Chapter Eleven
Eleven
When Friday rolled around, Stella could barely focus.
It didn’t help that the day prior Max had been in the office for the first AIX/Sparky office hours, which went as well as could’ve been expected.
Stella hadn’t wanted to go for fear of instant combustion from being in the same room as Max, but Effie insisted they needed to go and get some answers.
Max, along with his colleague Rashid, an Indian American software engineer who was co-lead on the Sparky project, as they called it, were bombarded with questions.
“How will this be any different from those AI-generated articles on other news sites?”
“If we have to go through and edit Sparky’s work anyway, how does this save us time?”
“Are you aware your AI uses an obscene amount of water? It’s bad for the environment!”
“What happens if we refuse to use it?”
And on and on it went. To Max and Rashid’s credit, they answered everyone’s questions to the best of their ability while referring other questions to Miles.
“Unlike other websites, Sparky isn’t creating posts that just go live without any human eyes on them,” Max said.
“In fact, Sparky isn’t really creating anything at all.
It’s just there as a tool to help while you’re creating your posts.
So, rather than having to leave the CMS to google something, you can put into Sparky something like, ‘Add all the zodiac signs,’ and it’ll pull sourced images for you.
Or if you want a list of the highest paid actors, it’ll drop that in for you.
And then you’ll go in and tweak it with your own copy and ideas. ”
This seemed to make sense to Stella, but she, just like everyone else in the room, had heard about how “AI writers” were replacing real writers across the digital space, so she was hesitant to believe this Sparky thing was really for their benefit. And she wasn’t the only one.
“As for whether or not you have to use it,” Max had continued, “Miles has made no indication that you all have to use it, and if you prefer to continue to make your own posts and not work with Sparky, that is your prerogative. However, the more you use Sparky, the smarter and better it becomes and the more helpful it will be.”
Effie had scoffed at that. “Right, and the easier it’ll be for it to replace us.”
Murmurs of agreement went around the room, and Max and Rashid had exchanged a long look before finally ending the office hours, with Max making a declaration that he would discuss their questions with Miles and hopefully come back with more concrete answers on Monday.
Stella had lingered in the conference room, debating if she should say something to Max, but when Effie looked at her and mouthed, “What are you doing?” Stella quickly scurried away. She hadn’t yet told anyone about Max, and she didn’t think the office was the best place to do so.
Especially because the office hours only seemed to make everyone’s opinion of Max (and by association, Rashid) even worse.
As much as Stella wanted to ignore the various conversations about AIX and Sparky, it was difficult when everyone around her had something to say, including Effie, who for once was also incredibly distracted from her work.
“This is how it always starts,” she’d said. “First, they bring in this little robot thing, and next, they’re kicking us to the curb so they can still get content without having to pay us for it. This is the beginning of the end.”
Stella frowned. “What happened to not worrying about something that hasn’t occurred yet?”
Effie rolled her eyes as if Stella was being naive.
“It is happening, Stells,” Effie said. “Best start prepping your résumé.”
Stella did not start prepping her résumé.
Perhaps she was being naive, as Effie had suggested, but she’d tried to do her places-to-lose-your-virginity post with Sparky, and it spit out the most random places, like the M&M’s Store in Times Square and the Staten Island Ferry.
She soon realized it was pulling ideas from a Reddit thread about the wildest places people had had sex.
Not exactly what she was going for.
Once she’d seen that, Stella couldn’t believe this AI thing could really replace their entire staff. Sure, their team wasn’t writing Pulitzer Prize–winning articles or anything, but they each brought something special to their work that this Sparky machine simply couldn’t.
Also, Stella couldn’t even consider that she was about to sleep with someone who could be responsible for causing her and her friends to lose their jobs.
Her brain simply wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she was determined to focus on what she did know was happening: she was going to have sex with Max tonight.
Penetrative sex.
With a condom.
And no interruptions.
In hindsight, Stella knew she should’ve knocked on wood.
At the start, it seemed that everything was going perfectly. She’d arrived at Max’s building, which was on the Upper West Side, right across the street from Central Park. Based on location alone, Stella would bet Max paid more in rent than she made in a year.
Perhaps if she did lose her job she could marry Max and join The Real Housewives of New York City. Just kidding. That would be crazy.
Unless…
Stella shook her head, dismissing thoughts of marriage from her mind, as she strode up to the doorman, whose name tag said “Ernesto.”
Max had told her to let him know when she was close by so he could come down and get her, which she’d done. But she could tell he wasn’t standing in the lobby yet, so she approached Ernesto.
“Hello,” she said, injecting her voice with as much polite cheer as possible. “I’m here to see Max.” After a slight pause she added, “Williams. Max Williams. He lives here?”
She said that last bit like a question, and Ernesto quirked a brow as he looked her over.
Stella figured she probably didn’t look like someone who’d be visiting a building like this, but she thought she looked pretty good at least. She’d worn her best pair of high-waisted boyfriend jeans and a black cropped sweater.
She’d switched out of her favorite Docs at work into black ankle boots that had enough of a chunky heel that she felt moderately comfortable walking around the city in them.
She topped the look with her favorite pink peacoat and a matching pink tote purse and beanie.
