Page 99 of The Grump I Loathe

“So…” Noah said after a beat. “That was weird, right?”

“I am so confused.” But I didn’t have time to unpack whatever Ryker’s drama was. “Clearly, I need to stop dating in the industry.”

Noah agreed, and we hurried down the aisle to the hall, slipping into a couple empty seats just in time for the speech to start. My breath hitched as Connor walked across the stage. I kind of figured I’d be over a guy in a suit by now, but dammit, he looked good.

Really freaking good.

Oh damn, was he wearing a red tie? I didn’t realize he owned one that wasn’t some sort of gray.

My mind shifted to autopilot, replaying memories of that smile, those eyes, the heated way he used to look at me when I was naked in his bed. My heart lurched in my chest.

Noah nudged me as Connor rambled on in that uptight, serious way of his, a bland, gray slideshow flashing behind him. “Kinda boring so far,” he whispered.

“Ha, yeah. He still needs to learn how to land a joke,” I muttered, but I didn’t really have it in me to drag Connor for his speech. Not when I’d known therealhim. The one that could take a joke. The one that could be tempted onto the dance floor. The one that sang along to pop music at the top of his lungs while Grace and I made pancakes. I swallowed hard, trying not to be strangled by my own emotions.

“LockMill has recently been making big moves in the industry,” Connor said, “but what I’m most proud of is the industry culture that we’re aiming to shift.”

I perked up as I noticed the tone of the speech changing.

“LockMill recently purchased the studio that distributed an indie game calledLethal Deception,” Connor continued.

What?I leaned forward, clinging to the back of the chair in front of me.

“You know that game?” Noah whispered.

“I worked on it with Ryker. He totally cut me out of the credits.”

“Dick.”

“We’ve recently altered the credits to accurately reflect the work that went into this standout game,” Connor said to the crowd.

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

“This is the beginning of a program LockMill is spearheading to re-credit designers and developers who were left out of their own projects,” Connor announced. “Lethal Deceptionis just the beginning.”

There was a thunderous round of applause in the hall.

I sank back in my chair, speechless for a moment.

“Is that why Ryker was so pissed?” Noah asked.

“Maybe…Yeah, probably.” A smile stretched across my face. Good. I hoped that jerkwad felt humiliated in front of our peers.

“In light of that new mission,” Connor said, his voice ringing out. “The Juni Protocol from LockMill’s latest release is being renamed the Sheppard Protocol.” The slide behind him changed, my picture appearing on the screen.

My jaw dropped.Double holy shit.

Noah’s jaw dropped too. “Did he just?—”

“Work like this starts at home,” Connor told the audience, “and I think averyimportant member of the development team deserves more than an in-game credit for the work she did on guiding the vision for thisprotocol. It was Edith Sheppard’s creativity and dedication that made the new protocol so successful, and I think that deserves a massive round of applause.”

My smile immediately died. Averyimportant member of the team? Really. Was that all I was to him? Anger warmed in my chest.

“You okay?” Noah asked.

I wondered if he could hear me grinding my teeth. “After everything, this is what he sees as fighting for me?” I hissed. “Clicking through gray slides, reciting corporate talking points to a roomful of strangers?” It was so distant and detached, I almost wanted to laugh, except nothing about it was funny.

Noah looked unsure of what to say next. The audience started clapping again, signaling the end of the speech, and I shot to my feet.