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can’t possibly know Trent well enough to make a commitment like—”
    “But that’s why we’re having it done. To get to know each other better. The EED—”
    “Save it,” Kathleen said. “You can tell me at supper. Aunt Oona’s having the whole family over for Irish stew and crubeens.”
    And a session of the Irish Inquisition,
Briddey thought. “I can’t. Trent—”
    “Is in meetings till ten tonight,” Kathleen said. “Aunt Oona already called his secretary, so you can’t get out of it by claiming he’s taking you to dinner. Supper’s at six.”
    She left, only to return a moment later to say plaintively, “I really should break up with Chad, shouldn’t I?”
    “Yes,” Briddey said.
    “You’re right. See you at Aunt Oona’s. And may Saint Patrick protect ye on your journey, mavourneen,” Kathleen said gaily, and left.
    It was ten fifty, and Briddey needed to check C.B.’s memory stick before the meeting to make sure it didn’t have his Sanctuary phone proposal or some other crazy anti-communication thing on it. She started for her office, only to be waylaid by Lorraine from Marketing, who wanted to tell her how wonderful she thought it was that she and Trent were getting the EED. “How did you manage to talk him into it?” she asked.
    “I didn’t. It was Trent’s idea.”
    “You’re kidding! How? Most guys won’t even admit they
have
feelings, let alone let anyone else see them. Gina—you know, Rahul Deshnev’s assistant?—had to practically blackmail Greg into getting theirs. She said it was worth it, though, that she’s never been happier or more relaxed.”
    That’s because she doesn’t have to be somewhere right now,
Briddey thought, and said, “I’m late for a meeting—”
    “I’m going to it, too,” Lorraine said, steering her down toward the conference room. “Gina was afraid it might not work. She thought Greg might be cheating on her, and to tell you the truth, so did I. Suki told me—”
    Briddey pulled back. “I just remembered, I need to run by my office and tell my assistant something.”
    “You don’t have time. We’re already late,” Lorraine said, taking her arm. “So, anyway, we were wrong. Greg wasn’t involved with someone else, because they connected, and she says things have never been more perfect. No more misunderstandings or misread cues or secrets. Oh, look, everyone’s here already.”
    They were, and the first order of business was C.B.’s proposal, so Briddey didn’t have a chance to look at it before she gave it to Trent. Fortunately, it wasn’t C.B.’s Sanctuary phone—or his Hook, Line, and Sinker app. It was a design for one called TalkPlus, which made it possible to carry on two phone conversations simultaneously. “No more having to put someone on hold or tell them you’ll call them back, and no more saying, ‘Sorry, I have to take this call,’ or ‘I’m afraid I can’t talk right now.’ With TalkPlus, you’ll be able to communicate with everyone all the time.”
    Very funny, C.B.,
Briddey thought, but everyone else loved the concept, including Trent, who texted her from across the table, “This is just what we need. Thanks for getting it out of him. Have you filled out Dr V forms yet?”
    She texted him back, “I’ll do it right after the meeting,” and he responded, “Better not wait. Meeting could take awhile.”
    He was right. They immediately began making suggestions for how to adapt TalkPlus to make more than two conversations possible. The discussion lasted nearly two hours, resulting in them having lunch sent in and Briddey’s being able to fill out Dr. Verrick’s first questionnaire, even though it asked everything from her medical history to her food preferences, hair and eye color, and hobbies.
    She finished the form and refocused on the meeting to find Art Sampson saying, “I like the TalkPlus, but will it be enough to compete with this phone of Apple’s? I mean, we’re a small company. If the