He was fast to say, “I wasn’t a great student. I have a lot of catching up to do.”
He talked aboutGreat Expectationsas if it were the superhero Olympics. He couldn’t decide if he loved or hated Miss Havisham. His enthusiasm was infectious. As cheese hung from a slice of pizza to his lip… it had been easy. I added more titles to his list, insisting he needed to readLord of the FliesandBrave New World.
“Earth to Drew.” Orion waved a hand in front of my face. “Coming back to us, space cadet?”
“Just thinking another friend would never hurt.”
“Yeah. Friends.” He leaned back and whipped out air quotes. “Friends. Nobody goes to space for a friend.” Sliding off the chair, he gave me a nod. “Careful, it’s the unsuspecting ones who get under your skin. I should know.”
“What if Booker is an artificial intelligence, too?”
He shot me a dirty look. “No, Drew. Conspiracies aremything.”
Snatching my coffee, I followed Orion toward the elevator. I pulled out my phone, staring at the last text from Booker.
Booker: Not my worst “date.”
Date. Such a loaded word, even in a friendly manner. He had piqued my interest. Unfortunately… like everybody else, he only knew Drew. For anybody else, another friend would be wonderful. For me, it meant another person who only saw the mask.
Unknown: Have you reconsidered my offer?
Drew: Who is this?
Unknown: Had many offers lately?
Drew: Carmen, your cloak-and-dagger methods aren’t impressing me.
Unknown: The offer has an expiration date.
Drew: It expired before you offered.
“Did somebody spit in your food?”
I looked up from my phone to see Booker rounding the corner. He traded in the trench coat for a soft mint-green shirtand crimson-red slacks. I didn’t have the heart to ask if he was attending an off-season Christmas party. Did he know the shirt made the hair of his beard turn more red than orange?
“Telemarketer who won’t get the picture.”
“Want me to have them terminated? I know people.”
A scientist walked by, his eyebrow raised. “He’s just joking.” Then I saw his face, that adorable smirk. “I think?” I mumbled.
Standing outside one of Synergy’s labs, I wanted to ask him if he had started either novel I had suggested. It’d be perfectly normal for the only two people without lab coats to discuss literature from our childhood. I had nearly worked up the courage to pick up where we left off when Ms. Keyes rounded the corner. Despite Booker calling the meeting, she seemed surprised to see us.
“I know,” she started, “I couldn’t give you credit by name. Booker, you know how the government likes to play it close to the chest. Drew, Arthur asked me to keep your name out of the media to protect your privacy.” She stopped just shy of the lab door, her hand resting on the handle. “But that’s not why you’re here, is it?”
Gesturing with her head, we followed her inside. Booker held the door open for me. “Ms. Keyes?—”
“Catherine.”
He waited for the door to close. “Catherine, we believe there’s another mole in the company.”
Her back stiffened. “Excuse me?”
She leaned against a workbench. I couldn’t make sense of the room. The lab had a robotic arm suspended from the ceiling and a reclined chair underneath. I had seen more than a few supervillain lairs with the same setup. Workbenches had computer screens, but otherwise it was immaculate. Did Synergy run experiments in here?
“It’s for DNA extraction,” she said. “Some of our volunteers have thicker skin than you or I. It requires mechanical assistance.” This was the exact place Wyatt had nightmares about. I’d have to remind Arthur to never send him over here for errands.
Booker didn’t seem as bothered as I was. “You have another mole. Our work isn’t done here. If you don’t mind, we want to get back to it.” His words didn’t leave room for negotiation.
