Page 4 of The Game

“She’s good people, and she hasn’t had an easy time of late.”

And that’s a hard no. A needy woman who’s messed up? Absolutely not.

“Please. As a favor to me. I’d like to help her out,” he says.

Oh! Goddamn Janus and his ability to lean on people.

“I’m sending you a link,” he adds into my stony silence.

My phone vibrates, and when I click the link, a beautiful dark-haired woman fills the screen.

“Whoa! That’s her?”

Janus laughs. “Go on, it will get you out of the office, and if you’re anything like me, I’m betting you slept on the couch there for the last three nights.”

Damn, he has a terrible habit of being right. “I’m not dressed for an awards thing, and I’ll fall asleep in my soup.”

Clearly sensing I’m weakening, he says, “If I can find you a suit, will you go?”

“You’re not spending your time finding me a suit.”

“Jenny will organize it.”

Jesus Christ. I glower at the on-screen circuit board I was designing before he called. My plan for the evening was to finish it. “What time?”

“7:30 p.m., but you’ll have to be at her apartment two hours beforehand.”

Fuck that. “Two hours!” I glance at my watch—it’s 2:30 p.m. now. How’s Jenny going to drum up a suit that fast?

“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. I’ll get Anna’s agent to give you a call.” And he hangs up.

I stare at the phone in my hand.

“Why do I have to be there two hours earlier?” I say to my empty office.

I look at the design on my screen again. Is finishing this going to make the difference between success and failure? No, no it isn’t. But as I’m studying it, my phone vibrates again.

“Hey, Mr. Miller, Barbara Levy, Anna Talanova’s agent. Thanks so much for helping Anna out tonight. Can I call you Adam? And you’ve got to call meBarb.” Her words rattle out in a strong New York accent.

That fast? I want to groan and bury my head in my hands, but all that spills out is: “I’m happy to help, but I’m the dullest man on the planet and I can’t do small talk.”

She chuckles. “Anna has dated several athletes. You can’t be worse than them, trust me.”

What’s wrong with athletes? Do I want to know? Probably, yes. “What did they talk about?”

“Stats. Competitors. How they were three tenths of a second off a gold medal. I think Anna has enough of that in her life already.”

I laugh. They have no idea how boring tech is. “I can talk a good game about voltage differentials across a resistor.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“What do I need to wear?”

“A suit of some description. Janus said his PA was going to courier a few options over to you.”

Holy shit. I’m struggling to make the rent on this little unit in Brooklyn and people are couriering designer suits around New York. But “Great!” is all that comes out.

“They want you at Anna’s apartment at 5:30 p.m. sharp to get you ready and give you a briefing. Is that okay?”

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