Page 6 of Preferential Treatment

Settlers of Catan had been banned because Theo had decided to hoard all the wheat and create a captive market wherein everybody else had to barter at Theo’s absurd prices in order to make any progress on their own roads and settlements. Anna had tried to implement rules that prevented resource hoarding, but Kate had immediately recognized the pattern of returns Anna’s rules created and adjusted her gameplay in anticipation, winning game after game until Theo had finally caught onto her strategy and disrupted it by focusing all his efforts into building roads that hemmed Kate’s settlements in.

According to Anna, Theo and Kate were the only ones having any fun. So, Settlers of Catan was out. As were Agricola, Rising Sun, Small World, and Gaia Project, for similar reasons. Last week, they’d tried Taboo, but Anna’s fiancé, Jason—the size of a mountain and about as talkative as one—had looked like he was being waterboarded every time it was his turn to give clues. Meanwhile, Theo and Kate had banded together, absolutely destroying everybody else.

The new game went well enough. The nature of the play prevented Theo and Kate from railroading everyone else. Theo was obviously bored by it. Kate didn’t necessarily mind the idea of collaborative play, but it did remind her a little bit of being forced to do group work in school. Waiting for the others to take their turns bordered on excruciating. Jason’s cousin Eric was a nice enough guy, but he kept getting derailed by pointless details that made Kate want to snatch the dice out of his hands. And his wife, Mel, kept forgetting key details that had already been established, making moves that got them nowhere. At several points, Kate had to stop herself from barking out “NO!” to Mel’s moves.

On the bright side, it took her focus off of Mikhail Volkov. At least for a little while.

Later, when the game was done and everyone was just chatting, Kate went into the kitchen for another drink. Anna and Theo were in there, bickering. The two siblings somehow looked exactly like each other, and yet totally different. Both had fawn-colored hair and hazel-brown eyes. Both had the same slightly aquiline nose. They even had the same crooked smile that pulled one corner of their mouth higher than the other. But Anna’s features were softer, more doe-eyed, and she looked like doves might land on her shoulders if she started singing. Meanwhile, Theo was a sharp-edged, nearly gaunt, recovering addict, and he exuded the sort of feral energy that made strangers instinctively avoid eye contact with him.

“—good at what she does,” Anna was saying earnestly. “Just give it a shot. You’re getting everything together and this could really—

“I’m not your charity project, Annie,” Theo said tiredly. “Let me handle—” He cut himself off when he noticed Kate. He shot a quelling look at his sister and left the kitchen. Anna watched him go with a resigned sigh.

Kate chose not to comment. She opened the fridge and pulled out a can of soda, wiggling it in Anna’s direction. “You want anything?”

“No, I’m good. Oh—hey! I have a question for you.”

Kate straightened abruptly. Irrationally, she halfway believed that Anna knew about the offer from Mikhail Volkov. But how could she? It was impossible. And yet, Anna always seemed to know these things. It was like she had some sort of prophetic sense for other people’s troubles.

“Uh… what?” Kate asked hesitantly.

“Are you still looking for a roommate?”

Kate relaxed. “Oh, that.”

Anna’s brows rose. “That? What else would it be? Got something on your mind?”

“No.”

Anna narrowed her eyes. Kate imagined a psychic shield around her brain, blocking Anna’s unnatural perceptiveness. Of course mind-reading wasn’t real. But it didn’t hurt to take precautions.

“Hm.” Anna’s suspicion faded with a shrug. “Well, anyway, a friend of mine is moving to Chicago, and she’s looking for a roommate.”

Kate leaned against the fridge, thinking. Did she need a roommate? The ten-thousand dollars from Mikhail would cover a hypothetical roommate’s half of the rent for nearly a year. But if Kate got a roommate now, she could use that money to pay down her credit-card debt instead.

But, if she took Mikhail up on his offer, she’d have more money coming in every week, and wouldn’t necessarily need a roommate. She had to consider, though, how long the arrangement would even last. He wasn’t exactly proposing marriage, here. And what if she didn’t take the offer at all? She needed the money, but her pride had some value too, and being a billionaire’s on-call sugar baby rankled a little bit. She’d always imagined herself manning the guillotine during the revolution, not jerking off the ruling the class.

“Yeah, actually, I am. Who’s this friend?”

“She was my best friend growing up,” Anna said.

Kate instinctively bristled with jealousy, but she kept her expression mild.

“She’s been sober for almost a year—” Anna continued.

“Anna,” Kate sighed, exasperated. “What is it with you and addicts?”

“Hey,” Anna chided softly. “If you don’t want her as a roommate, you can say so. But people struggle sometimes, and they deserve help when they’re trying to get better.”

Unmoved by Anna’s saintliness, Kate crossed her arms. “Am I going to have to worry that this friend of yours is going to steal all my shit so she can sell it for a fix when she relapses?”

“No. If she relapsed, most likely she’d just disappear on you.”

Kate started to reply, but Anna cut her off.

“But, I don’t think she’s going to relapse. Her problem’s with alcohol, not drugs. And her drinking was a coping mechanism. Moving here is the next step in escaping the environment that she had to cope with.”

Kate considered that. Anna was a bleeding heart, but she had an unnervingly good sense of people. “Alright,” she finally said. “Give your friend my number. We’ll talk and see if we fit.”

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