Chapter One #2
She felt guilty as soon as that came out of her mouth because she could only assume that he’d hired an external conscience for social time in part because the commentary on him being AI rather than a human being made him feel bad.
She didn’t want to make him feel bad.
Maybe that was a little bit silly, since most of the time Alex didn’t care about making other people feel bad.
Or rather, to be fair, he didn’t notice when he did.
Theoretically he was trying to learn—that was why she’d been hired.
But often she wondered if she was making much of a difference beyond their lunches.
But he was... He wasn’t like anyone she had ever known, and she had learned a lot from him. About technology and business, innovation. She...respected him.
She liked him.
Even when he was being ridiculous.
“I have a board meeting on Friday,” he said.
He changed the subject so swiftly and abruptly it nearly gave her whiplash.
“About?”
“Attracting new investors ahead of the next product launch.”
“I mean, it’s a sensationally slick product. An AI assistant that uses less energy, and also learns from resources that actually gave consent is a really big deal. Not to mention it functions incredibly well.”
“You really think the average consumer cares about the ethics of it?”
“Yes.”
“They don’t. They talk about it, they pretend to care and then they all pick their phones up like everyone else and never give a thought to how much energy is harvested to power that little square that lives in their pockets.”
“You think all of humanity is hypocritical then?”
“I think at the intersection of convenience and ethics convenience often wins. But where I really do believe the product could succeed is that it is exceptionally convenient still. It’s not the salability that concerns me, it’s the fact that investors have been scarce in the past year, after that video went viral of me. ..”
“Breaking that kid’s phone after he stuck it in your face?”
“He wasn’t a kid, he was your age. And also, I clearly didn’t break it well enough, because there’s a video of the entire thing. From that point of view.”
“Yes. It did not help humanize you.” She paused. “Though at least they called you the Terminator after that instead of Data.”
It had been an uncharacteristic display of temper, though it had even had that same robotic, measured manner about it. He hadn’t yelled or shouted. He’d simply taken the phone and thrown it to the ground while continuing on his way.
“I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, but it’s becoming a problem with investors. Which infuriates me.” He said that with the same measured tone he’d been using the whole time.
She had to hold back a laugh. “I can see that. You’re positively simmering with rage.”
He had said all of it in the same calm voice. He didn’t seem outraged in the least. Except for the burning embers in his dark eyes.
She knew him well enough to know that she needed to be somewhat careful when he got that look.
She had never seen Alex in a full temper, but she knew that the potential for it existed. And she was nothing if not an expert at avoiding explosions of temper, tamping them down and keeping them from ever occurring.
“At least the video proves that you’re not AI,” she pointed out. She had a feeling it was not the least bit helpful. And the irritated look that Alex gave her proved that theory.
“That was not a serious rumor,” he said.
“It was,” she said softly.
“So it’s more believable that I was created in a data mine by an advanced learning module than that I’m a rich man who prefers to keep to himself and stay away from social gatherings?”
“Well. I don’t want you to get an inflated ego, but the thing is, you are young.
..sort of, and you’re extremely good-looking.
Obviously people expect that you would take the money that you’ve earned and spend it ostentatiously on parties and yachts.
With yacht girls. Or yacht boys, if that’s what you’re into.
” She looked at him, and tried to see if there was any reaction to either proposed yacht person.
That was the strangest thing about Alex.
In a world that made privacy next to impossible—with cell phones and algorithm-based social media taking small moments and putting them on a world stage on the daily, he remained relatively private.
Unknowable. Except of course he had been caught being angry at an obnoxious moron, and somehow had been painted as the bad guy.
Well, she knew how. He was the billionaire.
The power differential was clear, et cetera et cetera.
The expectation that somebody who had a public-facing persona—sort of—was a public commodity was one that Verity didn’t agree with, but that didn’t make it any less real.
“What do you mean sort of young?”
“Well, you are in your thirties.”
He didn’t quite scowl, but he was very close.
“I need you to come to the board meeting,” he said.
