13

  THOMAS

  Late on Saturday morning, I’m still in bed, unwinding after a night out with my old Harvard buddies most of whom now are investment bankers, hedge fund whizzes, or tech entrepreneurs. We went to a few bars and a club, the best New York has to offer. And it should’ve been a great night. Everywhere we went, women flocked to us, competing for our attention. In the past, I would’ve been delighted, but not last night. There was only space for one woman in my head. I kept picturing Reese, trying to imagine how she’d comment on the music, the surrounding people, the drinks, the atmosphere.

  What music does she like? What was she listening to when I walked in on her stripping? I never asked.

  Last night, I also itched to learn how she’d respond to my touch if she were there with me. I missed her sharp wit and sarcastic comebacks.

  I missed her.

  Her brown eyes. Her smiles and most of all, her scowls. Her pink-tipped locks that I’m dying to slip through my fingers. Not to mention I’ve been plagued by vivid images of our first encounter, buttocks swaying, bra-cupped boobs, and toned stomach.

  I pass a hand over my face, trying to wipe the images away. But it’s no use.

  That woman is a riddle. After our rocky start, I can tell she’s warming up to me and that she, too, felt the spark between us. But also that she’s trying to deny the attraction with all she’s got and escape the pull. Why?

  I roll to the side of the bed and find K-2P hovering next to it, red lights blinking behind his eyes.

  “Oye, tio.” I jolt in bed. “Menudo susto me has dado.”

  The red lights blink at me. “What?”

  “Sorry, whenever I’m angry or scared the Cuban side of my brain takes over. I said you scared me witless.”

  “Are you part Cuban?”

  “Yeah, my mom.”

  “So cool.” The robot whirls excitedly. “You speak fluent Spanish?”

  “Yes, I’m bilingual.”

  “Will you teach me?”

  I pull up on the bed and frown at him. “Don’t you just need a Spanish add-in uploaded to your frame to learn a new language?”

  “I’d rather learn the traditional way.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll teach you. Te enseñaré.”

  “Weeeeeee.” He blinks his lights with a chirp. “Anything I can do in return?”

  “Actually, yes. Could you answer a few questions?”

  “I can answer most questions.”

  “I’m not talking academics; I meant personal questions.”

  “Uuuuuuh,” K-2P hoots. “Are we about to gossip?”

  I smile because how can I not? She even made her droid irresistible. “Yeah, you could say so.”

  “Fire away.” If K-2P had knuckles to crack, he’d be cracking them now.

  “What do you know about Reese?”

  The droid hums as he gathers his info. “She’s from the town of Ashland, New Hampshire, and she studied mechanical engineering at MIT on a full scholarship. Reese also has a master’s in mechatronics and a PhD in applied robotics.”

  “What about her family, are they close?”

  “No. She’s never met her father. He bailed when her mother got pregnant. And her mother isn’t exactly a nurturing figure⁠—”

  “Not nurturing how?”

  “Self-centered, more worried about her boyfriends than her daughter. She calls only when she needs money or something else. Reese has no siblings.”

  “Friends?”

  “Not many, probably none. Only Maria, perhaps? But they don’t hang out outside work. Reese thinks it’s inappropriate to get too personal with anyone in our department since she’s their boss.”

  Mmm. Is that why she’s keeping me at arm’s length? Because we work together?

  “And why doesn’t she have friends outside of work?”

  “In school, she always moved ahead faster, graduated sooner than everybody else and that didn’t exactly make her Miss Popularity.”

  I smirk. “Are you quoting her words now?”

  “Affirmative.” The robot finishes with a satisfied beep.

  “Anything else?” I ask him, needing more information.

  Another pause followed by another beep as K-2P collects his circuits. “Nope. She takes great pride in her work and is highly dedicated.”

  K-2P isn’t getting the hint so, aware of the shady ethics of drilling the robot for personal information about his maker, I ask outright, “What about past boyfriends?”

