Page 90 of More Than a Spark

A smile swept over her lips. “Hi, are you Milo Richardson?” She clapped her hands in front of her chest.

“Um, yes, I am.” I stepped to the table with my portfolio. Henry hadn’t brought a portfolio. I should have left mine at home. Now I felt like an idiot.

The woman held out her hand. “I’m Lynda McDermott with AllAction. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Shaking her hand, I said, “Pleasure to meet you, too.” I leaned my portfolio up against the table and scanned around me. Another young man was seated at a table in the back of their booth, talking with an older man who was seated across from him. Wait, that wasn’t…Dice Recker? Holy fuck. My heart raced in my chest.

“What have you brought us?” She pointed at the portfolio.

“Oh, just some of my work that’s not digital.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see it or not.” Probably not, since the gaming world was exclusively digital and CGI.

“Oh, well, let’s see it.” She turned around. “Dice, can you come take a look at this?”

Dice stood up and slicked his trousers down his legs, then walked over.

“Milo, this is Dice Recker, one of our senior designers. He was responsible for the concept and story line of Night Invaders.” She held her hand out to him.

“Hello, Milo. Nice to meet you.” Dice held his hand out.

Staring at him with my mouth dropping open, I shook his hand. Holy fuck, I was meeting one of my heroes. His artwork was legendary. He was right here in front of me? “N-nice to meet you Dice.” He also had the coolest fucking name.

“I’ve taken a look at your online portfolio already and it’s good. So, let’s see what you’ve brought me.” Leaning over the table, he set his hands on the edge.

With my hands trembling, I unzipped the portfolio and slid out a few concept pieces I’d made with fine charcoals and pastels, then laid them on the table. No way would he think much of this. Why the hell had I brought it?

He tilted his head and pushed them around, rubbed his chin, then moved the top one, a dragon with spread wings in front of a mountain range as the sun set behind it. “So, what do you like to draw best? People, landscapes, or beasts?” His brown-eyed gaze met mine under his unruly salt and pepper hair.

“I-I guess people. Men, I usually draw men.” Heat swept up my neck. It was weird, so many dudes in my classes focused on warrior princess types, but not me. Probably because I was gay.

He pushed the dragon artwork aside and focused on the drawing below it, done in the same media, but of a beautiful man kneeling with a sword in extensive dark robes, his black hair long and billowing around his head, a graveyard with skulls all around. “This is good. I like it.” He nodded. "Yeah, I like it a lot.”

With a quick laugh, his gaze rose to mine. “I like it so much, it’s giving me an idea for a new game concept.” He held up his finger. “Hold on. Have to write it down or I’ll forget.” He stepped to a laptop, typed for a minute, then came back with a smile. “You’ll find you get like that. Something will set off a cool idea for a game and you’d better write it down or poof, it’s gone.” With a shake of his head, he laughed.

“Yeah, I could see that.” I gave a stuttered chuckle. Oh my God, this guy was creative as hell. What would it be like to work with him? But what about Ryder and the band? My heart stung. The guys could find another keyboard player. But fuck…Ryder. I licked my lips.

“So, this is good.” Lynda nodded, a grin playing on her lips. “Let me tell you a little bit about the company, what we have to offer, the benefits?—”

“All the boring stuff.” Dice rolled his eyes. “Listen, kid, all the gaming companies offer about the same packages. The question is”—he leaned in, laser focused on me—“do you want to work on some of the most innovative games in the industry? The games we have planned over the next few years are going to blow people’s minds.” He wagged his brows at me.

“Uh, shit, really?” I slapped my hand over my mouth and glanced at Lynda. I swore in front of an HR rep at a job fair. What was wrong with me? “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ll overlook it, won’t you, Lynda?” Dice patted her shoulder. “He’s too talented to worry about that.” He faced me. “You’ll love the team of designers we have in Seattle and our coders? Truly the best. The effects they can do…” With a shake of his head, he bit his lip. “Okay, I’ll let you go now and talk about benefits.” He tapped my artwork. “Really stunning stuff. I’m serious. None of these other guys brought me the real deal on paper. Plus, we need people who like to draw men.” He lifted the edge of his mouth, then walked off and dropped into the chair at the back table.

With my heart beating in my throat, I stared at him. I’d hardly said a word to him, but he was talking like I was already hired.

Lynda coughed into her hand, then smirked at me. “Well, you certainly impressed him.” She pushed a folder toward me with the company logo on it, then opened it up. “This shows our benefits packages, healthcare, vacation, stock, 401K…”

I attempted to focus on her mouth, but her words refused to register. Dice fucking Recker liked my work.

* * *

I openedthe front door to the band house and stepped inside with my backpack slung over my shoulder and my portfolio in my hand. My mind replayed the scene with Dice and Lynda over and over. If that had been a job interview, it was the strangest one I’d ever had. But then, Dice was hella creative and the job had been for a position on his team. I had a feeling he’d never done a conventional interview with the people he’d hired.

Cash sat on the black leather sectional, scrolling on his phone, then looked up and tossed the phone on a cushion next to him. “Oh, you’re home. How’d it go? You had the job fair thing today, right?”

“I did.” I set my portfolio against the couch back, then slid my backpack off my shoulder. “It went really well.” Puffing out a breath, I fell in beside Cash. “I met Dice Recker today, the guy who designed Night Invaders.”

“Seriously?” Cash’s eyes popped open. “That was one of my favorite games when I was in high school.” He shifted to pull a leg up between us on the couch, then patted my knee. “Tell me more.”

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