Chapter 7
Across the break room table, Connor stared. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side, a sign he was studying me as I chewed my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Only being human for the last six months, he tried to mimic humanity. In this case, he wasn’t as successful.
“You’re staring.”
“You chew weirdly.”
“Rude.”
“I’m stating a fact. Compared to 72% of—”
“How are you getting on?”
I couldn’t imagine the idea of not having a body my entire life and then suddenly having extra senses to deal with.
At one point, Connor had been Orion’s A.I.
and best friend, almost inseparable, and now it was almost as if they led different lives.
I suppose that was good for both of them, but I marveled at their independence.
“It’s been an adjustment, but good,” he said with a slight nod. It still amazed me how much he looked like Orion’s boyfriend, as if they could be brothers. “Janet made me start dating.”
“Oh?” Barely two months since acquiring a body, and already doing better than me in that department. “How’s that going?”
“Lots of dick,” he said. My jaw dropped. “And the ladies… have you ever had a—”
“I get the picture.”
Connor wasted no time going from artificial intelligence to indulging in the human experience. Did I have to ask for tips from a computer? Janet might be a bad influence, but if there were anybody at Secret Identities that knew how to live, it’d be her.
“How are you processing social interactions? Wyatt still struggles with those.” That’s who should give Connor tips.
Wyatt hadn’t been great at navigating the nuances of human relationships.
He still struggled to understand all the Earth customs at play.
Now that I thought about it, all of us had our awkward moments.
“Emotions,” he said. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “You’re governed by emotions. Fine. I can comprehend this, but out of nowhere, humans become illogical.”
My eyes narrowed, suspicious that he might have knowledge about what happened last night. His eyes narrowed in response. I couldn’t tell if he was making an accusation or an observation.
Connor had worked for us since his creation. Despite seeing him in the office, I could count on one hand how many times we had talked one-on-one. But after last night, he might be the perfect person to ask a question that continued to plague me.
“Do you experience emotions?”
“Not like you, but I do in my own way.”
“Can I ask you a question?” His left eyebrow lifted. “What do you do when they get overwhelming?”
“Reset my system.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”
He leaned forward, lips pursed as his eyes darted back and forth. “Drew.” He was not amused. “I’m not a computer anymore. I can’t turn myself off and on. Reset. Find something you enjoy. Return to your normal parameters and then process.”
Oh. That was more insightful than I anticipated.
“Drew!” Before I could follow up, Orion came charging into the break room. As soon as he sat down, he opened his hand. A screen projected from the metal band on his ring finger… wait… I’d have to ask if he had news to share about him and Hudson.
“Synergy is holding a press conference.”
The screen formed like a translucent television screen. I got up, standing behind him. I recognized the lobby of the building and Ms. Keyes. She stood at the podium they used during big events. I had to wonder what warranted dozens of reporters congregating in the lobby.
“You’re famous,” he said.
“Let me repeat myself,” she said. “Thanks to our partnership with the government and an independent agent, we have uncovered a leak in the Synergy family. We are deeply committed to ensuring our work improves Vanguard and the superhero community. Synergy and I would like to thank those involved. We will be following up with the District Attorney to ensure justice is served and that Vanguard can sleep a little safer tonight. Now, I’ll be happy to answer questions… ”
“Parties involved!” Janet said from the doorway. “You’re practically a hero!”
The slap on the shoulder made me cringe.
The wounds were healing, but it’d be some time until I was back to normal.
I hid the hiss in a cough. Booker would have discovered the culprit without me.
I couldn’t take credit for the discovery.
However, without me, I don’t know if Booker would have lived to deliver the report.
If I hadn’t intervened… I pushed the thought out of my head.
“His body language isn’t right,” Connor said.
“He’s just being modest.” Janet gripped my shoulders, giving me a shake. “We should celebrate.”
“If we celebrate every time a supervillain attacks,” Orion said, “we’d never get any work done.”
“As Secret Identity Incorporated’s official Morale Officer, I’ll go get the cake.” She pulled Connor by the arm, and the two charged toward the lobby. “Do you think you can find strippers on short notice?”
“I have Destiny on speed dial.”