  “Two of notice. One was a systems engineering professor who turned out to have a secret family on the side. The other was a brainy engineer who couldn’t cope with Reese’s career advancing faster than his and her making more money.” K-2P pauses for a moment to allow me to take in all that he has told me, before finishing with one last piece of vital information: “She hasn’t been in any sort of relationship since that last one.”

  K-2P’s answer leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I know what it feels like to be rejected for being who you are, and how unfair that is. So how do I show Reese I’d accept her fully? That her superior intelligence wouldn’t be a problem for me. I might have more money, but I’ll never have a mind as bright as hers.

  My brows crease inward as I process this new insight into my mystery woman. Reese has been hurt before. Maybe that’s why she’s so determined to negate the spark between us. Or more simply she doesn’t want to get entangled in a workplace romance after having sacrificed so much for her career.

  But if she’s willing to ignore the spark, I’m not. She’s the first woman who’s made me feel any sort of excitement since a few years back when my ex, Charlotte, wrenched my heart out of my chest, threw it to the ground, and walked all over it with her stiletto heels. I know what it’s like to be hurt by someone you love. The pain has a way of seeping into our lives, leaving us broken and battered. I know the depths of that suffering, yet I am also driven by a desire to keep going, to heal, and eventually to find joy again.

  Or at least, enough time has passed that I’ve sufficiently healed to want to try again.

  “How long ago did that relationship end?”

  “Roughly two years, when she got promoted to head of R&D at Mercer Robotics.”

  So, the wound is fresher than mine, but not so fresh that she can’t be receptive to making a new connection.

  Two years is a long time to be alone. I should know, I’ve only had insignificant trysts in the past four years—my fault probably as my heart has never been in it. But this time it feels different. Reese is different from any other woman I’ve met. She’s someone worth fighting for.

  “Do you think she might like me?” I ask, guessing what K-2P’s answer will be, but still wanting to hear it.

  The droid turns and focuses his lenses on me. “You’re not her type.”

  From the way she looks at me sometimes, I wouldn’t be so sure. “How am I not her type?”

  Condescending beep. “Can you tell me what a Jacobian Matrix is?”

  The word matrix only makes me think of the Keanu Reeves movie. “I guess a full-scale virtual reality construct of the world has nothing to do with it?”

  K-2P lets out a beep all too similar to a scoff. “You’re not her type.” And as if to signal the conversation is over, he wheels backward and turns to exit the bedroom.

  I take a deep breath before getting out of bed to follow him.

  “What is a Jacobian Matrix?”

  I’m not sure robots should be capable of condescension, but that’s what K-2P dishes out to me. “The Jacobian Matrix represents the differential relationship between the joint displacements and the resulting end-effector motion of a robot’s arm. Does any of that mean anything to you?”

  “No, but I can learn…”

  “Unless you want to go back to college and earn a degree in mechanical engineering with a specialization in robotics, I don’t think so.”

  I shuffle into the kitchen, busying myself with making coffee. “Okay, how about an opposites attract approach, then? She’s dated engineers in the past, and it has never worked out. Maybe I’ll be the perfect match for her, no?”

  One of K-2P’s white lights blinks to life in his dome and he points it at me third-degree style.

  “Do you want to just sleep with her or are you interested in more?”

  “What are you, her father?”

  “You could consider me more like her son.”

  “Don’t worry.” I raise my arms defensively. “My intentions are honorable. I can’t promise you we will fall in love and live happily ever after, but I can tell you I’m not scared of exploring a potentially serious relationship.”

  As I say the words aloud, I surprise even myself.

  “Well, okay then,” the droid says. “You get the benefit of the doubt, but don’t hurt her.” He wheels to leave the kitchen but not without giving me a threatening beep first.

  I slump against the counter and watch the droid roll away until he disappears somewhere in my apartment.

  As I stare at the view of a cloudy Manhattan out my window, I wonder since when it has become surprising to want to explore a meaningful relationship. A newfound yearning that’s more unexpected than I’m ready to admit.

