Chapter 35 THIRTY-FIVE
The first morning, Lennox woke up disoriented. Wrong bed, wrong light, wrong sounds filtering through the windows. It took her a second to remember. San Francisco. Hotel suite. Callum somewhere on the other side of that door.
She'd slept terribly, kept thinking about him out there on the couch, wondering if he was sleeping or just lying awake like she was. Around three AM she'd almost gotten up to check on him but talked herself out of it because that would've been weird and crossing about seventeen lines they'd carefully drawn.
She found him in the living area already dressed, tie perfect, scrolling through his phone with coffee in hand. He looked up when she appeared.
"Morning." He gestured vaguely at the coffee pot. "There's, uh. Coffee."
"Thank god." She poured herself a cup, added way too much cream because hotel coffee was always terrible. "Did you sleep okay? That couch looked..."
"Fine. It was fine." He wasn't looking at her. "You?"
"Yeah. Great. Totally great."
"So I have..." He checked his watch. "Meetings until six. Maybe later. You can, I don't know, stay here or go out or whatever you want."
"I'll probably explore. I've never really done the tourist thing here."
"Right. Yeah. That makes sense." He grabbed his briefcase, stood there for a second like he wanted to say something else. "Clara sent the schedule for tonight. Dinner's at seven."
"Okay. I'll be ready."
"You don't have to come if you don't..."
"I want to." The words came out too fast. "I mean, I'm already here so. Might as well."
"Right. Okay. Good." He headed for the door, paused with his hand on the knob. "If you need anything..."
"Callum. I'll be fine. Go close your deals or whatever."
He nodded and left, and the suite felt massive and empty at the same time.
Lennox spent ten minutes staring at her coffee, then another five staring at her phone, before deciding she wasn't going to waste a perfectly good day sitting in a hotel room overthinking everything.
She got dressed, grabbed her jacket, and headed out.
The city was gorgeous. Cool and bright with that California light that made everything look cleaner somehow. She walked down hills that were actually insane, like who designed a city on slopes this steep, legs burning by the time she hit the waterfront area.
Fisherman's Wharf was packed with tourists taking selfies and eating overpriced seafood but she didn't care. Just wandered around, breathed in salt air, felt anonymous in the best possible way.
She took a rideshare out to the Golden Gate Bridge because when else was she going to do it? The fog was rolling in when she got there, turning everything gray and mystical. She stood at the overlook for way too long, just watching the water, feeling small. Nobody here knew who she was. Nobody cared about Mrs. Westbrook or Lennox Rivers or any of it. She was just some woman at a bridge.
It felt good. Really good.
North Beach was next. Tiny bookstores crammed with used paperbacks, the smell of old pages and dust. Cafes serving espresso that was way too strong but she drank it anyway. She bought three books she absolutely didn't need and a postcard she'd probably never actually send to anyone.
Her phone buzzed around two. Text from Callum: How's exploring?
She smiled at her screen like an idiot. Good. Currently caffeinated and possibly lost in North Beach.
Classic. Dinner's at Gary Danko, 7pm. Car will arrive at 6:30.
I'll be ready.
She took her time getting back, stopped for lunch at this tiny Italian place where the server barely spoke English and she definitely didn't speak Italian but they figured it out through pointing and lots of hand gestures. The pasta was incredible. Simple and perfect and nothing like the fancy restaurants she'd been going to lately with their foam and microgreens and plates that looked like art projects.
This was just food. Good food. Real food.
She thought about her ex, the gambling addict who'd ruined her life. He would've hated this place. Would've insisted on somewhere expensive where he could show off, order wine he couldn't actually afford.
The thought surprised her. She hadn't thought about him in weeks. Maybe longer. He'd been such a massive part of her life and now he was just... nothing. A bad memory that barely registered anymore.
Back at the hotel by five. She showered, stared at the dresses Maria had packed like they held the secrets of the universe. Went with the midnight blue one because it made her feel good without trying too hard. Hair up. Minimal jewelry. The kind of effort that looked effortless even though it took forty minutes.
Callum knocked on the bedroom door at six twenty. "Car's here. Almost. Like five minutes."
She opened the door and he just... stopped. Stared at her for a second too long.
"You look..." He cleared his throat. "That dress is... you look really nice."
"Thanks. You too. I mean, you look good too. Obviously."
He did. Charcoal suit, burgundy tie that probably cost more than her rent used to be. Hair styled back. Unfairly handsome in that cold, sharp way that shouldn't work but absolutely did.
They rode the elevator down in silence. Got in the car in silence. Sat next to each other in silence until Callum finally said, "You don't have to be nervous. They're just investors."
"I'm not nervous."
"You're doing that thing with your hands."
She looked down. She was twisting her ring around her finger. His ring. The one that supposedly meant something but didn't really mean anything at all.
"Okay, maybe a little nervous."
"Don't be. You're..." He paused. "You'll be great. You're always great at this stuff."
Something warm spread through her chest. "Thanks."
The restaurant was intimidating. All elegant and hushed, the kind of place where people whispered and every plate looked like a painting. Callum's clients were already there at a round table near the back. Three men in expensive suits and a woman who looked like she could run a Fortune 500 company in her sleep.
"Callum, good to see you." The oldest guy stood up, shook his hand. Firm grip, assessing eyes. "And this must be..."
"Lennox. My wife." Callum's hand found the small of her back. "Lennox, this is Richard Chen, Diane Martinez, Paul Whitmore, and James Liu."
She smiled, shook hands, tried not to seem as out of place as she felt.
They settled into conversation. Business talk mostly. Tech stuff, market trends, things Lennox barely understood. She was prepared to just smile and nod, play the pretty wife who didn't have opinions.
But then Diane mentioned something about blockchain applications and Lennox heard herself saying, "The problem isn't the technology though. It's implementation. Most companies are trying to force blockchain into systems that don't actually need it."
Everyone looked at her.
Shit. Maybe she should've stayed quiet.
"Go on," Diane said, leaning forward slightly.
"I just mean... it's like using a jackhammer to hang a picture frame. Sure, it'll work, but there are way better tools for the job. Blockchain makes sense for some applications but not everything needs to be decentralized."
Diane laughed. "Thank god. I've been saying this exact thing for months and everyone looks at me like I'm crazy."
The conversation shifted after that. Opened up. Lennox found herself actually talking, not just performing. About financial systems and security protocols, stuff she knew from her old analyst days and her current... other work. Though obviously she kept that part quiet.
The men listened. Asked questions. Seemed genuinely interested instead of just being polite.
She caught Callum watching her at one point. Not in that cold, assessing way he usually did. Something else. Something warmer. Almost like...
She looked away before she could finish that thought.
Dinner was four courses. Each one better than the last. Wine kept appearing in her glass like magic. The conversation got easier, louder. Richard told this story about his first startup that completely failed and had everyone laughing. Diane asked about her volunteer work and actually seemed to care about the answer.
"You two are really good together," Diane said at some point, smiling at both of them. "It's rare, you know? Most couples at these things, you can tell one person dominates or they're just tolerating each other for show. But you two actually seem like partners."
Callum's hand found Lennox's under the table. Squeezed once. Warm and solid and real.
"I'm lucky," he said quietly, still looking at her.
Her heart did that stupid flip thing it had been doing lately. The thing she kept pretending wasn't happening.