I rolled my eyes. Even when he claimed to be on his best behavior, he still had to get his jabs in. This whole flirting between us started soon after our parents had gotten married, and while I could sense the seriousness of his words, I also knew there was no one in the world I felt safer with than my stepbrother. He usually didn’t even hide his antics from our parents. They seemed to ignore it after a while. Regardless, Wesley had always been the one to protect me, and he always looked out for me when boyfriends would push too far or when I was in any kind of trouble.
“Wes, you wouldn’t know what to do even if you did have a chance,” I teased back, knowing what I said was far from the truth. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Wes was experienced in the bedroom, but it still broke the ice and helped me relax into the embrace. “Besides, I would have thought those Eastern European girls would have worn you out. I heard they have a thing for American bad boys.”
“You know me better than that. I don’t tire out, I’m like the energizer bunny. But in all seriousness, my job description these days isn’t as sexy as it used to be,” Wesley teased back, letting his arm remain around my shoulders. “I mean, what girl doesn’t want a guy who can code in four different languages?”
“Please, I doubt there was much talking, and there certainly was no explanation of your job description.”
In all honesty, I’ve always been proud of Wesley’s determination to make his own way in the world, enlisting for a five year term instead of using his father’s money to go to college. Becoming a Ranger, he had taken college courses in his spare time. He actually had two years of his degree finished before his enlistment was up, and afterward, he finished the remaining two years in eighteen months.
That’s Wesley. He lives hard and relaxes hard too, disappearing during his vacations for weeks at a time, out of contact with the rest of the world. “So, how many Olgas and Svetlanas was it?”
“None at all,” Wesley said, and I could hear at least some truth in his voice, with something underneath that I couldn’t quite put my finger on at the time. Wes checked to see that Mom and Gerald were debating what to watch over the Netflix feed before leaning in and whispering in my ear. “I’d rather have a Robin, anyway.”
“Not much meat on a robin,” I replied, intentionally ignoring his innuendo. “Wouldn’t you rather have a chicken or a duck instead?”
Wesley looked at me intently, like he wanted to say something else, when Gerald punched a button on the remote to the television, and the next program started. I patted his hand and regretfully lifted it off my shoulder. “Come on, if we don’t watch, you know your father is going to bug us about it at dinner.”
* * *
After enjoying roast beef, mashed potatoes, asparagus and gravy in the dining room, the family was waiting for dessert when I brought up my suspension. I explained the whole situation before passing the letter over to Gerald, who silently read the memo. “And you did nothing wrong, Robin?” he finally asked, passing the letter to Mom. “You’ve seemed a bit off since you broke up with . . . Todd, was it?”
“Tom, and yes, I’m sure of it. I reviewed both my notebooks and the briefing handouts I gave the military, and I know that I specifically said not to take the drone into a turn that sharp. While the PR packet said that the drone was supposed to perfectly mimic a bat in terms of maneuverability, a bat can do that because it weighs one pound and is six inches long, not sixteen feet long and weighing three hundred pounds. And how was I supposed to know he’d pull a stunt like that right above the flight line, crashing it into an F-22?”
“Ah well, I never could stand the Air Force anyway,” Wesley joked from his seat across the table. “Give me a Warrant Officer in an Apache over anything the Air Force can send me any day.”
“So what are you going to do?” Mom asked as Chef brought out slices of rich chocolate mousse pie for everyone. Topped with a dollop of whipped cream, it was Mom’s favorite, a passion I also inherited from her. I’m a dedicated chocoholic, and was glad that Chef only bought the best, Ghirardelli being my personal weakness. “This doesn’t sound like the sort of suspension that will get a fair shake. Someone’s head is going to be on the chopping block for this, if only to save everyone else’s butts.”
“I know, Mom. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. You know my skills are in demand. If anything, I’ll go into business for myself. It’s about time I do what I really want to do anyway.” It had long been a dream of mine to build a fully functional humanoid exoskeleton that would have industrial as well as medical applications.
“Ah yes, your Iron Man suit,” Gerald said. While the term was a joke, Gerald had made his fortune in medical devices and encouraged me at every turn with my dream. I’m sure that if I had asked him, he would have been an angel venture capitalist for me with no question at all. “So what about making a version for your brother? Just have to make it bulletproof and armed.”