Page 43 of Debugging Love

“And you’ll be the lead developer, and you’ll get to architect the app from the ground up using whatever technologies you choose as long as it’s the same tech stack we’re currently using, and…”

“And?” I try again.

“You’re one of our best coders, and since this project is high-visibility, I can use it as a bargaining chip during annual reviews to promote you to senior developer, which comes with a hefty pay raise.”

“No,” I say, realizing where this conversation is going.

“You don’t want a pay raise?”

“Of course I want a pay raise, but I amnotworking with Chance. No way.”

“And Heng. It’s why we hired them. For this project specifically. And you’re the one. You’re my gal, Danni. You got this.”

“Can it be anyone else? You don’t understand. He smells like alpine mist.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“It is when it never goes away.”

“I’m confused.”

“I’ve worked with coders like Chance before.” Including my ex, but I don’t divulge that hairy detail. “They can’t be reined in. They go off on tangents and over complicate everything on purpose to make the code hard to understand because they think it makes them look smart.”

“Chance comes well recommended. I’m sure he’ll be fine, and you’ll be a fine project lead and everybody lives!” Doctor Who reference. Christopher knows I watch the show. So does he. But this isn’t a plague spreading throughout London. This is real life,myreal life, and the next however many months of it, trying toget a stubborn mule to play by my rules. Is a pay raise really worth that?

“So, what do you say? You in?”

“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth after a heavy, resigned sigh. I’m not stupid. It’s more money. I’ll just have to figure out how to crack the code that is Chance. I’m sure it’s possible. And I guess I’m going to try.

I spend the rest of the afternoon in shorty-pants mode stewing over my upcoming work assignment. I’ve been in charge of projects before, so I know I can handle it, but they tend to go more smoothly when everyone is willing to cooperate and use the same development environment at minimum. I whittle away some of my time on Teams with Morgan, mostly her pep-talking me and assuring me that my baby (the R&D project) will be safe in Drew’s hands.

Yeah, Drew’s taking over. Christopher dropped that bomb on me as I was walking out of his office. He also said Chance and I will overcome our differences and work together to knock the socks off corporate with our benefits portal. He almost had me snowed until Chance walked by running his hands through his hair like he was in a men’s shampoo commercial, and I developed a distinct sense that I’m in deep doo doo.

At the end of the day, I putter around on my computer, brain-dumping my ideas for the benefits portal into a Word document. When I think Chance has had enough of a head start, I head home. A traffic jam slows me down, increasing Chance’s headstart and exponentially decreasing the chance of meeting him in the Wild Oaks parking lot.

Ah, but Chance likes to throw curveballs. I park in my customary spot without realizing I’m beside Chance’s car, without realizing he’sinhis car. I kick open my door as he kicks open his. He rounds to his back door and grabs handfuls of groceries while I gather my purse and lunch bag, exit the car, and smooth my skirt and my attitude. Chance and I are going to be working together. I should be nice.

“Best keep that root cellar stocked,” I say. “Winter’s coming.” When I’m feeling cringe, I go all in.

Chance looks at me weird and says, “Sure.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I got it.”

His forearm muscles sure do. They’re taut and ropey from the strain.

We head to our apartments side by side, in lockstep, left feet on the bottom step, and up we go.

“Christopher said we’ll be working on a new project together,” I say. Christopher didn’t tell menotto tell Chance, so I think I’m safe.

He looks over at me but doesn’t say anything. We hit the top of the stairs. He still doesn’t say anything.

“Should be fun,” I say. And if he believes that, I have a pet snipe to sell him.

As I’m turning my key in the lock, Chance says, “Danni?”

I pause and look over my shoulder.

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