And for his flush bank accounts. It was also the one thing that could bring about his ruin in less than two months.
“Have something against medical earbuds?” He tried to press disinterest into his voice.
“Only if it’s a Medi-Spy.” She nudged the device farther away from her. “Those earbuds should be remarketed as a toy, not a medical alert device.”
He winced. “Really.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, looking less like a wannabe supermodel and more like a judge handing out a life sentence. “It gives faulty readings that send people to the ER unnecessarily, and it fails to recognize true emergencies in time.” Her frown deepened. “Then there’s also the totally unnecessary music feature and its sporadic connection with its own app and the dropped call rate.”
“It hasn’t exactly evolved in line with its original purpose,” Kyle allowed.
He knew the issues with his product, but he’d sold control of Medi-Spy to Tech Realized, Inc. without realizing he’d sold his soul, as well. With every royalty check he cashed, he watched the earbud become more commercialized to increase the profits. Bluetooth? Music options? He wasn’t sure he even remembered the heart of the design anymore.
“Anything else wrong with the device?” The harsh bite in his tone was self-directed. He expected her to identify him as a failure next. His reputation and Medi-Spy’s were closely linked.
“That’s only the highlights of the Medi-Spy’s faults.” She eased by him toward the ladder. “If you really want to see how often that particular earbud fails, ride along during one of my shifts. I’m a paramedic.”
“But you’re here,” he blurted out. “Don’t you mean past tense?” She was gorgeous. The green in her eyes matched the green in her sweater.
“You think I’m a professional model?” Her cheeks bloomed an attractive pink. Doubt, not confidence softened her voice. “I’m part of the local piece of the calendar.”
Before he could respond, she’d moved down the ladder, disappearing from his view. Kyle made his way off the scaffolding. Turning, he discovered his model hadn’t made it very far. A linebacker-size man and a copper-haired young boy blocked her path.
“I knew I should’ve waited to use the bathroom.” The boy shoved his bangs off his forehead. “What did we miss, Aunty Ava? Did someone fall off the platform and crack their head open?”
Excitement rushed the boy’s speech. The linebacker scanned the floor and frowned.
“Nothing that dramatic, I’m afraid.” Ava stepped sideways and bumped into Kyle.
He grinned at her and remained in her space. Perhaps not the most polite reaction, but he didn’t feel like moving away from her. They were almost on a first-name basis. At least now he knew her name.
The boy’s gaze widened, revealing eyes shades deeper than Ava’s pale green gaze. The boy’s eyes were the color of an avocado skin, Ava’s the color of the inside. Kyle rubbed his forehead. He’d scaled a scaffolding and returned to his bumbling adolescence. Comparing eye color to fruit was definitely his cue to leave. And eat. Clearly, he was hungry, or he wouldn’t have compared Ava’s eyes to an avocado. An avocado. He kept his lips firmly sealed.
The boy tugged on the linebacker’s arm with one hand and pointed at Kyle with the other. “Dad. That’s Kyle Quinn. He’s the inventor guy.”
Ava reached over and pushed Ben’s arm down. “Ben, it’s not polite to point.”
“But he invented the Medi-Spy.” Awe clouded Ben’s face and voice, lengthening the word spy into several syllables.
Ava looked at Kyle, her gaze assessing. “He doesn’t look famous.”
Kyle resisted the urge to smooth his hands over his button-down shirt as if to prove he concealed nothing. He never liked to be scrutinized at any depth beyond the surface, and Ava analyzed. Kyle shrugged instead of asking Ava for the results of her analysis. “He’s right. I’m the Medi-Spy inventor.”
“I hate to tell you this, but...I stand behind my earlier comments.” She straightened and locked her gaze with his. “Your device has too many features. It’s confused about what it is, like some teenager trying to figure out who they want to be when they grow up.”
No apology. No pleasure to meet you. No retreat. Kyle discovered his first real smile that morning. He liked his paramedic-turned-model even more. He reached over, shook hands with the linebacker and learned Dan was Ava’s partner in the ambulance, the boy his ten-year-old son, Ben. And according to Ben, Ava had earned the title Aunt, not because they shared blood. Rather, Ava was family from the heart.
Ben extended his arm toward Kyle, mimicking his father. Kyle noticed the paracord band wrapped around the boy’s thin wrist. Its silver medical-alert plate all too familiar. Kyle felt the shift of the titanium links of his own medical-alert band across his own wrist. He’d worn some form of a medical-alert bracelet since he’d started walking. He wondered how long Ben had his and gripped the boy’s hand in a firm handshake.
Ben’s grin spread toward his ears. “Wait until the kids at school find out I met a real famous person.”
Soon, Kyle might be famous for being a hack. For losing everything because he had no new ideas. Without a second idea, he’d fail to fulfill his contract. The penalties were stiff and unforgiving. That definitely wasn’t the type of notoriety he wanted. He shouldn’t still be here. He needed to get back to his office and create something. A new invention to rival the Medi-Spy earbud. The execs at Tech Realized, Inc. would accept nothing less.
“Hey, I was chosen to be a part of this celebrity calendar, too.” Ava’s arm brushed against Kyle as she reached to tug on Ben’s hair. “You already know me.”
Kyle wanted to know more about Ava. She had a bold confidence that he admired. But getting to know a woman better couldn’t be his focus right now. He needed to stop distracting himself. His mother would tell him to quit procrastinating. If only it was that easy. If only he wasn’t stuck as if he stood on a high dive, too afraid to jump. Too afraid to trust in his swimming skills. Fearful he’d sink, because Medi-Spy was exactly what Ava painted it—a failure.
“But Mr. Quinn is in the papers and magazines at least once a week,” Ben argued. “And you aren’t.”
The photo ops were a side effect. Definitely not Kyle’s choice. But that was the unwritten part of signing a seven-figure contract and launching a bestselling product. His celebrity had been instantaneous. It had been handed to him and he’d been trying to hand it back ever since. Standing out never suited him.
He’d stood out in school for several reasons, from his scrawny stature to more serious offenses, like his preference for the science lab over the football field. But he’d grown into his height, filled out and tipped well now. Still that awkward kid with the deadly nut allergy—the one that had forced him to sit at the peanut-free table every school lunch—lingered inside him and cringed with every camera flash. “Your dad and aunt save lives. That’s the real-life hero stuff that means more than any picture in any gossip page.”
“Still, you get to meet other famous people. I’ve seen the pictures on the internet.” Ben edged closer to Kyle. His gaze shifted back and forth between his dad and Kyle. “If I
