Page 49 of Persuading Liam

“We need more coffee,” Fin declares mid-morning the next day. Her eyes are wide and terrified as she looks up at me from her laptop.

I don’t blame her—we’ve been working since six, and if I’ve timed it right, we might just get it done by Tuesday. “All of the coffee, I correct her.”

“But if I get up, I won’t finish this story, and if I don’t get coffee I might pass out.”

I stop my furious typing and look up at her. “Fin, go get coffee. If we don’t get some of this done, it’s okay, your grandfather is not going to be angry. I have a feeling he’s going to be pleased with whatever we come up with.”

She cringes. “I know. I know.” She takes a deep breath, finishes whatever she was typing and closes her laptop. “I’m going to run over to Coffee Haven, want your usual cold brew?”

I nod, “Make it a double.”

“I hear that.” She slings on her coat. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Take your time, Fin. Enjoy the fresh air, and let your brain settle for a moment. It will restart better when you get back.”

She snorts. “Right, like you would let yourself do that.” And with a jingle of the door, she’s gone.

I freeze where I’m sitting and soak in her words. Is that really the vibe I put out there? I’ve been on anxiety meds long enough I thought I had it under control. But, to be fair, this is a new level of pressure I’ve never encountered before.

I make a mental note to revisit my prescription and get back to work.

I finish the story about the fall craft fair I was writing and upload it to the website that will go live in less than a day and a half.

Sitting back in my chair, I stretch my neck and click the button that takes me to what the live website will look like when it goes live.

My blood runs cold when it returns an error of ‘page not found’.

Panic closes my throat, and my hands shake as I refresh, back out, and try again. Same error.

Taking steadying breaths, I click on the ‘chat with support’ link on the hosting site and watch in horror as a bot tells me that humans won’t answer until Monday.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Refusing to accept that this is how things are going to go down, I save everything, shut the site down, and restart my computer.

I even get up and pace for a few minutes in case it needs to think about what it’s done. And yet, when I try it again, it still says ‘page not found’.

When I call, all I get is redirected to a bot.

I must have a pretty distinct look of horror on my face when Fin comes back in because she nearly drops her tray of four very large coffees. “Oh my God, what happened?”

Waiting until she sets the tray down, I swallow to calm the nerves in my voice. “Um, all the items we’ve posted to the website are gone.”

Fin’s pretty face crumples as if I started speaking in Elvish. “What do you mean,gone?”

I throw my hands up and pace around a few more times. “I mean gone, gone. I finished a story, posted and then went to see what it would look like on the live page, and it’s all gone. The live page can’t be found.”

She shakes her head. “No, that can’t be possible. We’ve been using it all morning.” In a take-charge fashion I’ve never seen her use but instantly love, she sits down at her own laptop and flips it up as if she has business with a capital ‘B’ to attend to.

With a few quick keystrokes that look of confidence is gone and her shoulders sink with horror and confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Join the club.” I grab one of my coffees out of the tray and take a long drink. “And no humans are available to respond over the weekend. Only bots.”

“Then we need a new hosting site.” Fin answers easily. “With twenty-four-hour support.”

“Agreed.” I hand her one of her warm cups of coffee. It smells like caramel and cinnamon and makes my stomach grumble.

We sit in silence across from each other for a while, each sipping our preferred forms of caffeine, minds racing.

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