Page 35 of Balance

Troye shook his head. “I don’t want to get in the way. Jett made it sound like it was an emergency.”

I let my hand rest on the small of Troye’s back and steered him to the right. Jett’s office was located at the other end of the long hallway. A series of offices and conference rooms lined the hall. Most people had their doors open, but it was the action in one of the conference rooms that got Troye’s attention.

“They’re storyboarding right now,” I supplied, letting him linger at the window. They were an energetic bunch, and even through the closed door I could hear Trudy interrupting Xena, as usual. “We should go before they demand a tiebreaker or a blood sacrifice.”

I guided Troye away from the room before the sharks got the scent of fresh blood.

I loved my creative team, but their intensity was overpowering sometimes.

“We can stop back in later if you want to see what they’re working on.”

“Aren’t you worried about me stealing company secrets or anything?” Troye whispered his question like it might possibly be a concern for me.

“I’m not worried about that,” I told him as I led us ever closer to Jett’s office. Now, Jett was something I worried about because Jett liked things to be a certain way. His attention to detail was part of the reason I hired him. His ability to be consistent was another, but he could be a bit of an alarmist sometimes. Unlike the boy who cried wolf, Jett was the man who screamed about impending doom. Unavoidable crises. They were mostly always avoidable, though. But I’d learned to never take his foresight for granted. The man’s brain worked in a different way than mine, making him able to be five steps ahead at all times.

“If he offers you gum, don’t accept,” I warned Troye before knocking on the door to Jett’s office.

“Unless it’s Matt, go away.”

I looked at Troye and offered him a reassuring smile. “He’s friendly, I promise.”

“That’s the kind of thing dog owners say right before Cujo tries to eat your face.”

“Think less Cujo and more Lady and the Tramp.” I opened the door and ushered Troye inside.

Jett was the human embodiment of a stray dog who’d landed on their feet. His dark hair was wild and made him look like he’d just rolled out of bed. But it always looked like that. The unruly strands were thin like spun sugar, but there was an abundance of them.

“You said there was an emergency, and that I had to come in even though I had the day off.”

Jett didn’t even look up, he just waved me over. “Come look at this.”

Jett’s gaze barely flicked up to look at Troye. “Is he safe?”

“I’m not here to steal state secrets if that’s what you were wondering,” Troye said at the same time that I said it was fine. Troye tried to step away, but I pulled him closer, letting it be known to him, and to Jett, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Where’s the fire, Jett?”

“Astro just dropped a new game teaser. And it’s good. It’s really fucking good.” Jett tapped a few buttons on his keyboard. “And it’s our game.”

He pressed play on the video and while the graphics and the name of the game was different from ours, the concept clearly was the same. It wasn’t like we owned or invented the concept of dungeon crawlers, but this particular idea had been innovative. Part dungeon crawler, part escape room, it had combined elements of both types of games to create something fresh and new.

At least it had been fresh and new.

“Is this a coincidence, or do we have a spy in the company?” My stomach clenched, feeling sour. I hated the idea that someone I hired might be stealing from me.

“Uh, it could be neither. Or it could be the other way around.” Troye spoke up, earning him Jett’s undivided attention.

“Explain,” he barked, spinning his chair to face Troye. Jett had the kind of hard stare that could make a walnut crack itself, but Troye didn’t even flinch.

“Well, just because the concept hasn’t been made into reality yet, it doesn’t mean that Gemstone invented it and someone took the idea. It’s possible that the idea originated in game forums and developers from different companies saw an opportunity. Especially if the idea was getting traction online.”

Jett leaned back in his chair and eyed Troye. “And who are you?”

“I’m—”

“He’s mine,” I told Jett. “I’m trying to convince him to formally consult on the foster project.”

Jett’s features softened, as much as they ever did. The man was a bear in every sense of the word, from body to attitude. And I might have gushed about Troye to him because Jett was not only my right-hand man at Gemstone, he was also my best friend.