2. PRESENT DAY - January
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
T he next two days are a bigger blur. I bury myself in work and barely leave my desk at Cobalt Inc. Cans of Lightning Bolt! are piled in a tiny trashcan, and despite the fact that my ass hasn’t left this chair for eight hours, my space is pretty organized.
I can’t think if there’s shit everywhere.
Suddenly, a Styrofoam container appears next to my keyboard. I stop typing to pull out two twenties from my pocket and hand the cash to the white guy standing beside my desk. Combed back auburn hair and an expensive suit, Keith looks like he’s auditioning for the role of Douchebag #3.
He’s a little older than me and an intern in the Cobalt magnets division. We have a deal going. He grabs food from the cafeteria three times a day for me, just so I don’t have to leave my desk, and he upcharges me for ten-dollar sushi.
It’s worth it.
And he should be walking away right now.
But he’s still here.
I point to my headphones. They’re noise-cancelling, so I can’t hear him past the soft beat of my music.
I can’t even read his lips that well, but I see his brows furrow in frustration.
Okay, I don’t want to lose my personal Uber Eats because I ignored him on a random Thursday. I yank my headphones to my neck.
“Abbey,” he says. “This is the last time I’m doing this.” He points to the Styrofoam. I grab it and open the lid, making sure he didn’t spit on the tuna rolls. As far as I can tell, the sushi looks perfect.
I put the container in my mini-fridge under my desk. “Why is this the last time? Do you want more money?” I could go up to fifty, I think.
“No,” Keith snaps. “I’m getting shit from the guys in my office. They’re calling me your bitch.” That’s really not a surprise. I’m not well-liked here.
For one, I have ties to Connor, and I refuse to give these pricks an “in” with the boss.
No secrets about Connor are coming from my mouth, despite numerous requests for weird shit.
Like his favorite liquor and what time of day he’s “least” likely to reject their proposal.
Do I look like I’m a walking Connor Cobalt Wiki ?
Secondly, I’m one of the only people who runs their own division alone in Cobalt Inc.
Connor said he’d officially title my division when I’ve presented my prototype. Right now, I’m keeping everything a secret—even the concept. Less pressure that way, and Connor doesn’t seem to care about it.
The guys in the company—they care.
It’s favoritism. Nepotism. All wrapped in one fugly looking package.
To Keith, I shrug. “I mean, them calling you my bitch is kind of a lame insult, man. Aren’t we all Connor Cobalt’s bitches at this point?”
Keith shakes his head and then slowly stops, rethinking. “Yeah, but you’re not Connor Cobalt. You’re what…twenty-three?”
“Twenty-one,” I correct, probably not helping my case. “And just tell those guys to fuck off. You’re making almost a hundred dollars a day off me because I’m too lazy to move my ass.”
Connor doesn’t do free internships, but Keith can’t be earning what his senior coworkers take home.
“Exactly,” Keith says. “You’re lazy. You’re young. You’re you . I can’t be seen with you, Abbey.” He motions between us. “This partnership is over.”
I roll my eyes as he walks off. There goes that one.
Focusing back on my computer, I put my headphones on and try to fix a bug in the code.
I’m building the foundation of the game before I even work in the mechanics of design and more complex gameplay.
It’s harder not having a team of programmers, but I prefer to do it alone.
At least, right now at this stage, I don’t need a bunch of people in my space.
Another body arrives near my cubicle, and without even turning my head, I recognize the poised I own this world posture and expensive Cartier wristwatch from my peripheral.
Connor Cobalt is gracing me with his presence, which doesn’t happen every day. He gives me room to breathe and work and so far I’ve appreciated that.
I keep my eyes on the computer, some strands of hair falling in my face, but I keep typing. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll just vanish.
“Garrison,” Connor says. I can hear his calm, assertive tone even over my noise-cancelling headphones.
I don’t blink, my focus zoned in on the computer.
He waves a hand in front of the screen. Finally, I glance up at him, still typing like I’m supremely busy. Then I peek at his side.
Lily Calloway is here. And she looks about as out-of-place at Cobalt Inc. as I do. A casual long-sleeve black shirt and overcoat hangs baggie on her gangly frame. I don’t even think she’s wearing actual pants—just leggings.
There’s only a handful of reasons she could be here, and I’m going to go with the most obvious.
It’s January 3 rd , and everyone in this building knows what that means.
It’s Connor Cobalt’s 30 th birthday, and if you want to be on Connor’s good side, you act like today is just any other ordinary day.
No fanfare. No wishing your boss happy birthday. Definitely no cake or gifts.