“Of course I’ll be there. It’s my job.”
“Yes,” he said, in total and complete confirmation.
There was something so final and intense about it, he might as well have been agreeing that he owned her in some capacity beyond work, because for some reason she felt like he had. Like there was something deeper than a work contract between them, when she knew there wasn’t.
“I’m very helpful,” Verity said, and she was teasing him, but part of her wanted him to agree. “I bet you feel better for having eaten a salad.”
“I will feel better if I have a steak to follow it up.”
“You’re ridiculous. You don’t need that much red meat midday.”
He lifted a dark brow, and leaned back in his chair, which gave her full view of his rather muscular, perfectly hard torso.
The crisp white shirt underneath his black jacket did not hide the structure of the musculature there; rather it turned into a sort of tease that appealed to her more than she wished it did.
She wrinkled her nose. “Are you trying to make a point?” she asked.
“Do you take a point by my posture? If so, then I suppose it is made.”
“If you’re trying to make the point that you having no body fat and well-defined muscles means that you don’t need to watch what you eat, then you are woefully behind in regards to your education on health and nutrition.”
“Which is another indication that I’m not AI.”
“Why is that?”
“I would’ve been programmed with the latest data.”
“More likely you would have eight fingers on one hand, but sure.”
That actually did make him smile. It was never a full smile with teeth and crinkling eyes, nothing half so demonstrative with Alex.
No. And so she took these rare, small flexes of the corners of his mouth as priceless gems. Because they were.
And she had to remind herself yet again that their connection was boss and employee.
That he wasn’t really her friend. They never did anything outside of work, after all.
They would be an improbable match in that regard.
She tried to imagine it. She thought of the things that she used to do at home with her friends.
Imagined going through a drive-through coffee stand with Alex, and then going to the mall.
It almost made her laugh out loud, but she held it back, because if she laughed, then she would have to explain herself to him.
“You are going to ask Stavros on a date,” he said.
And yet again, his abrupt subject changes, which clearly came from some shift in his brain, invisible, sharp and beyond the understanding of everyone else, like all of his innovations, just about made her head spin.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to.”
“You are going to wait and see if he’s interested in you first?”
Verity scrunched her face. “No. Because I think that’s outdated. I like him, so why play games?”
“I agree with you. It’s only that I’m given to understand that games are an essential part of romance.”
“Do you...often play games when it comes to romance?” She was skirting around the edges of off-limits topics.
Well, actually this wasn’t in the list of things they couldn’t talk about; it had just always felt like she shouldn’t talk about relationships with her boss.
Also, it had never come up, since she’d never been in one, or even attempted to be until now.
Something flickered in his dark eyes, another near-imperceptible lift of his brow. “No. I don’t. I don’t have time for games. If I want sex I can have sex without romance.”
Her face went very hot, and she wanted to go back and have never heard that word exit his mouth.
She wanted to lecture him about boundaries.
But this was the problem. They had personal conversations, she had brought up the subject of dating and she had asked him about his personal romantic life.
The truth was, she worked for him, but two years of lunches put them in a space that was not entirely professional.
No matter how much they should remain so.
“Spoken like an AI,” she muttered, picking up her salad bowl and reaching out for his. He handed it to her without a second thought. Because yes, during lunch hour she was his...something. But after that she was an assistant. Of course genius hands like his did not wash dishes.
“Thank you for the salad,” he said.
It was so shocking that it stopped her in her tracks. She felt something like pleasure bloom at the center of her chest. “You’re welcome,” she said.
“Verity,” he said, before she walked out, his use of her first name rather than the more common Cricket as shocking as the thanks.
“Yes?”
“The board meeting is in London. I’ve added some money to your expense account for new clothing, so why don’t you spend the rest of the day preparing.”
And while she should have spent the rest of the day planning how she might approach asking Stavros on a date, instead, as she browsed through the high-end shopping boutiques in Kolonaki, she heard Alex’s thank you echoing in her head.