Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
Miller
Business meetings. Partner meetings. And phone call after phone call.
I have not left the confines of this building and every part of me is itching to call Denise.
Instead, I forced Jackson to head out for sushi and I couldn’t be more relaxed.
My arm drapes over the back of the booth as my other hand traces the condensation on my beer glass.
“I haven’t heard from you in the past few nights. Are you sick?” Jackson sets his chop stocks down and leans forward.
“Sick?” I question.
“You have had a knack for calling me pretty much every night to run a concept by me for the past few years, but my phone has gone silent. So, I just assumed you were sick and finally getting your body some rest.”
“I rest,” I reply with defiance.
“Barely.” He shakes his head.
“Just because I don’t need the same amount of sleep that everyone else does.”
“That’s right, you’re a robot.” He rolls his eyes.
“Fuck you.” I throw a straw wrapper at him.
“Seriously, what’s going on? Ever since the charity event, you’ve been distracted.”
“I met someone,” I tell him after a brief pause.
“Oh, do tell.” Jackson moves his eyebrows up and down.
“Nothing to tell. I met someone. I like her. We’re spending time together. End of story.”
“With you, that’s never the end of the story. So, what’s hers?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out.”
“So, would I know her?”
“No, probably not.”
“And why’s that?”
“She doesn’t run in the same circles as your girlfriends do.”
“I don’t have girlfriends.”
“The chicks you meet, then. Is that better?”
“That is a better way to frame it, yes. So, when do I get to meet her?”
“Not sure if I want to taint her with meeting any of my friends.”
“To taint her? What the hell, I’m Prince Charming.”
“I recall your last girlfriend called you. What was it? Mr. slick and greasy?”
“Fuck you.” He tosses the same straw wrapper back at me. “That was one time when we hooked up late at night. She attacked me right after the gym.” He defends.
“Did you meet her at the event? No, that can’t be. You don’t like to talk to strangers.”
“I talk to strangers all the time.”
“Lies. You talk to other hackers on the web. You have a monitor in front of you most of the time, and you pretty much keep to yourself.”
“Those hackers are strangers. I also talk to investors and new employees.”
“That’s business. You have to do that.”
Our food arrives, and we eat. Silence has taken over the table, aside from grunts and satisfied groans. Twenty minutes later, we’re both sitting comfortably on opposite sides of our booth.
“I want to meet this chick of yours.”
“You kind of already have.”
“Wait, what? When?”
“She was at the event we went to, the last charity thing we went to.”
“I don’t recall us talking to anyone that we didn’t know.”
“She worked the event. It wasn’t like a major conversation or anything. I ran into her outside the bathrooms. But she was there.”
“She worked the event?”
“Catering.”
“Catering? Like bringing food and shit? Like a waitress? Was it the hot chick that brought us drinks? Or the chick that brought the food? I remember nothing else.” He shakes his head.
“Denise was the one that brought us the drinks.”
“I think I remember that one being hot.”
“She’s beautiful. Smart and funny too.”
“Aw, look at you being all smitten and shit.”
“Don’t make this weird, dude.” I grab my beer and bring it to my lips.
“Can we talk about work for a second?” he asks.
“I think we had a sufficient amount of deep conversations about my personal life, so yes.”
“Idiot. Listen, the project that I’m heading, the microchip one, we’re having some issues with it connecting.”
“Is the code legit?”
“We ran it a million times. It worked half of the first times, and for good measure, we continued testing. It worked perfectly on the computer, but once we had it hard wired, it stopped working. We can’t get point A into point B.”
“So, there’s a communication issue.”
We dive deep into talking out the malfunction, to heading back into the office and working on the issue. We run tests with and without the chip, and even pull in a few other staff members to help solve the issue.
After a few hours, we’ve solved his problem and I walk out of the clean room before the team disassembles and starts celebrating.
I don’t need to take part in moments like those. Sure, the feeling is good. But I have other projects to focus on, as well as a woman who I cannot get out of my mind.
I hold my phone up and press the Facetime button on her contact info. Moments later, the call connects, and her screen was dark. I can barely make out her face until she turns on the light. She’s lying in bed, with her hair mussed and her voice is thick with sleep.
I look at my watch and note that it’s late.
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” I say, “I lost track of time. I didn’t know how late it was. Go back to bed, we can talk tomorrow. At a more reasonable hour.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m up now.”
“I promise next time to pay attention to the time.”
“What are you doing awake?” she asks.
“I have a weird schedule most nights. I lose track of time when I’m working.”
“Did you make any amazing tech breakthroughs tonight?” her hair fans out on her pillow and she smiles.
“We did. I helped with a bunch of troubleshooting, and after a few hours, we fixed it, and now one of our clients will have a new microchip for one of their programs, which will help in tracking down bad guys.”
“Oh, that sounds intriguing. Tell me more.”
“I can’t. We signed an NDA. But I can tell you it’s government focused and will be used for good, not evil.”
“No terminator shit? I don’t need any T-1000’s taking over the world.”
“I cannot confirm, nor deny.”
“That isn’t too comforting.” She laughs.
“How was your day? How was your exam? I feel like a dick that I didn’t check in earlier.”
“Hey, don’t feel bad about that. You’re good. The day was good. The exam was good.”
“Good?”
“Okay, it was great. I feel pretty good about it. Your optimism is rubbing off on me.”
“Really? What’s your day look like tomorrow?”
Denise
There are a few things that I would die for.
Front-row tickets to go see my favorite band, Knights Honor.
And the eggs benedict with cherry tomato hollandaise over a brioche bun with some of the most delicious bacon that I’ve ever seen.
And the food is what’s in front of me.
I’m making noises that could be private for the bedroom, and my eyes keep rolling in delight.
I’m taking small bites, savoring every morsel that I can with Miller sitting across from me with an amused look on his face.
“Well, I don’t need to ask if your food is good. I think the entire restaurant knows how much you like your meal.” He takes a sip of his sunrise mimosa.
“I think the chef would appreciate how much I like his dish,” I reply.
“I appreciate how much you like the dish.” He winks.
I take another bite. I fight the groan, but my eyes still roll. And then I cut a glance to Miller, who has his hand over his mouth, covering his smile.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” I point my fork at the plate of half-eaten pancakes in front of him.
“I didn’t know that this was a stack of pancakes. I normally don’t eat a lot in the mornings. My big meal of the day is usually lunch.”
“This could count as lunch.” I point at my plate and lick my lips.
“Yeah, it totally can. Except it’s only eight in the morning.”
“When do you have to be at work?”
“That’s the luxury of owning the business that you work at. I can do whatever I want whenever I want and however I want.”
“Are you playing hooky today?” I act shocked.
“That depends,” he replies, folding his arms in front of him.
“Depends on what?”
“What’s your plans today?”
“Oh, well, this breakfast is my number one priority today. Then, I plan to take a nap, and maybe watch something on television, then I will probably eat again at some point. I could drink a box of wine. The possibilities are endless.”
“Would you like some company?”
“You want to spend a day doing nothing with me?”
“If we can change the box of wine for something in a glass bottle, then I’m all yours.”
“I get the impression that you don’t experience lazy days frequently.”
“I don’t. Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“Am I a bad influence on you, making you slack off on your responsibilities?”
“Not at all. But I am allowed a day off here and there.”
“That you are. Well, Mr. Davenport, would you like to be lazy with me today?”
“The only question I have is, your place or mine?”