Page 80 of Debugging Love

“Cowboys are cool. Shapeshifters aren’t my thing.”

“I forgot. You’re a cowboy.”

“Yep.” He smiles down at me, tips his imaginary hat, and then finds a seat in the back row.

Even though it was imaginary, Chance’s hat-tipping was way better than Wayward’s. Chance really could be an actor, or a model, or anything else in front of the camera. Yet, he works at JetAero in South Carolina, moonlighting as a serial online dater. There must be more to his story, and I feel unexpectedly curious to learn what it might be. However, the show has started with a mean space battle causing all kinds of laser strikes and explosions. Not a setting amenable to getting to know a person.

I poke a few strawberries of my own and slide them off the toothpick onto my plate, and then I head up to the second row and claim a chair by Morgan. Forty-five minutes later, I like time-traveling werewolf space cowboys even less and I’m still hungry.

“I’m going to grab something to eat from the kitchen,” I say to my friends. “Wanna come?”

They both decline, which leaves me to myself. As I’m walking up the aisle, I quickly scan the crowd. My coworkers are engrossed in the intro to Episode Two, a couple of them munching on kettle corn. Chance isn’t among them. What if he’s in the kitchen? The thought makes my stomach flutter. Unacceptable. I need to maintain an air of authority, even during forced fun-time, and that’s what I’ll do. Hopefully he’s in the bathroom.

I search for the kitchen, letting my nose be my guide. When I find it, I’m relieved. Or is it disappointment? Either way, Chance isn’t there, but a gorgeous woman with wavy brown hair and pink joggers and a hoodie is. She’s cutting up more cheese while she monitors another batch of home-popped kettle corn.

“Hey there,” she says when I enter. Her perfect complexion complements the immaculate decor which consists of clean-lined cabinetry–a little modern but still appropriate fora historic home–shiny quartz cabinets and stainless-steel appliances that would be at home in any professional kitchen. Luke must take his cooking very seriously.

“Hey.”

She sets down her knife and walks over to shake my hand. “I’m Cassie.”

The owner of MatchAI, successful entrepreneur, girlfriend of a wealthy venture capitalist. That explains the professional handshake. This woman is out of my league.

“Help yourself. The empanadas are in the warmer along with stuff to make cheesy nachos and chicken fajitas.”

She heads back to the stove and gives the stainless-steel soup pot a shake so the popcorn doesn’t burn. “And you are?” she asks over her shoulder.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Danni, minion to the minion.”

She responds with a healthy laugh. “Is that what Christopher calls you? His minions?”

“Nah. He calls us his plebes.”

Cassie laughs again and then takes the popcorn off the burner and pours it into a bowl.

For being rich, Cassie seems pretty down-to-earth. After my dad left, my mom, sister, and I survived a couple of years just above the poverty line. When my mom became head manager at the grocery store, things got a little easier, but there wasn’t any extra for fancy kitchen remodels and haunted swimming pools and spare bedrooms. If mom knew how much money I’m making now, she’d think I’d won the lottery. I’d quickly remind her that a large chunk of my lottery winnings is going to school loan payments.

“You have a really nice house.” I head over to the island where blue flames are warming a row of aluminum pans.

“It’s not mine. I’m just here a lot. Wait a minute!”

I freeze.

“Oh, sorry. You can grab some food. I just remembered. You’re the person Christopher gave the MatchAI coupon to. And he bought you tickets to the Excursion’s maiden voyage?”

“Yup. That’s me.” I start moving my muscles again, plating a couple empanadas and a pile of corn chips that I douse in white cheese sauce.

Cassie leans against the counter by the stove and folds her arms. “How did the date go?”

I glance behind me to make sure no one is listening, particularly Chance. “That’s a tough one to answer.”

Cassie’s expression falls. “Not good?”

“He used an avatar, so I thought he was a blond guy, but turns out he wasn’t.”

“That’s against our terms and conditions. Did you report him?”

“No. It’s fine. After the date we found out we’re neighbors, and then the following Monday, he started working at JetAero.”

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