“You’re the brother Vince told me about, right? The one running this gig?” She grins a little wider, taking my hand, and I’m pretty sure I lose the ability to think.
Not just that, but the touch of her hand on mine sends an electric jolt through me, straight down to my neglected cock. It hasn’t been touched by anyone but me in some time. Even that’s fallen by the wayside with my recent fixation on convincing my brother to give my ideas a try. Still, just the touch of Scout’s hand is enough to bring my libido roaring back to life, the room around us suddenly feeling small and hot despite its sprawling size.
Somehow, I recover enough to introduce myself. “That’s right,” I manage. “Tito San Giovanni. I am, in fact,running this gig.” I force a smile, but it’s not as hard as I thought because her smile is infectious.
Whatishard is my dick. Uncomfortablyand inappropriately, so. I shift, hoping she won’t notice, as her grip tightens on my hand.
“Scout Summers.” She introduces herself with that smile still on her lips. “Although you probably heard that weird-ass robot introducing me as I walked in, if you weren’t too distracted.”
“I was. Distracted, I mean. But I still heard her. It. The robot.”Shit.I’m stumbling over my words, making a fool of myself, and still holding her hand, which is also probably inappropriate in the circumstances. “Nice to meet you, Scout.”
“Likewise.” She pauses, glancing at the table strewn with my work and designs. “So, want to explain to me what it is I’ll be doing here?”
She comes to stand next to me as I turn back to the table, and I can feel the tension simmering between us. Or maybe I’m just imagining it. There’s a magnetism here, an attraction that I’ve never felt with any woman. But more than likely, it’s one-sided, and I’d just be causing problems by pointing it out by making a move.
This is my life’s work at stake. Mydream, more so than a partner or a family has ever been. Scout Summers is gorgeous and brilliant and, in every way, maybe a match for me, and in other circumstances, I’d be dying to find out.
The work has to come first, though. Maybe it’ll only ever be work. But as the time ticks by and we start to gush to each other about our love for the anatomy of good technology and the quality of the work by well-trained hands, I begin to forget why we’re both here.
As she talks, I get lost in the sweetness of her voice and the intelligence with which she speaks. Her cheeks get flushed when she laughs about the horrible robotics class where Mrs. Weaver told her she wouldn’t amount to anything with a robot so weak. She took that as fuel, not a beatdown or a mark of anything but a bitter teacher who never saw her real dreams come to fruition.
Fuck.I can’t believe what I’ve found in her. A combination of brilliance, humor, and unmistakable ambition and drive wrapped up in the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, I’d been hard pressed to understand what had made my brothers make the romantic choices they had, even when they seemed ill-advised and even dangerous, but now I do. I’m logical to a fault, always have been, but this connection with Scout threatens to undermine even that basic personality trait.
She’s perfection in every way. Perfect not just for this job, but forme, the one woman who really might be everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more. And for the sake of myotherdream, the one that’s coming to fruition in front of me, I need to put those feelings aside.
Scout Summers and I are, in a word, impossible.
3
SCOUT
Igot the best sleep of my life last night, or at least, as good of sleep as anyone could ever have with an old futon from Craigslist as their bed. I was up well before my 7 a.m. arrival time anyway, and took my time in the shower for once.Not too long from now, we won’t have to worry about the water bill. Maybe I can even splash out on some nice hair products.Curly hair doesn’t like the cheap shit, but it hasn’t been much of an option for me.
I head to work; the sun has barely risen, birds are beginning to greet the day, and the smell of propane in my rickety old car taking me down route 101 to the location Vince messaged me this morning. I’ll be two hours early, but I think it’s necessary, considering I have no idea what I’m stepping into, and I haven’t quit my day job yet. I just called in sick, something I never do, to give me time to assess what I’m actually doing. To see if I need to scurry back from my impulse to quit last night and go back to my main job at a data analytics company up the coast tomorrow.
I follow the directions to a tee, and it takes me to a tiny parking lot just up ahead by a towering sign that saysRick’s Scrub and Go. It looks like it used to be a car wash, but it’s clearly abandoned, except for an expensive-looking black SUV parked around back, and I assume, my new job waiting inside.
The area is nicer than where I currently work, but definitely not pristine. There’s one other car parked in the dirt lot, and I pull up next to it. My rusty green Subaru Outback next to this shiny black Bentley is a bit of comic relief as I step out with my satchel in hand and lock the door manually with my key.
“See you in a bit, Bug.” I tap the roof of my car with my palm as I stride to the entrance of the building. There’s a modern keypad at the doors, numbers glowing in the light of the early dawn. I type in the code that I’ve been given and wait as the lock clicks open. A small beep lets me know I’m good to go, so I grab the handle and pull it open, stepping inside.
A long hall of dark gray cinder blocks leads to double doors with a sliver of light underneath. I take a deep breath as I step towards it, hoping this is everything I’ve ever wanted in a job and I’m not being led to my death by stupidity. Should I have brought a weapon of some sort? It’s not like I even own one. All I have is pepper spray on my keychain. I guess that will have to do.
I hold it up close to my chest as I approach the doors at the end of the hall. With one last adjustment and creak, the door opens, and I feel like someone has swiftly punched me in the stomach when I catch a glimpse of what’s inside. Spotlights dangling from towering ceilings, hovering over varied stations. In the corner looks to be some sort of testing room with a mirrored glass to observe. On the right are long metal tables lined from the front to back walls in rows of two. Atop of them are gadgets and gear galore, with anything you could imagine you need to build anything from microchips to robots. The entire back wall has a surplus of tools and technology on top of everything else already visible.
As I open the door wider, I see the left side of the room, and it looks like little cubicles for coding, hacking, and probably research. By the looks of their advanced setup, these might even be able to do more than what I’m imagining.
I step inside, a robotic voice announcing my arrival. I instantly see the only other person in the room, or his back, at least.
He’s tall and broad, bent over a table, working on something. I cock my head to try and see around his brawny frame, but I can’t make out what he’s doing. I make my way toward him, hoping I can get a glimpse before he notices me. It must be Vince’s brother, and I can’t help my curiosity.
He doesn’t notice me until I’m already standing next to him; he’s so wrapped up in what he’s working on. A trait I can appreciate. “What are you working on?” I ask softly, seeing that he’s tinkering with the motherboard of a device the size of my palm.
“It’s supposed to be a tracking device,” he says without looking up.
“Don’t they already have those?” I realize too late that my comment might come off as sarcastic, but thankfully he doesn’t seem to take it that way. He still doesn’t look at me, though, toying with a wire as he moves it into place.
“No,” he says simply. And then finally, as if he realizes that his standoffish-ness could be construed as rudeness, he turns to face me and stops just as he’s about to speak, his hand extended.