“This climb matters too much to us. We can't afford a single slip-up.”
He used his most reasonable voice to make his most lopsided decision.
“And if I don't hand it over?” I leaned back into my chair.
Austin's hand went still.
“Beatrice, don't be difficult.” His voice turned cold.
“This is work. The route guide's in your hands, but are you the one going up?”
“Julie's lead climber. She's the one out front who needs it. You should know that better than anyone.”
I watched him sit there so righteously sure of himself, and nothing in me stirred at all.
“Fine.” I pulled out the flash drive and tossed it on the table.
The metal casing hit the glass with a sharp click.
“Every source file's on there.”
Julie's eyes lit up. She reached over and snatched it at once.
“Thank you, Bea! I knew you'd always put the bigger picture first.”
Austin's expression eased too, his gaze even carrying a trace of approval.
“That's more like it. There's a sponsor dinner tonight. Go home and get ready. Dress decently.”
I stood, walked to my own workstation, and opened my laptop.
I clicked the folder I'd named “Safety Line.”
Inside were three years of route plans, weather analyses, and emergency protocols, all of them done for Austin.
Select all. Delete. Empty the recycle bin.
I shut the laptop and slid it into my bag.
Austin watched, his brow drawing together slightly.
“What do you need the laptop for?”
“Getting it repaired.” I headed for the door without looking back. “Seven tonight. I'll be there on time.”
The dinner was at a private club downtown.
When I pushed open the door to the room, the drinking was already in full swing.
Austin sat in the seat of honor, trading easy laughs with a few sponsors.
Julie sat beside him, wearing the co-branded shell jacket that should have been mine.
When he saw me come in, Austin pointed at the empty seat in the far corner.
“Sit there.”
I went over and sat down.
After a few rounds of wine, Julie carried her glass over to me.
“Bea, this one's for you.”
“Thank you for all the quiet support you've given Austin these three years. From now on…… my cousin will be taking over the logistics, so you can finally take it easy.”
Her smile was all innocence. Then her wrist tipped, all at once.
The dark red wine landed precisely on my old mountaineering boots.
Austin had bought them for me three years ago, with his first month of part-time wages.
He'd said these boots could carry me anywhere I wanted to go.
Now a wide, glaring stain of red bled across the leather.
“Oh no! I'm so sorry, so sorry! I didn't mean to. Bea, are you all right?”
Julie cried out and yanked out a tissue, but what she wiped was her own wine-flecked fingers.
For a moment the room went quiet.
Austin stood, frowning, came over, took the tissue from Julie's hand, and carefully dabbed at her fingertips.
“How were you so careless? You're not hurt?”
Only once he'd confirmed Julie was fine did he turn his head and give me a flat glance.
“Go clean up in the restroom. Don't spoil the mood here.”
I looked at him, said nothing, stood, and walked out of the room.
In the restroom, the wine had already soaked into the suede. No amount of rubbing would get it out.
Like certain things. Once they're ruined, they're just ruined.
I threw away the tissue and looked at the woman in the mirror, pale-faced, calm-eyed.
I straightened my collar, turned, and walked back to the room.
I pushed open the door. Austin was clinking glasses with Daryl, one of the sponsors.
“Don't worry, Daryl. That outdoor community account, Above the Snowline, will be run by Julie herself from now on.”
“She's more of a professional. She can bring the brand far more exposure.”
I stopped in the doorway.
Above the Snowline was the independent account I'd built from nothing over three years.
Three hundred thousand real followers, every one of them earned through the hard, hands-on guides I'd written, one post at a time.
It was the only thing in my hands that wasn't tied under Austin's studio.
When Julie saw me, she instantly switched on a sweet smile.
“Bea, Austin says he's handing that account over to me to run. Don't worry, I'll take good care of it. I won't waste all the work you put into it.”
Austin turned to look at me, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Hand over the account password and the back-end access to Julie tomorrow. That account of yours has hit a plateau. It needs Julie's personal brand to carry it.”
“It's for the overall good of the studio, too.”
He looked at me, his gaze full of certainty.
He was convinced I'd give in, just like I had every single time over the past three years.
I walked up to Austin, took a white envelope from my pocket, and set it on the lazy Susan in front of him.
“What's this?” Austin frowned.
