“Yeah, I wouldn’t eat anything,” a voice said beside me.
I whipped my head, and my eyes widened. It was a man who looked to be around my age. He had perfectly styled, curled black hair that sat on the top of his head, and a neatly trimmed beard. He was tall, at least 6’2”, and his eyes were the most piercing blue I’d ever seen.
“The food has always sucked,” he continued.
I was struck by his words. Though I hadn’t spoken to many people here, everything was passing pleasantries and saccharine laced words. This was the first real opinion I’d heard all night, and it was like a breath of fresh air after a long day inside.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, not knowing what else I would say.
He waved to the bartender and ordered himself a drink. A deep amber liquid came that he drank slowly. I watched as he worked it in his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement.
His gaze was still stuck to me as well. It felt as if we were having some strange moment I didn’t really understand. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“What?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never seen you here before. And I’ve seen everyone.”
“I was obviously invited,” I said.
He continued to look at me as if I were a puzzle he was trying to solve. “Yes, but you don’t belong here.”
I sucked my teeth in irritation. “What does that mean?”
He didn’t seem to be phased by my snippy tone. “It’s obvious. You don’t have the hardened fake smile that comes with years of this bullshit.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, it felt more like an observation than anything. I continued to sip my drink, looking out at the crowd. I noticed all the trays stayed full, as no one took anything from them, and there were lots of smiles that went sour as soon as they turned their backs.
“And you don’t have one?” I asked.
“Of course I do,” he said. “Not like I use it when I should.” He turned to me fully then.
I had to admit, he was attractive. Not just the polish he upkept, but his strong nose and chiseled jaw that could have been made from stone. And his gaze was … intense, to say the least. Especially when it moved down and back up my body like a caress.
I could feel my cheeks heat something harsh, and a flame was lit in my core, all from a single glance. This man was dangerous.
“So, like I said,” he stepped even closer. “What are you doing here?”
“An app,” I said without thinking.
“App?” he questioned, his brow raised.
I cleared my throat. “Yes. My friend and I are app developers. Good ones. I’m trying to gauge interest.” At least I didn’t say ‘get as much money as possible.’
“What kind of app?”
I couldn’t tell if he was asking in genuine interest or not.
“It’s an organizational app called PlanD. It allows users to schedule meetings, project deadlines, manage appointments, all using AI.”
“Sounds like something I could do with my google calendar,” he commented. Not rudely, but just factually.
“But it can do so much more,” I said, getting excited to finally discuss it. I grabbed my phone and pulled up the screen grabs I had. “Not only does it have a sleek interface, but it connects with your email, messaging services, and even your phone, and will add things quickly. And, once it gets to know you, it can lay out entire project plans based off of a due date.” That was something we were particularly proud of and took a lot of time to get just right.
He listened as I spoke, looking at the images carefully. When I was done, I realized his shoulder grazed mine to get a close enough look at the screen. Though his suit sat between us, I could feel the warmth of his body, and it sent a strong current through my entire body.
“This is interesting, if it works,” he said.
“It does,” I insisted, putting my phone back in my pocket.