  Probably since Charlotte walked out on me and left me to go be with a “real” man. That stung. Got me jaded about love for a year or four.

  With K-2P gone, the kitchen is completely silent, so quiet in fact that the silence is deafening. It’s the same eerie stillness that has filled my empty apartment for four years now. The loneliness is almost palpable—a suffocating, invisible fog that’s seeping into my lungs, threatening to choke me. In these last few years, my life has started to feel sort of pointless. Working, hitting the town with friends, pulling women, it has all blended into a vapid shell of a life.

  I have to give it to the old man, maybe Dad was right when he insisted that I needed a shake. Because for the first time in forever, I’m looking forward to something, and it’s Monday morning at work.

  But first, I have to survive the next two days. I could call one of my single friends, but all they’re interested in is sports and picking up women. The Knicks don’t play until later tonight, and I had enough interactions with women I was not interested in last night.

  I take my coffee cup and perch on the round dining table, looking out of the window. From this vantage point, I can see endless miles of open sky filled with possibility—a chance for something new and exciting.

  I wash my coffee cup in the sink, change into sweats, and head to my building’s gym. The usual crowd is there, engrossed in their workouts and oblivious to my presence. I warm up with a light jog and then progress to the lifting machines. As I move through my reps, some of the restless energy from earlier melts away.

  After an hour of working out, I know how to spend the afternoon.

  I shower and change into nicer clothes before I leave the house.

  K-2P stops me at the door. “Leaving?”

  “I have to go see my brother, are you going to be okay here on your own?”

  “Sure, can I watch TV?”

  “Err, yeah, I guess.” I turn on the satellite and give him the remote. “We’re going to watch the game together later tonight, okay?”

  “Sure. My system has calculated a 64.7 per cent probability that the Knicks are going to win.”

  I lift my arm in a high-five. “Way to go, buddy.”

  K-2P lifts a mechanic arm and taps his clawed hand on mine.

  Then he tries to pick a channel on the TV. He fiddles with the remote, letting out a frustrated beep-beep.

  “Are you okay?”

  “The buttons are too small for my fingers, but I can download the control app on my frame. Wi-Fi password?”

  Not sure if I’m letting the future Skynet take control of the world by connecting him to the internet, I give K-2P the password and exit the house.

  At my brother’s penthouse apartment, I’m not the only guest. A beautiful woman is sitting on the opposite side of Gabriel’s humongous sectional sofa, cuddling his cat, Latte, and sporting a smudge of chocolate at the corner of her mouth.

  I plonk down next to her with a heavy sigh. “Hi, everyone.”

  “Thomas,” Blake, Gabriel’s girlfriend, greets me. She’s used to me being the brother always in a good mood. Gabriel is the family grump. “What’s up with you?”

  I contemplate the ceiling before answering. “I’ve met the woman of my dreams.”

  Blake frowns. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Yes, since she wants nothing to do with me.”

  “Honey?” Gabriel turns to Blake. “Did you change the name on the door to The Lonely Hearts Club or something?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are everybody and their mother coming over to complain about their love lives?”

  I turn to the woman next to me. “You’re here for woes of the heart, too?”

  “Well, not exactly, but in a way…”

  I nod understandingly and turn to Gabriel and Blake. “You’re the happy couple in a grown-up relationship. The least you could do is listen to close family’s and…” I glance at the woman, prompting her to clarify her status.

  “Best friends,” she offers.

  “…and best friends’ relationship troubles.”

  “They had sex three times already today,” the woman says, supporting my claim.

  Gabriel, who I know to be very private with his life, shuffles uncomfortably on the couch and scowls at Blake.

  “You told her that?” he accuses.

  She waves him off. “Women talk, get over it.”

  “Only three times, Gabriello?” I tease, using the nickname I know irks him to no end. “You’re getting old.”

