
“That’s really cool.”
Abby nodded, looking giddy. “I know, right?”
“This app is Abby’s baby.” Nikki flashed Abby a pride-filled smile. “And she’s done an amazing job.”
“I just want the roll-out to go smoothly, and I’m nervous. We have our beta testers lined up, but I want to use all of you as alpha testers for one particular issue we need to resolve. We’re having some addressing problems—showing the tracker one house over on the app’s map, for example, which would suck if you’re trying to figure out where little Johnny is.”
She grimaced. “I know it’s a pain, but you just have to wear it on your waistband or bra for forty-eight hours. And keep your phone with you. The app won’t actually be useable yet—so don’t dump the kids at the Beverly Center and assume you can track them. You’ll only be able to see the location of your own tracker in the analytics app, but right now, that’s the only information I need.”
She looked imploringly around the room. “Okay? Do you mind?”
Ryan grinned at her, then smiled up at Jamie, who was coming in from taking a phone call outside. “We’re happy to, aren’t we, babe? And so are these guys,” he added, waving a hand at the tech team hunched over laptops as they crunched data.
“I have no idea what we’re talking about, but sure.”
“And you know Damien and I are in,” Nikki said, and he nodded agreement, then added, “I’m sure Quincy will be, too.”
“And me,” said Bree. “And Moira and the kids. If you need more, I could ask Kari. The manager at Upper Crust. She’s coming over tonight with more muffins.”
“You two are going to spoil us,” Nikki said. “Not that I’ll turn down her chocolate chip muffins.”
“Who would?” Abby asked. “And yeah, that would be great. I’ll leave a few extras for her and anyone at the bakery who’s up to helping.” She glanced around the room, smiling. “Seriously, thanks. I’m just so nervous about this roll-out. Nikki can email everyone the link to download the analytics app and set up your account.”
“It’s going to be terrific,” Nikki said, clipping the tracker to her waistband. “Eric’s all over the ad campaign?”
Abby nodded. “We’re good. The PR team is coming to the office on Tuesday.”
Nikki glanced at Damien, and he nodded, then attached his tracker as well. They were looking for a needle in a haystack, and while he wasn’t willing to scale back the hunt yet, there was no reason Nikki should miss her meetings. But until they found Sofia, he’d make sure that she went back and forth to work with two or three of Ryan’s best men.
“I’ll be there,” she told Abby.
“Great. And tomorrow night, right?” This time the question was directed at both Nikki and Damien.
He shrugged, then glanced at Nikki, who looked equally clueless.
“Dammit, this is my fault,” Abby said. “I meant to have Marge call you, but it must have slipped my mind.”
“What’s going on?” Nikki asked.
“Bijan is in town. He wants to meet for dinner.”
“Oh.” Nikki’s eyes shot to Damien’s. “We can do that, right?”
“Of course.” Bijan Kamali was one of the principals of Greystone-Branch, Nikki’s biggest client aside from Stark International. A client that had been hard won during the traumatic months surrounding her miscarriage. And Damien knew how much the continuing relationship with Greystone-Branch meant to Nikki. “When and where?” he asked Abby.
“Oh, good.” The younger woman’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I was afraid I’d have to handle it. I’ll text you the time and place, okay? I’m guessing around seven.”
“That’ll be fine,” Nikki assured her.
“Okay. Um, do you want me there, too?”
Damien bit back a smile as Nikki’s eyes widened. “Of course. We’re partners, right?”
Abby’s face lit up. “I know. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real.”
“It’s real,” Nikki said as she slipped her hand into Damien’s, “and I couldn’t do it without you.”
* * * *
“Not in the water, girls,” Damien called as he walked along the beach with Nikki’s hand in his, the girls running along in front of them.
They’d pigged out on chocolate chip pancakes, and now both little girls were bundles of sugared-up energy.
“This is nice,” Nikki said, swinging their hands as they walked. ?
?I want answers, don’t get me wrong. But I miss having our house to ourselves.”
“Do you want me to kick them out?” He could easily move the command center to Stark Tower, but he wanted to be involved. And if the team was in the Tower, he’d be living out of the apartment. And he wasn’t willing to live without Nikki and the kids, so…
She started laughing.
“What?”
“You. You’re completely transparent.”
His brows rose. “On the contrary. I have a reputation for being a killer in negotiations precisely because I’m unreadable. And I’m one hell of a poker player, too.”
She pulled him to a halt and hooked her arms around him. “Maybe to everyone else. But I see you clearly, Mr. Stark.”
“And thank God for that.”
She tilted her mouth up to meet his, and he kissed her gently, then slid his arm around her waist. She sighed as he held her and they both stood there, watching the girls run along the surf’s edge, chasing waves and picking up shells.
“I want normal again, Damien. I want it all back the way it was.”
“It will be.”
She nodded. “I think it will. This is going to sound crazy, but I feel like we’re making progress. Like the vandalism thing with Sofia.”
He took a step back, studying her face. “You think Sofia had something to do with Anne?”
She shook her head, and he exhaled, realizing in that moment how much he’d feared that she believed exactly that—and afraid that deep down he was weighing that possibility as well.
“No, no. And I’m so angry at her for what she did to the office, and so sad for her as well—but it’s an answer, you know? Not about the kidnapping, but an answer.” She lifted a shoulder. “I figure that counts for something.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess it does.”
“Mommy! Daddy! Look!”
He grinned at her and took her hand as they caught up to their daughters. And for the next hour, Damien was no one other than a husband and a father. It felt good. It felt freeing.