“Do we have to try to fire Janet again?” I asked as I took a seat next to Orion.
“It never sticks,” Orion said.
With a swipe of his hand, the video vanished. He started to get up when I grabbed his wrist. Instinctively, he tried pulling away, but without his suit, he was no match for my strength. With a blink, I turned the wall and doorway black, giving us some privacy.
“What’s this?”
We both looked down at his hand. By default, Orion didn’t emote unless it involved sarcasm. He might not think it was worth discussing, but I wouldn’t let him get away without celebrating a different kind of victory.
“He… did a thing.”
Every lingering worry evaporated. I squeezed his wrist, a smile stretching across my face. My legs twitched, but I resisted the urge to lunge and hug him.
“I won’t hug you, but I want to.”
“Thanks,” he said, “on both accounts.”
I might not be able to smother him with excitement, but I’d find a way.
Perhaps I’d show up at their house with a cake—red velvet.
Orion would act like he hated it, and the next day I’d find the red dye under his fingernails as if he devoured it like an animal.
Orion wouldn’t squeal with delight. Hudson, on the other hand, would join me in jumping up and down while I begged him to share every moment.
“Too bad you found the leak.” I cocked my head to the side. It wasn’t the reaction I expected for saving the day. “Your government official? Quite the handsome man.”
I let my cheeks burn bright red. “I hadn’t noticed.” Not only did I notice, but I could probably draw his face from memory.
Orion got up from the table and headed to where I had blacked out the wall. “That’d have been a fun double date.”
I had to chuckle at the idea. “So you could interrogate him about the doppelg?nger running the city?”
He shrugged. “No. Cause I haven’t seen you blush over a man before.” He disappeared through the black. “And because he knows about the doppelg?nger.”
In the silence of an empty break room, I touched my cheeks.
The smile remained plastered, refusing to fade.
Booker conjured a whirlwind of emotion every time he entered the room.
I had explained to Wyatt that we didn’t have words for everything we experienced.
This was one of those complicated moments.
I feared what he had seen, the brutality that unfolded in that small apartment.
Despite the fear, I tried to concoct an excuse to see him again.
Perhaps our paths would cross after this assignment.
With a wave of the hand, the black vanished, and I exited the break room.
I needed to make some phone calls about an ad for male escorts showing up in the HeroApp?.
It didn’t meet the terms of service, but damn if it wasn’t one of the most-clicked ads we ever had.
Goes to show that even heroes needed company.
The moment I walked into my office, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
Something wasn’t right. My hand dropped to my thigh.
I needed to carry the batons under my clothes.
There was no place to hide unless somebody had nestled themselves under my desk.
I walked around, half expecting an assassin to jump at me.
Nothing.
“Strange.”
When I sat down, I saw it: an envelope. It could be documents from Arthur.
Maybe Janet wanted to share her boudoir photos again?
My stomach tightened. I pinched the gold clasp, opening it as if a bomb might go off.
A single sheet of paper slid out. The cut-out letters should have been a ransom note.
Instead of a lengthy demand list, there were only three words: It’s not over.
I reached for my phone.
Drew: We need to talk.
Booker: Yes. Yes, we do.
Rossi’s: Best Pizza in Vanguard.
“Debatable,” I mumbled. The location had nothing to do with their greasy pizza or overly sweet sauce.
When Booker suggested we meet, I needed somewhere safe, free of assassins, corporate espionage, and prying eyes.
Rossi’s fit the bill on all accounts. More importantly, it meant red in Italian.
I ordered from here weekly for that fact alone.
I opened the door and was greeted by faux-Tuscan bricks along the left wall.
Murals of the Italian countryside covered the right.
While they leaned heavily into the theme, the funniest part was the owner.
Jake Owens. The waitress once let it slip that he was born in Vanguard with absolutely no Italian heritage.
We all had personas—why shouldn’t the owner of a pizza joint be any different?
Plastic red-and-white checkered tablecloths pushed it over the edge.
While Jake spun pizza dough in the air, I expected him to shout out victory with a fake Italian accent.
I thought I had arrived first, but then I spotted the man in the trench coat holding a menu in front of his face.
Those broad shoulders would stand out anywhere.