Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(78)

Slowly he eased away from Justine’s slender body and left the bed. He dressed in the semidarkness, grabbed his phone, and went out to the patio. After closing the glass doors, he made a call.

He heard Sage answer. “Hello?”

“Sage,” he said quietly. “It’s Jason. Justine’s friend.”

“What a delightful surprise.”

“I’m afraid you’re not going to find it delightful after I tell you what I’ve done. Do you have a few minutes? It’s important.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can you put Rosemary on the line, as well?”

Sage put him on hold and went to find her partner.

As Jason waited, he knew he was going to have to confess everything to the elderly women, including the fact that he’d borrowed … stolen … the Triodecad from Justine.

He rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers as if to erase the self-loathing thoughts. It was one thing to rationalize your actions in the privacy of your own mind. But when you had to explain your actions to someone else, they became a lot harder to justify.

He heard Rosemary’s voice. “Is there a problem with Justine?” she asked without preliminaries.

“Yes. I think she’s in danger because of me. I’m sure of it. I need you both to help me put things right.”

* * *

The private cocktail party was held at a penthouse suite of the convention hotel, while tournaments and demonstrations took place in the massive banquet rooms below the lobby. A floor-to-ceiling wall of glass revealed a view of the port’s Embarcadero redevelopment project, with pavilions, parks, and a waterfront promenade.

Justine felt comfortable in the unpretentious atmosphere of the party. The crowd consisted of San Diego locals and people in the video-game industry, all of whom seemed friendly and down-to-earth. Some were dressed in designer fashions, some in T-shirts and khakis. Justine was grateful to Zoë for having insisted on packing the little black dress—it was perfect for an evening like this.

“I didn’t think I was going to be able to talk with anyone,” she told Jason. “I expected the conversation was going to be way too technical, or that people would be standoffish. But so far they’ve all been incredibly nice.”

“It’s usually that way at conventions,” Jason replied, smiling into her upturned face. “We all spend so much solitary time in front of the computer that hanging out with real people feels like we’ve been let out of the basement.”

A laughing young woman’s voice added, “It’s why I refer to my computer as my square-headed boyfriend.” The woman and two men, all of whom appeared to be in their twenties, had approached them.

“She refers to her actual boyfriend that way, too,” one of them said. His face was narrow and foxlike, his eyes bright with good humor. “I’m Ross McCray”—he reached out to shake Jason’s hand—“and these are my coworkers, Marlie Trevino and Troy Noggs.”

As they each shook Jason’s hand in turn, Marlie, a sturdy, rosy-cheeked blonde, said in a stage whisper, “We all work for Valiant Interactive.”

Jason regarded them speculatively. “You guys have a game scheduled for release next month. Shadow Justice, if I’m not mistaken. The buzz is good.”

The trio looked thrilled. “I’m a character artist,” Ross said, “and these two are programmers.”

“This is Justine Hoffman,” Jason said, sliding an arm around her shoulders. “A very close friend. She owns a bed-and-breakfast in the San Juans.”

“Cool,” Marlie exclaimed, shaking Justine’s hand. “Is this your first gaming convention? Take my advice—never go down to the meeting rooms completely sober. And do not, under any circumstances, sit in any of the beanbag chairs in the tournament room.”

For a few minutes Jason listened as the trio described some of the graphical problems that had delayed the game’s original launch date, and their worries over fans’ reactions about having to download a patch the first time the game was played.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Jason said. “If a day-one patch makes the gaming experience better, they’ll bitch for five minutes and then they’ll forget about it.” He looked down at Justine. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“White wine, please.”

Glancing at the other woman, Jason asked, “Would you like a drink, Marlie?”

She seemed pleased and surprised by the offer. “Thanks, yes. I’d love to try one of those blue drinks I’ve seen people carrying around.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Marlie was nearly preening as Jason went to the bar. Turning back to Justine, she said, “Oh, my God. I just met Jason Black and he’s getting me a drink. I’m having a total fan-girl moment.”

“I’d always heard he was a genius in the body of a male model,” Ross said, perfectly deadpan, “but I just don’t see it.”

“That’s because you’re blinded by his charisma,” Troy said.

“It’s not like he’s a rock star,” Justine said, laughing.

“He’s more than that,” Troy said. “He’s a legend.” Seeing her reaction, he said, “No, seriously. Cult-figure level.”