Page 17 of Shared Spaces

I text Mila back, slip on my shoes after grabbing my wallet from the counter and head down to the lobby to wait for her. The early morning sun is far too bright to wait outside, and I’ll notice her pull up from here.

We still have to keep our plans on the down low, and it’s hard when Jay is so damn pushy.

That’s also why I’m going to tell him about the girls’ trip at the very last second, because he’ll know I’m lying, and I’ll have no choice but to tell him.

10

Jay

She’s sneaky as hell.

I woke up, planning to have coffee with her, and she was already gone.

She left me on read too.

Brat.

Heading to the living room, I take a seat in my office chair and fire up my laptop. I have just a few things to adjust on the app, and then it’s ready for launch, finally.

I may have prolonged the process a little. Gwen was supposed to be done reviewing by now, and I was supposed to be planning out the next app to release.

I just don’t want to her to stop.

She hasn’t tried everything. The guys say that doesn’t matter; we have plenty enough logged from the other ten participants.

Eight of which use the products on themselves and keep track of their own reviews, submitting them at the end of each week for analysis and input.

The other two, which includes Gwen, have someone testing on them.

Reggie’s girlfriend has been part of the program from the very beginning. I have nothing to do with the other participants, other than logging their information, sending them emails or mailing them products.

Opening my email page, I notice that I have three new messages, and one is from the same damn email that sent me my violation notice regarding the app.

Sure enough, I open it to a plethora of concerns they have. In detail, describing the possibility that someone could download the program and not know what it’s for.

That’s why we list age requirements, you fucking idiots.

I respond back, politely pointing out the obvious.

Checking through the other messages, I organize them into folders and close my laptop.

Normally, I don’t drink coffee, but the espresso machine is calling my name, so I head off into the kitchen to try it out. I mean, there’s enough people in the world that drink it; there must be something good about it…right?

I’m impressed that Gwen even figured it out herself. She had the worst luck with the other one.

I load everything into the machine, and watch it slowly brew.

One taste of the thick tar looking coffee and I nearly drop the mug.

“Fuck! What the hell is this shit?” I exclaim, pouring the rest of it out into the sink.

Milk, I need fucking milk.

I open the fridge door in a panic, grab the milk jug and uncap it quickly, allowing the lid to fall to the floor while I guzzle half a liter back.

How the hell does she even drink that?

Finally, the taste leaves my mouth; though my taste buds are still suffering from the potency.

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