Apparently, Connor isn’t that hyped on celebrating his age, but I’m sure his wife and sisters-in-law are planning something for him.
And all of this has absolutely nothing to do with me.
I return my gaze to Connor and click a button on my keyboard, turning off my music. “What do you want?” I don’t know why, but those words come out a lot harsher than I intend. My muscles twitch.
“You’re done for the day,” Connor says, ignoring my tone. “I need you to come with us.”
What?
My fingers still move over my keyboard, finishing up some last lines of code that I needed to plug in. I swing my head to Lily, trusting her more. “Is this work related?”
“Umm…” She mumbles and then shrugs.
Jesus. She’s no help. And I bet she’s in on this plan to kidnap me from my work.
“Will you come with us if it isn’t?” Connor asks.
“No.” I don’t even hesitate. It’s just the way it is.
They’re not my friends, and I can pretend all day long that they give a shit about me.
But they don’t. They care about Willow, and I’m an extension of her.
Willow and I aren’t in a great place right now, and the probability of us not working out has skyrocketed.
I’m trying to avoid a situation where I form these bonds with people and then have them all ripped away. I’ve been through the loss of friends before—and it’s fucking painful. And I didn’t even like those assholes.
It’d be infinitely worse when you actually enjoy hanging out with your friends. And I like Lily. I like Lo. I had fun at the Fright Night during Halloween. Having a good time with them scares the shit out of me. Because it’s just another thing I could lose.
So…no. Whatever they’re up to, it’s a big capital Fuck No from me .
Connor doesn’t miss a beat. “Then it’s work related,” he says. “Grab your things.”
Seriously?
I wrench my headphones back to my neck with a deeper sigh. Abandoning my work. It looks like Connor’s not going to let me bail on this. Plus, I’d prefer to keep my job.
To Lily, I say, “Just tell me where we’re going and why.”
“Ryke’s house—or cottage.”
I don’t get why they call it a cottage. It looks like a fucking house.
She adds, “It’s a surprise party for Connor.”
The word surprise jumps out at me. I’m living in a parallel universe where words don’t mean the same thing. I glance at my boss. “How is this a surprise birthday if you know? And why the hell do you want me to go?”
“Surprising me is so rare that everyone uses the term loosely.” He points at my computer. “You’re here at six in the morning and you leave at midnight. Seven days a week. While I appreciate your work ethic, as your friend, it’s disconcerting.”
I inhale a tight breath. Friend. There’s that word again. “You’re my boss, not my friend.”
“I’m both,” Connor says easily, “and since you seem to be lacking in the friend department lately, I wouldn’t turn my back on one, especially friendships as valuable as mine.”
Believe me, I know how valuable his friendship is. The employees here can’t stop reminding me about it.
Lily pipes in, “Having no friends isn’t a bad thing.”
I pinch my eyes. “Can you both just shut up?” It’s hard to think with them in my ear. Another day spent with the famous couples: Lily and Lo, Connor and Rose, Ryke and Daisy. I should reject this forced invite, but for the sake of my job and my current sanity, there’s only one real choice.
I roll back the chair and grab my backpack from underneath the desk. Lily glances at my ripped jeans, but she doesn’t say anything about it.
Standing, I still have to crane my neck to look at my boss. The guy is six-four, and I swear the universe is playing right into his hand. People refer to Connor as some otherworldly being like an immortal god. He might as well be tall enough to touch the sky.
I sling the backpack over my shoulder. “If I go,” I say to Connor. “You have to stop calling me your friend. We’re not, okay?” I need him to understand this. I don’t want him as a friend. If we’re not, there won’t be more collateral damage when I lose Willow.
Before Connor can reply, I look to Lily. “And I have friends…” I pause. That’s not completely true. “One friend. She’s just not here.”
Willow.
My only friend.
Casually, like I didn’t just offer this grand stipulation, Connor checks his watch. “Most people would be on their knees to be my friend. This just illustrates your lack of judgment.”
Maybe.
I nod. “Thanks, boss.” Sarcasm bleeds from my lips.
“Follow me.” Connor motions to Lily and me. He saunters ahead with calm, reassuring authority. Most people love it. For some people, the arrogant superiority grates on them. After working months for Connor, I’m landing somewhere in between.
We pass a copy machine, Lily step-by-step beside me. I whisper to her, “Just so you know, you’re my favorite boss.” I’ve only ever had two. Connor and Lily.
She smiles wide, and a good feeling floods my chest.
I miss those days at Superheroes & Scones.
But I can’t have them back.