“Great. What am I having?”
“Bourbon.” She grins.
To novices like me, all bourbons taste about the same. Some have more of a pepper or maybe a caramel taste, but nevertheless, I enjoy the drink.
We’re laughing and catching up when I feel a hand on my back. I look up, and I’m disappointed to see Tomas.
“Hey. I haven’t seen you in a while.” He paints a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. I spot Bridget, Tomas’ camera woman from the Y, standing off in the shadows, pointing her phone in our direction, but trying not to be obvious.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalking me,” Tomas responds. He wiggles his eyebrows as if he’s flirting, but I don’t see it that way at all.
“How did you know we were here?” I ask, trying hard to keep my cool.
“Total luck to find you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
I look at Yolanda, and she’s on the phone. I watch as four guys descend on Tomas and Bridget without them realizing it.
I look over at Bridget and crook my finger. “Bridget, why don’t you join us? The FBI will be here in a few minutes, so you might as well share what you have to say.”
She looks around as three big burly men and a woman, all wearing FBI windbreakers, arrive at the bar.
Tomas starts to move away, but my team doesn’t let him leave. “What the hell?”
“Tomas, we’ve been watching the Stanford Octagon PeopleMover page. You’ve been running a ‘Where is Tinsley Pratt’ thread where you and your loser friends stalk me, say horrible things about me, and tell lies. And while that is what jealous losers do, the truth is, you would never have been able to find me tonight unless you had a tracker on one of my team member’s phones. That’s illegal in California, and the best part is, because your little friend here recorded it all, we have proof of a conspiracy. And with the PeopleMover page, we have proof you’ve done this multiple times.”
“You have nothing on me.” Tomas holds his hands up as if he’s innocent.
I shrug. “Let me introduce you to Cora Perry from the FBI. She’ll be taking your cell phone.” I lean in close. “I dare you to fight it. I hear the FBI only prosecutes when they know they can win.”
Landon arrives as Tomas is being walked out. He looks crestfallen. “I missed it?”
I nod. “We weren’t even here a half hour before Tomas and Bridget arrived.”
Kissing me on the cheek, Landon nods to the girls. “I invited some friends.” A wall of shoulders stands next to the table. “Ginger, I understand you requested some single men. Please meet Dash Meyers, Grey Merriman, Darren Porter, and Hunter Stillman.”
Ginger’s eyes grow large. “All for me?”
The whole table laughs.
Chapter 42
Landon
When we get home, it’s almost midnight. Tomas’ arrest was merely a blip in the evening. That won’t be the end of him, and I still have to wonder what exactly he was up to, but it does mean he’ll be out of Tinsley’s life for a while, and I’m perfectly fine with that. I’m sure we’ll be using Marci’s services again when the time comes.
I think Darren and Ginger hit it off, and Danica liked Hunter. It was a fun night. Vanessa’s wife showed up, and she was a ton of fun, too. We’ll have to do more together with the teams.
I have a bit of a buzz, but I’m going to bed, and I plan on sleeping in tomorrow. It’s the weekend, and I need a break from running the public relations gauntlet.
In between various FBI-related messes, Claire, Tinsley and I have answered unending questions—both on and off camera—about what our technology can do, what the implications are, and our future plans.
Mason tells us if we went public right now, we’d open at twenty-eight dollars a share. He believes with the current buzz, we’d split three times before we closed on the first day, and our shares would be worth over five hundred dollars each. That’s a lot of money for the three of us. Claire and I already have more money than we could ever spend, and Tinsley doesn’t seem particularly money motivated, as long as she can make her bills. I’d like us to do some angel funding. There are food banks across the US and Canada that need support. And maybe we should sit down with Jim’s fiancée, Kate, to talk about the best way to build a foundation. Kate is building an incredible program with Bullseye.
Life is good.
Tinsley shuffles through the mail and stops at a thick envelope, hand calligraphed with our names. “Someone’s getting married,” she says as she slices it open.
After a moment, a grin breaks out on her face. “We’re invited to a party at Caroline Arnault’s. Do you think she and Mason are going to elope in front of friends?”
“She’s been planning something for the spring in Italy,” I say. I’m too tired to think about it. “I’m going to bed. Come with me.” I hold my hand out for her, but Tinsley has been sucked in by her email on her phone.
“I’ll be right there. My mom has a question about our schedule.”
Tinsley told me not long ago that her mom had said she’d never marry again, but her boyfriend of something like sixteen years has told her she either needs to marry him or he’s moving on. I know exactly how he feels. I would prefer to have Tinsley make some sort of an official commitment to me. Then maybe once we have some kids, I’ll be able to get her to marry me. But we’ll make it work however she wants
