9. Ethan

nine

I sat at the head of the conference table. Staring at the diagrams and notes that dominated one conference room wall, I could see Project Hornet coming to life. The nine-member team was doing well.

The Air Force base had reached out with a finalized contract. We had two months from now to produce a prototype for the combat drone.

With a curt nod, I cleared my throat. All eyes turned to me. I felt hers the most.

“Alright, team, let”s get down to business. Project Hornet is a go. We”ve got a tight deadline and some crucial steps to nail down.” I turned to David, a bald, young guy and the head of Mechanical Engineering. “Let”s start with production planning.”

He nodded. I didn’t miss how he briefly glanced at Evie before talking. I didn’t like it one bit.

“Thank you, sir. We”ve reviewed the contract specs and broken down the components needed for each drone. Material procurement is already underway, and we”re finalizing the assembly line schedule to ensure timely delivery.”

A raised finger drew my attention to them. I fixed my gaze on the brunette. She turned to David.

“I’m Chloe, the product manager. David, have we factored in the potential delays for that new guidance system component?”

David furrowed his brows. “Important observation, Chloe, thank you. There was a slight hiccup with the supplier. We”re working on a backup option, but there might be a one-week lag.”

One week? If we wanted to meet the schedule, we couldn”t afford such.

“That’s too much time, don’t you think?” Maxwell took the words out of my mouth.

“It is,” I interjected. “We need to minimize any potential delays. David and Chloe work together to see if we can expedite the backup option or explore alternative suppliers. We can”t afford to fall behind schedule.

They both wrote briefly in their jotters before nodding. “Yes, sir.”

I turned to Maxwell. “Maxwell, how”s quality assurance coming up? These drones need to be military grade. No mistakes.”

“We”ve already implemented our most stringent QA procedures. Every component will undergo rigorous testing, from flight performance to stress simulations. We”re also conducting penetration testing to ensure the drones” impenetrable security systems.”

“Over to you, Evie.” He added, turning to her.

I clenched my jaw when she stopped writing on the iPad and locked eyes with David.

“Thank you, Maxwell.” Her eyes roamed each member, but not me.

“I’ll be working closely with Maxwell to ensure the psychological implications of the drones on the soldiers operating them. Reviewing existing research on relevant subject matters and analyzing the drone’s design and capabilities in terms of level of autonomy, sensory information, and others would be the first few steps.”

A strange sense of pride shot through me at her words. Indeed, she was smart and had said everything reasonable.

But I couldn’t wonder why her eyes landed on the bald-headed guy again.

I moved my eyes between them and caught a slight smile on his face.

What the fuck was going on?My skin crawled in irritation at the interaction. And my fist itched to slam itself into his face.

“…sir?”

I turned to find Chloe staring at me. “What?”

“I was just asking if there was anything else we need to put in place before we commence.”

No. The only thing I needed to put in place was David’s damn face.

“Encryption protocols for the drone’s software are already in place. Cybersecurity is doing a great job. I think we’re good to go.” David’s voice sounded louder this time.

Involuntarily, I shot him a hard gaze. He didn’t call the damn shots. I did.

And I showed him that.

“David,” I deadpanned. “Let”s not forget about potential engineering tweaks that might arise during production. I want updates from you and your team every step of the way.”

He nodded firmly. “Yes, sir.”

That seemed to irritate me even more. “You all are dismissed.”

They all strode out with a look of determination on their faces. Still, without meeting my eyes, Evie began to pack the few papers with practiced efficiency.

She’d only been here two days. I wondered how she already had a…connection with David. My tongue itched to ask. Instead, I traced my eyes from the soft curve of her jaw to the one on her back.

She wore a fitted, knee-length dress that hugged her in the right places. My eyes roamed the expanse of her backside. The shape of her ass seemed even more accentuated with this dress.

My dick agreed with me. Restraining a groan, I quickly crossed my thighs. “The minute of the meeting?”

“Documented.” Her curt reply momentarily threw me off guard. I waited for something else, but there was nothing.

“You work closely with Maxwell.”

“I know that, sir.”

I didn’t know what irked me more. That I wanted her to look at me or that my damn boner kept rising. I slowly felt my anger rising.

When she was done, she gave a curt nod and walked out. The anger exploded in my chest. Fuck. I was angry at everything… her, David…myself. I was especially angry at myself.

My nostrils flared as I heaved. I was long overdue for a damn visit to the therapist.

I stood up, immediately making my way to the garage. I spotted my red Ferrari before climbing inside. In no time, I was on my way.

The noise in my head refused to quieten. I started to feel it all again. After about half an hour, I turned into the quiet, tree-lined street.

The familiar brownstone building came into view as I pulled up. I exited the car and then walked to the entrance.

The exterior was a warm shade of cream, accented with climbing ivy that softened the edges. I didn’t bother to stare at the brass plate on the door before entering.

The calming aroma of sandalwood hit my nostrils as I entered the waiting room. It was like I’d remembered— small and intimate, furnished with plush armchairs upholstered in a calming seafoam green.

A low coffee table displayed art books and tasteful nature photography magazines. I brushed through this until I reached her office. I knocked and then entered when she spoke.

“Dr. Amelia,” I nodded at the five-foot-five doctor.

She immediately stood up, surprise coating her face. “Mr. Thorne…it’s...it’s been a while.” She adjusted her doctor’s coat.

I scanned the pale blue office. Sunlight streamed in through a large window overlooking a private garden. Indeed, it had been eight months.

I nodded, fixing my eyes on the bookshelves overflowing with psychology texts. She took her seat.

“What can I offer you?”

“Don”t worry about that doctor.”

Her brown hair was pulled into a bun. Grey irises stared at me as if looking through me. “So…Mr. Thorne, why the long break from therapy?”

“I didn’t need it anymore.”

She continued in a calm voice. “Have you had any episodes recently?”

“No.” I didn’t hesitate. “Not after she died. Now, the only anger I have is towards myself.”

“You still blame yourself,” she breathed.

“Every single day.”

The guilt was inevitable. Each new day unveiled the same chains of guilt. Perhaps if I’d been better, Sophie wouldn’t be this way.

“And what is the main driving force of the guilt?” She urged gently.

“Sophie,” I breathed. I could feel my chest tightening as I struggled for my next words. “She’s still the same after so much help. I— I … caused it. If… maybe if I’d been more attentive….” I trailed.

“Mr. Thorne, I want you to take a deep breath, okay?” She took a deep breath. And I mimicked her actions.

“Good.” Silence stretched as she watched me.

“I want you to know that you did your best. Coming here was the best you could do then, and you handled it well.”

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“We can’t control fate, Mr. Thorne. Our actions can’t control them either.”

I frowned. “You’re telling me this is Sophie’s fate?”

“No.” Her voice was even softer. “I’m saying your guilt is perceived. All in your head.”

Maybe…but there’s one that isn’t.