  “Quit it, Thomas, before I kick you out of my apartment.”

  I cup my mouth as if not to be heard by the others and turn to the best friend. “He’s joking. I’m his favorite brother.” Also, the only one he has. I offer the stranger my hand. “Thomas, by the way.”

  She shakes it. “Marissa.”

  “Ah, I’ve heard about you.”

  “Likewise,” she replies.

  I smile in acknowledgment and turn to the other two. “Anyway, I need advice.”

  “Wait a minute, I was here first,” Marissa protests.

  “I’m sure your situation can’t be worse than mine.”

  Marissa shares her predicament, admitting the clinic she was having a solo IVF treatment at accidentally made her pregnant with her ex’s baby. A non-issue, since she’s clearly still in love with the dude and he wants to go all in with her and become the official baby daddy. I call Marissa out on her non-existent problem, and it takes her about two minutes to admit she doesn’t have an actual reason not to get back with the doctor except that she’s scared. I also manage to swindle her into giving me the cat in the process.

  Once Marissa cracks a grin, I wink at her. “See? You’re smiling finally. Everything will be all right. But what about me, what do I do guys?”

  “How do you know this woman is not interested in you?” Blake asks.

  “She told me flat-out on day one not to flirt with her.”

  “How did you meet her?” Gabriel asks.

  “She’s supposed to tutor me on robotics, as per Daddy’s instructions. He’s decided I should replace Proctor once he retires.”

  “Emmet Proctor?” Gabriel’s eyes bulge. “Dad is giving you the robotics division?”

  I shrug. “I had the same reaction. Sending a business major to lead a bunch of hardcore engineers is like sending a sheep to lead a pack of wolves.”

  “And why the pivot?” my brother asks.

  “Apparently I have to step up if I want to deserve taking his place one day.”

  Gabriel low whistles. “You work together with this woman?”

  “If you asked her, she’d tell you she’s just babysitting me until I become her unworthy boss.”

  Both women chuckle and hoot at that.

  “Hey,” I scowl, “what side are you on?”

  “That of the woman.” Blake smirks evilly, and Marissa nods her approval. “Always.”

  “So let me get this straight, Dad gives you a new position to make you more responsible and instead, you flirt with his employees?” My brother massages his temples.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Doesn’t Mercer Industries have an anti-fraternization policy?” Gabriel insists.

  “Anti-fraternization?” My mouth falls open. “That seems a bit extreme. I’m not sure we can tell our employees who to date.”

  My brother scoffs. “Ah, says the guy who clearly never had to deal with the breakdown of a workplace relationship between employees and the dysfunction that causes. Maybe Dad was right that you need to open your eyes.”

  “I didn’t come here for a lecture. I came for advice.”

  Blake clears her throat. “What I think your brother was suggesting, albeit with his adorable grumpy tones, is that if such a policy exists, it could be why Reese is keeping her distance.”

  Ah!

  “Here.” Gabriel reads from his phone. “Mercer Industries expressively prohibits any romantic or sexual relationships between a supervisor and a subordinate (direct or proximate). This includes, but is not limited to, dating, romantic involvement, and sexual activity.”

  “Let me see that.” Gabriel hands me the phone and I keep reading. “Exceptions: In scenarios where an existing romantic or intimate relationship is present prior to joining Mercer Industries, or when such a relationship develops between two employees who are not in a direct reporting line to each other. It’s imperative for these employees to inform their supervisor or the Human Resources department.”

  “Those exceptions don’t apply to you,” Marissa notes. “You’re going to be her boss.”

  “Going to. Technically I’m not her boss yet. We wouldn’t be breaking any rules. And when I eventually became her boss, our relationship could fall into the already existing category.”

  “That’s a stretch at best.” Gabriel keeps being his usual optimistic self.

  “Listen guys, I won’t be her boss for another fifteen months. Anything could happen in that time; we could go on a date and decide we don’t like each other. It could all taper off in no time.”