Code of Conduct by P. A. DePaul

Author:P. A. DePaul [DePaul, P. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Northfair Publishing

9

Ted marched through the five-star French restaurant, Le Abri, barely perceiving the wood, wrought iron, embellished glass, and linens blending to make up its lavish décor. His focus narrowed to one thing: reach Doreen and beg for forgiveness for running behind schedule on their first date. If the maître d’ didn’t hurry up, he’d grab the man’s tuxedo-clad shoulders, push him out of the way, and start running until he found her.

Usually, a person had to wait weeks before securing a table at the ultra-trendy restaurant, but Ted had asked Romeo for help, and somehow the man had delivered.

“Here you are, sir.” The maître d’ stepped aside and waved toward an intimate, white-clothed table sporting fresh fall flowers in a bud vase and two pillar candles burning.

Doreen snapped her head up from staring at her phone, then her eyebrows shot up. She pushed her chair back and stood uncertainly. “Ted?”

His brain short-circuited, the disconnect having nothing to do with the aching, throbbing pain constantly with him all day. After the initial doses at the hospital, he’d refused to take any pain medication, needing all his faculties to write the code for the complex program he planned to deploy tomorrow to catch the entire web of The Institution locations. That, and he wanted to remember the first date with his future bride.

“You look amazing,” he breathed, swallowing against his suddenly dry mouth. The silky, dark-purple dress tastefully hugged her curves and brought out the jade in her irises. She had swept her hair up in a twisty arrangement and added long, dangling earrings that brushed against her skin with each movement. “I mean, wow.”

A blush stole over her cheeks and she grinned before confusion swept over her expression again. “Ted, you, uh, look... different.”

He ducked his head and nodded. “Yeah.” Touching his face, he lifted his eyes to explain. “Um. I didn’t want to embarrass you on our first date, so I asked Mag—April to dip into her theater background and work her stage makeup magic.”

“She fixes computers, is scarily good at self-defense, and knows how to do cosmetic makeovers?” Doreen studied the makeup expertly applied to hide the gruesome bruises that had darkened overnight.

Ted fiddled with the button on the suit Romeo had helped him buy the other day. “Yeah. She, uh, has quite a few skills.” He captured her hand. “I am so sorry I’m late. Between this”—he motioned to his face with his free hand— “and coding a multi-layered program from scratch that has to be ready by tomorrow morning, I lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

Doreen squeezed his palm. “You’re only a few minutes late.” Her blush deepened. “I, um, might have gotten here a bit early, which is not your fault . . .”

The vise clamping around Ted’s chest sprang free and he inhaled with relief. “I looked forward to seeing you all day too.”

“Here you are, sir, madam,” the maître d’ intoned just behind Ted.

Doreen’s mouth slammed shut and she blinked. “Hey,” she leaned forward and whispered.

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