I went full throttle into the gig at Brain Chill straight out of college and look how that turned out. If I hadn’t had old friends at home, making sure I ate, used my legs occasionally, and engaged with other humans IRL, that job would have devoured me whole.
I’m definitely going to take things slower this time around, which means Sam and I will be living in separate countries for the foreseeable future. I may not be an expert at dating, but even I know long-term relationships are notoriously hard to maintain. Evie and Ian are making it work, but only because he’s a millionaire who can afford to fly back to visit her every time he has three days off in a row.
Sam seems to be doing well for himself, but I’m sure his job is demanding, too. He won’t have the time to come flitting back to NYC to visit me, even if we decided a long-distance thing was a good idea.
Which reminds me…
“So, what exactly do you do?” I ask as he finishes texting his friend and tucks his cell back into his pocket. “You said you’re in a different division than the gaming crew, but you never explained exactly what that division is. Or what you do there, aside from jet-set around, offering old friends jobs.”
“I jet-set around offering people I don’t know jobs, too,” he says, looking a little uncomfortable. He recrosses his legs and rolls his shoulders back. “Is it just me or have the seats shrunk in the past six years?”
My lips hook up on one side. “I think you grew, Sasquatch. Your shoulders are ridiculous. You look like you should be acting in a superhero movie, not recruiting nerds for Paradisus’s plans for world domination.”
His head rocks back on his neck as a frown tightens his forehead. “World domination?”
“Yeah. You know that’s what they’re up to. With a mysterious, ego-maniacal billionaire running things behind the scenes and such a wide diversity in their subsidiary companies, they have to be up to something big. Why else would a software company want to invest in experimental energy, sustainable agriculture, homes made of recycled trash, and space travel?”
He crosses his arms over his chest as his frown intensifies. “How did you find out about all that? From what I understand, those companies are supposed to be well-concealed.”
“Come on, give me some credit. I may not be as good at digital detective work as you are, but I’m no slouch, either. It takes more than a few shell companies and bank accounts in foreign countries to fool this girl.”
Sam sighs, looking more distressed by this news than I expected.
“Hey,” I say, pressing my knee against his thigh. “Don’t freak out. It’s not a big deal. I don’t think they’re planning something sinister, per se. They’re probably just looking to combat climate change and see if we can live on Mars, or whatever, but I don’t regret doing some digging. Honestly, I’ll probably do more before I make my final decision.”
“But why? What made you think Paradisus is a nefarious entity?”
“I don’t,” I say, lifting a hand into the air, fingers spread wide. “I’d do the same with any giant corporation. They have so much power these days. A few companies control most of the decisions made by the biggest countries in the world. If they can do that, imagine how easy it would be for them to crush one little employee if she doesn’t fit into their ethos or asks too many questions.”
“Paradisus wouldn’t do that to you,” he says with the absolute conviction of a cult member who is positive Father Magic Whiskers would never force his faithful to drink poison fruit juice.
Sam isn’t just a loyal employee; he’s a true believer in Paradisus, which is…a little scary.
“You can’t know that for sure, Sam,” I say gently. “I’m glad you’ve had a good experience there so far, but a company that goes to such great lengths to conceal their CEO’s identity raises alarm bells for me. And I’m not the only one. Lots of people get a bad vibe from Paradisus. Why fight so hard to keep the person or persons behind the curtain concealed if there isn’t something to hide?”
“Maybe they just want to maintain a certain degree of privacy and anonymity,” he says. “Like that singer who always wears a wig to cover her face.”
I purse my lips, considering the possibility, but it doesn’t resonate. “I doubt it. Billionaires live to flaunt their wealth and power. It’s their favorite thing to do after making tons of money and abusing their customers and struggling workforce.” I hurry on before the argument clearly forming on Sam’s lips can emerge, “And I know Paradisus has a reputation for treating their employees very well, but their CEO still pulled in an outrageous salary last year. What reasonable human being needs one point two billion a year?”
“Which means he or she paid taxes on that salary,” he says, his voice tight. “Most wealthy people avoid taking a salary altogether and use creative accounting practices to avoid paying any taxes at all. Instead of suspecting this person is a greedy creep, you should be giving them a high five for paying their fair share.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” I say, not wanting to get into a fight with Sam over some rich jerk neither of us will probably ever meet. “I’m just saying it’s important to remember where you are in the food chain. I’m definitely closer to ‘easy prey’ than a rich and powerful company with their fingers in a dozen different growth industries, and I’m proceeding with that in mind. That’s all.”
“Speaking of easy prey,” Sam says, his voice still guarded, and his gaze fixed on the New Jersey countryside flying by outside the window, “if your mom decides to give me a piece of her mind for being an asshole who hurt her daughter once and might do the same again, I should be prepared to put her fears at ease.”
I shift in my seat, crossing my arms over my suddenly churning stomach. “Just tell her the truth. That you needed a fresh start. She’ll understand.”
“You think?”
“Yeah, I do. I mean…I get it,” I add. “I didn’t at first, but once I thought about it, I could see where you were coming from. There are days when I wish I’d done the same thing.”
“Why?” he asks, looking truly mystified. “You had great friends in high school. No one trapped you in your locker in gym class while they stole your clothes or spread a rumor that you jerked off to baby panda videos, right?”
“Ew,” I say, my face scrunching into a horrified mask. “They said that about you? Who does that?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t want to do an internet search on panda fetishes, even in a private browser. It felt too disturbing.”
“I don’t blame you.” I give his thick thigh a pat, once again marveling at how strong he is now. But for the first time, I see the muscles for what they really are—a line of defense against feeling as powerless as he did as a teenager ever again. “And no, I didn’t have to go through anything like that, but I’ve always played it so safe. Deep down, I know there’s this adventurous part of me, who wants to break free, but…”