Page 88 of Some Like It Hott

“And so did Shane and I,” Ivy says. “For the same reason.”

I know what they’re trying to do, and I appreciate it—but I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up about this—including mine. I shake my head. “I think this might be a different situation,” I say. “I think I was a fun diversion for him while he was here, but—maybe that’s all it was.”

Ivy’s quiet for a moment. Then she says, “It doesn’t matter, you know. To us. Whether you end up with him or not. Once you’ve been through the Hott will wringer, you’re part of the family forever. You can’t get rid of us. You’re stuck with us. So you might as well get in and enjoy the water.” And she reaches up to take my wineglass so I can climb in.

I hesitate a moment. But the water steams temptingly, and their faces are all soft, smiling, and sympathetic. I lower myself in.

“To Fox Hott and his worst impulses,” Sonya says with a sigh, and Ivy hands me my glass as she and Reggie lift theirs.

So do I. We clink, and I recognize that the tightness in my chest now isn’t sadness. It’s something else entirely.

Belonging to this little group feels a lot like sinking into the soothing embrace of the hot springs.

46

Preston

“You’re a dead man!” bellows Thompson Merraker, closing in on one of PowerFun’s marketing people, brandishing his laser blaster.

The marketer goes down, having taken his last hit.

“Who’s next?!” Thompson cries. “Who’s the next dead man walking!?” He waves his blaster around like a deranged Stormtrooper.

From behind a foam obstacle, Julie Ambrose rises like a phoenix. “I. Am. No. Man!” she war cries, tearing off a series of blasts and pinning Thompson with his last hit.

He staggers, clutches his chest. He waves his fist at the sky and curses his misfortune. Then he goes down.

I’ve never seen him like this. In fact, I’ve never seen him in anything other than a suit and tie, buttoned up and deadly serious.

And this?

This is perfect.

Julie stands over her kill, crowing. “Vanquished!”

“Fair and square,” Thompson concedes, rising to kneeling and reaching out a hand to shake hers.

They’re both grinning.

They come to the side of the arena, where I’m standing, grinning myself.

“This was so fun,” Thompson says. “I haven’t had fun like this…”

“Since you were a kid?” I ask him.

“For a long time,” he admits. “Way longer than I want to think about. And what a great way to—ease tensions.”

Julie leans on the railing on my other side. “Smart move,” she says to me. “I don’t think anything you could’ve told me about Thompson’s capacity to be human would have gotten through to me.”

“Hey,” Thompson says lightly. “Go easy on your new coworker.”

She raises her eyebrows.

“Okay,” he concedes. “I have been accused of being an android before. But I do think PowerFun has a great business model, and to the extent it’s possible for us to let your culture percolate through ours—I think we’d benefit greatly from it.”

He sounds like an android again, but it’s a lot easier in this context to see that it’s a kind of awkward stiffness, not an inherent lack of soul. I hope Julie sees it too…and her wry smile in my direction tells me she probably does.

“Let me take your team out to dinner,” Thompson says.

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