Page 2 of The Plus-One Deal

“That’s two questions,” I said, just to be snarky. Truth was, I kind of liked his idea. But it needed my spin on it, or it’d be all his show. “How about a gig-to-hire site? Internships, but useful?”

Conrad glanced at his laptop. “How do you mean?”

“Well, you know how so many jobs are being farmed out to gig workers? And the workers get no benefits and basically no rights, and there’s no lower limit on what employers can pay? What if we designed a model where the workers are all vetted, and they’re all looking for permanent work? And employers can give them essentially a three-month paid trial, and if it’s not a fit, they go their separate ways?”

Conrad frowned. “How would you keep them from hiring intern after intern, never paying benefits or a full-time wage?”

I twirled my pencil, trying to think. “I don’t know — maybe make it transparent? Like, workers could see each employer’s hiring percentage. And what they pay, and employee reviews?”

“Companies wouldn’t go for that. They don’t want to be transparent. Why do you think all those job sites make workers use their real names, but companies can be like, Widgetcraft Inc?”

I shrugged, frustrated. “It’s just an idea.”

“No, no, it’s a good one. But it’ll need some finessing. Ways to make it attractive to workersandemployers.”

Our waitress swung back and set down our food. “Everything bagel, two large mint teas.” She swept off again before I could thank her. I was still squinting after her when I reached for my tea, and my knuckles bumped Conrad’s. He made a low sound.

“Sorry,” I said. “Go ahead, take it.”

He took his tea and sipped it, and heat rose in my cheeks. Was I seriously blushing over a dumb knuckle-bump? Or maybe it was how our eyes locked over his cup, that smoldering darkness behind his long lashes.

Conrad licked his lips. “There’s honey in this.”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“No, I do.” He took another long sip and sighed, almost moaned. Was he teasing me? Flirting? Trying to throw me off guard?

“Most places use sugar,” he said. “The taste is less rich.”

I bit into my bagel to hide my rising flush. “It’s warm in here.”

“Probably the tea.” Conrad set down his cup. “I was thinking, though, this is a lot of our grade. Why don’t we take it back to my place and make a day of it?”

“Back to your frat house?” I pulled a face.

“No, I’m a senior. I don’t live in the house. I’ve got my own place, well, me and my roommate. But she’s glued to her Xbox. She won’t get in our way.”

I wouldn’t have gone back with him if not for that roommate, if not for the comfort of having another girl around. Not because I thought Conrad would try anything creepy, but because whenever I looked at him, my heart skipped a beat. I’d never been this close to him, close enough I could touch him. Close enough I could smell his earthy cologne. Even his voice made my insides flutter, the dark, rumbling depth of it, rough in his chest.

I wouldn’t have trusted myself if not for that roommate — and then, an hour in, she waltzed out the door.

“See ya,” she called.

I blinked. “Where’s she going?”

“Don’t know,” said Conrad, absorbed in his work. “I was thinking we’d provide a suite of performance-tracking tools across a spectrum of metrics, from?—”

“I’ve got to go.” I jumped up and fled before Conrad could stop me, and the next night I insisted we meet up at Gold’s. But they were closed thanks to a fire in their kitchen, and we ended up back at Conrad’s again.

“You’re good at this,” said Conrad, as our shadows grew long.

I looked up, surprised. I’d been absorbed in my task. “Good at which part?”

“The problem-solving. Most people see a problem, and they kind of bounce off it. They know there’s an issue, but not what to do, so they flag it and wait for somebody to solve it. You start in right away, coming up with ideas.”

“We have a deadline,” I said, secretly glowing. Conrad didn’t hand out praise lightly, or stray off-topic often. I’d been wondering what he thought of me, if he found me annoying. If the way he kept smiling was friendly or snide. If he was into our project, or maybe…

Our last night, Conrad’s roommate threw a LAN party. I lived in a cracker box with two other girls, so we met at the library to finish our work. By the time we got through it was coming on midnight, and we were both punchy from too much coffee. When I stood up, I swayed, and Conrad caught me. I grabbed hold of his arms and the lights sputtered out.

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