“Her name is Gertrude, and I’ll have you know she’s aging gracefully,” Josie says, her eyes shimmering. I get the impression she enjoyed tonight, that it was fun for her to ham it up for the cameras and showcase all her sides.
“Please apologize to Dame Gertrude for me. She’s a fine old lass, with a bumper to match.”
“Hey, you have to buy Gertrude dinner before you start talking about her bumper.” She smiles at me. “Actually, SynthoTech picked me up in a company car.”
“Ah, right. Page fourteen, last paragraph, subsection C.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, there’s nothing in the contract that says I can’t take you home myself. I didn’t bring the bike, though,” I add.
“Oh dear, no cool bike?” she teases, raising an eyebrow as she plucks a chocolate-covered pretzel from the bowl of snacks set out on a table. As she takes a bite, a tiny morsel sticks to her lips. I want to lick it off. “How will I ever survive?”
“At least this way, you won’t be holding on to me for dear life,” I say.
She laughs. “You think I need the bike as an excuse?” Then she gives me a look, one I can’t quite read, and I can’t tell if she’s saying it as Josie or as the app, keeping things flirty to stay in Gemini mode.
It’s a proper mind fuck that I just can’t tell the difference.
“By the way, the date was great, and of course, I took some notes today, but we will need more interaction data from you two in the coming days,” Theo cuts in, and I nearly jump. I forgot the lad was still here. Gotta give him credit—he acts like he hasn’t noticed a thing between us. Even if what we’re doing here is unconventional, it’s still a workplace. Josie is still my employee. “We’re hoping you might want to do something less fantasyscape and more normal couples-y, like spending a little time in a supermarket or something. We can take one public outing and then map an entire digital world from it.”
“What? An isolated picnic on a mountaintop with personal heaters wasn’t normal for a first date?” Josie asks, and I feel the beam of her light shift to Theo.
It feels colder now that she’s not looking at me anymore.
Theo’s just ruined my plan to ask Josie for a proper second date while privately driving her home. Because this is business, not pleasure. Right. I wish I was grateful for the reminder.
“We could go to the farmers market,” she suggests.
I blink, a bit lost. “Shelton has a farmers market?” I pretend not to notice Theo stifling a laugh behind his cough.
“You’ve never been? You’re in for a treat. They set it up every Saturday behind the public library. You’ll love it. It’s super quaint and cute. Small-batch yogurt, hand-pressed olive oil, homemade pies. And…” She bites her bottom lip, catches that bit of chocolate. “Then you can see how well you manage a date where you have to do it all on your own, Axe. No drivers, no handlers. No script.”
Ach, did she twig that last time, my team printed up a list of questions I could ask if things went sideways? I didn’t need to use them, not once—but I must admit, I liked having them in my pocket.
This woman has a way of making me feel off my nut.
“It’s been a while since I picked out my own apples,” I say.
“See? You can impress me—or at least AI me—with your secret shopping skills.”
The air between us is hot as firecrackers until Theo’s voice butts in. Again.
“Sounds perfect, mate,” he says in a horrendous Scottish accent.
My jaw clenches. I’d like to hook my fingers through those ear gauges and use them to lift him up and throw him into a wall so hard his grandkids will feel it. Instead, though, I nod. It’s not Theo’s fault Josie has me ass over teakettle.
“It’s a plan. Josie, me, and the farmers market,” I say.
“Chuck runs a stall there most weekends selling our jam. Maybe I’ll come along and bring my sketchbook. See you both live and in action.”
“No, mate,” I say. “We don’t want to make Josie feel like she’s being watched. The whole thing needs to feel organic.”
“No pun intended,” Theo says, but I ignore him. My eyes are on Josie. I want to see if she’s on board.
“Sure,” she says, flashing me another smile. “Just us.” Butthere’s a twist in her expression now, like she’s swallowing down a bit of nausea, and it’s unsettling. Is it the thought of spending time with me?
“Aye, just us, then,” I say, trying to keep it light. “But if you change your mind, that’s fine, too.”
