Marise sat. She didn’t reach for the menu yet. “How are you?” she asked softly.
Kathleen hesitated. “Alright. Better than the other night.”
“That’s good.”
“I wasn’t sure if I’d… scared you off.”
Marise smiled. “You didn’t.”
“Because I almost scared myself,” Kathleen added, then immediately winced. “That sounded dramatic. I meant?—”
“I know what you meant.” Marise let her voice stay steady, low. “You were overwhelmed. That’s not unusual.”
Kathleen nodded once, then picked up her menu as if that could shield her. “I thought it might be easier this time,” she said after a pause. “A public space. No expectations. Only dinner.”
Marise leaned back, studying her. “Dinner’s perfect.”
A waiter arrived and they placed their orders—nothing complicated. A glass of wine each. The specials of the evening.
When he left, they sat in a silence that wasn’t quite awkward, but not relaxed either.
“I almost didn’t book,” Kathleen said finally.
Marise tilted her head and regarded her curiously. “Why did you?”
“Because I didn’t want that to be the last time I saw you.”
Her honesty struck Marise more than she expected.
Kathleen straightened slightly, almost defensively. “I know I acted like a fool.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Kathleen’s fingers curled against the edge of her napkin. “I want to get better at this. At... people. I want to try again.”
Marise gave her a sympathetic look. “Then we’ll try again.”
Kathleen looked like she didn’t quite believe her. But her shoulders dropped a fraction. She reached for her wine, sipped once, then said, with a self-deprecating glance, “And I promise not to panic if you get too close.”
Marise smiled. “There’ll be no surprises.”
Kathleen didn’t speak again for several minutes. They sat there, quietly sitting across from each other. When she finally did, her voice was quiet, like she wasn’t sure if the words were for Marise or the room. “You asked about my work the other night,” she said, not looking at her. “I wasn’t trying to be evasive. I... don’t talk about it.”
Marise tilted her head. “Does anyone know? Your board?”
Kathleen shook her head. “They get summaries. Data sets. Sanitised versions. But the core algorithms and the structure of the cellular interface stay with me.”
Marise kept her expression neutral. Inside, her interest sharpened. “Not even your sponsors?”
Kathleen laughed. “Especially not them. They’re entrepreneurs not scientists.” She leaned forward with her fingers laced loosely. “What I’m building is a living system. And if it’s rushed, or manipulated...” She paused, then gave a small shake of her head. “It’s not ready. And the more people know, the more pressure I’ll get to scale it before it’s stable.”
Marise studied her carefully. “So, whodoesknow?”
Kathleen hesitated, then whispered. “Ted.”
“Ted?”
She nodded. “My assistant. He’s clumsy and a little too chatty, but he’s smart. I’ve been teaching him piece by piece. He’s the only one who understands how it works.”