She’d also taken some of Chelsea’s makeup this morning, and although it wasn’t much, she thought the soft pink on her eyes and lips made her look at least cute, if not hot.
But maybe that wasn’t the vibe of someone living in a high-rise across the street from Central Park.
Regardless, Ernesto nodded and pulled the door open so Stella could step inside, out of the cold.
“Thank you,” Stella said, and then gave a slight bow for some reason.
She quickly ran inside before she could mortify herself any further.
As if on cue, the doors of one of the two elevators in the lobby slid open and out came Max.
He’d taken the opposite approach to Stella and was dressed down in a long-sleeved Howard crew neck, gray sweatpants, and black slides.
But God, was the look working for him, especially when he pushed up his sleeves as he approached.
Stella half wondered if he’d done it on purpose.
“Hi,” he said as he came to a stop in front of her.
“Hi.”
Max reached out a hand for her bag and she let him take it, something fluttery happening in her stomach as she watched him nonchalantly pull it up on his shoulder. The fluttery thing turned into a storm of butterflies when he reached back, taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers.
This was Stella’s problem. She could never do anything halfway, and that included liking someone.
From the age of five, when she had her first crush on Jackson Andrews, Stella could track the passing of time by who she had a crush on.
At this point, it’d been at least a year since her last one, but the feelings overwhelmed her all the same.
As Max led her into the elevator and kissed her as the doors closed, Stella feared she’d already fallen much harder than she was supposed to.
Stella wasn’t going to worry about that tonight, though.
Instead, she let herself melt into Max’s kiss.
He tasted minty and fresh, like he’d just brushed his teeth, which made her smile because she’d bought a travel toothbrush and toothpaste at lunch so she could do the same before she came.
His hands were at her waist, and she could feel the warmth of them even through her coat.
As he tugged her closer so she was pressed against him, she could already feel his dick getting hard.
The elevator dinged just as the doors opened, and Stella and Max reluctantly pulled apart. Max took her hand again and led her into the hallway, which appeared to only have two doors, one on either side of the elevators.
“You only have one neighbor?” Stella asked.
Max nodded as he opened his door, which was apparently unlocked. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t in Brooklyn anymore.
When Max opened the door, Stella’s mouth literally dropped open.
“Whoa.”
She could see why he only had the one neighbor.
The apartment must’ve taken up half of the whole floor.
Stella moved farther into the space as she took it all in.
Past the short entryway, the walls were a mix of exposed brick and floor-to-ceiling windows, and the floors were polished wood that shone like they were brand-new. Maybe they were, for all she knew.
The space was split down the middle by a hallway that she presumed led to his bedroom and bathroom.
On either side were the living room and the kitchen, similar to her apartment but on a much bigger scale.
He also appeared to have all matching furniture and the newest appliances.
The TV that hung on the wall of his living room was so massive, Stella was shocked it was able to defy gravity.
“Can I take your coat?” Max asked from behind her.
Stella was slightly startled by his voice, she’d gotten so lost in admiring his space.
“Yes, please.”
She unbuttoned the coat and he took it from her, hanging it on a coat hook along with her purse. Under the coat hooks was a little shoe rack, so she unzipped her boots and placed them there.
“You look nice,” Max said.
Stella grinned. “Thank you.”
“Shall I give you the tour?”
He held out his hand, and she happily took it. “Sure, I’d love that.”
Max led her through his apartment, and Stella attempted to listen, but all that was going through her brain was the thought that they’d end up in his bedroom. That was the point of the tour, right? One did not simply take someone through their apartment if not to lead them to their bedroom for sex.
Stella had never gone to someone’s apartment for the explicit reason of having sex.
She’d never gone to someone’s apartment for anything romantic, period.
This was another first for her that she could check off the silly list in her head that would elevate her from inexperienced to a bona fide freak in the sheets.
“Stella?”
She blinked up to see Max staring at her.
She looked around and realized that at some point they’d arrived in the bedroom.
It was nice but plain. Along one side were the same floor-to-ceiling windows, but they took up the whole wall, giving Stella the scary feeling that they could fall right out into the dark night of the city.
Still, the view made the fear almost worth it.
She could see all of Central Park from here, and it looked beautiful, even with the trees missing their leaves.
“Are you okay?”
Max was looking at her with concern now, which was not good. She needed to seem confident, sexy, and ready to take a roll in the hay, or whatever the kids were saying these days.
“Yes, I’m good. Just spaced for a second,” she said, turning her full attention on him. And then, before she could overthink it, she stepped into his arms, wrapping herself around his middle.
She had to lean back slightly to look up at him, he was so damn tall.
“You have condoms this time, right?”
Max smiled. “Yes.”
“And lube?”
Sometimes Stella hated how her brain worked, but if they were really going to do this, she figured they should be fully prepared this time, and she forgot to bring her own from home.
Max coughed out a laugh. “Um, yeah?”
“Okay, good,” Stella said.
Then she pushed up on her tiptoes, the height difference between them now extended due to her lack of shoes, and pressed her lips to his. She’d barely gotten to enjoy the feel of him kissing her back when all the lights went out.