Page 78 of Seductive Architect
Drew and Arthur carefully opened their boxes while Wyatt tore through the packaging like a child on Christmas morning. As they took in the contents, I couldn’t help but smile at the expressions on their faces. I had never given gifts before, and I hoped they hit the mark.
“Earth friend,” Wyatt gasped. He held up a carton of his favorite chocolate bars. “This is magnificent.” He wasted no time tearing open the box and holding up a bar. “How did you know these are my favorites?” Perhaps from all the wrappers we found around the office? Or that hedemanded the vending machine have nothing but Choco bars. It had been a hunch.
“Orion,” Drew held up a book. I had once heard him talking with Arthur about wanting to be more assertive and thought it’d be perfect. “The Nice Guy’s Handbook for Taking Charge,” he mumbled. He pressed it against his chest, hugging the book. As our resident people pleaser, Drew never wanted to hurt people’s feelings. Hopefully, this helped give him some strategies.
Everybody turned to Arthur. He held up a coffee mug. “World’s Okayest Boss?” His eyes narrowed, but I caught the grin. Inside the cup stood a week’s worth of coffee imported from South America. It should keep the coffeemaker happy and him extremely caffeinated.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said. “Thanks?”
I gave him a quick salute. “Remember that next time you have to write me up.”
“We didn’t get you anything,” Wyatt said.
“He’s right,” Drew added. “You saved Vanguard. We should take you out for drinks or something.”
“About that.” I stood up, raising my arms in the air. “This is the best gift of all.”
With a thought, the confetti cannons installed in the corners of the room fired. Victory music streamed from their cellphones. Everybody jumped in their seats as it rained tiny, bright pieces of paper. Behind me , a banner unrolled along the wall. Their eyes went wide, and itconfirmed that getting out of bed early this morning had been worth it.
“I. Told. You. So.” When nobody replied, I pushed on. “What’s that? What was I right about? Let me tell you.”
Arthur’s head dropped into his palms. Wyatt had started a little dance in his chair. I had been dreaming of this moment, and I planned on milking it for all it was worth.
“I was right about the senator. The super-soldier program? Yup, right about that as well. Super computer… that wasn’t on my board. Citywide mind control, yup, that was right… Though, it wasn’t aliens.” Okay, so about half of my theories had come true. “I never want to hear anybody question my research again.”
“Fine,” Arthur said. “You were rightthisone time.”
Wyatt slid a chocolate bar in front of everybody. “We must celebrate friend Orion’s victory.”
Drew peeled back the plastic, hoisting the chocolate bar into the air. “To our slightly eccentric truth seeker.”
Even Arthur held up a candy bar. Wyatt skipped the cheer and had already devoured half of his. I couldn’t help but smile as I returned to my seat. If the last week had proven anything, these people were like family. It was time to stop holding them at arm’s length and embrace our quirky dynamic. It didn’t lessen the void left by Connie’s death, but bit by bit, they’d help fill it.
“After work, anybody want to grab drinks at Bottom’s Up?”
Arthur’s eyebrow went up. I never suggested after-work activities. Things were going to change.
“Is a certain sexy super soldier going to be there?” asked Drew.
I nodded. “In fact, Wyatt, invite Dustin. I haven’t seen him since he started his company.” The mention of his boyfriend made those chocolate-smeared lips turn into a giant smile.
“And Ricardo.”
“I’m sure he could use a few stiff ones after dealing with insurance adjusters.”
Wyatt shook his head. “Appreciated, good friend, but Dustin and I are monogamous.”
Arthur snorted. “I meant drinks!”
“Good. It’s a date, then. For now, I need to chase bug reports.” I patted Arthur on the shoulders as I passed. Leaning in, I whispered. “I promise not to mention the janitor’s closet.”
The HeroApp™ had never run smoother.
Despite a day of crushing bugs, I didn’t feel much like celebrating. More than once, I had said, “Connie, can you…” and the grief started anew. The lack of quips in the back of my head or watching her blink in and out of view made the office feel too big and yet suffocating.
I flipped open the cabinet, staring at the physical embodiment of my best friend. When I reached out, hoping to hear something buried in the hard drives… nothing but silence. I could rebuild the server, create another A.I., but it’d never be her. The Connie I knew had died saving my life.
I sat with my grief.
