We sit in the conference room of a rich-person hotel. You can tell it’s a rich-person hotel because a chandelier hangs from the ceiling, catching the light and throwing it back outward. There are around one hundred tables, all full of brilliant men and women, dressed in suits and dresses. The sound of raised voices is loud, but it’s like there’s a pod around our table, closing us in. Silverware shines almost as brightly as the chandelier.
My trophy sits in front of me on the table. The dinner has been served and the plates cleared. Now, with shiny spoons waiting, dessert is going to be served.
“You really should have gone up there with me,” I say, facing both Nat and Maddox. Markus sits beside Nat, his hand casually on her leg. “Seriously,” I go on when both of them roll their eyes in unison. “Nat, you’ve been with me since the start. And you’re not just a contractor. You were involved from the start, helping me build the thing from the ground up. And you, Maddox—”
“I just got lucky,” he interrupts with a smile. “That’s the truth of it. When I was looking over the code, I just noticed something, which just by chance, I’d been taught last semester at college. I’m sure with enough time you and Nat would’ve figured it out. I’d be willing to bet on it.”
“And it was your idea,” Nat said. “I just helped.”
“Argh!” I grunt, wanting to bang their heads together. In my acceptance speech – made possible with a few complimentary glasses of champagne – I had gone out of my way to thank them both personally, by name. And then I’d invited them to come and take a bow on stage. Both of them infuriatingly refused.
“Are you still working on it, then?” Markus asks, looking like a giant sitting at a kid’s play set, hunched over. “Maddox told me you’re still working on it.”
“We are,” I say, pointing at Nat, and then to myself. “We are, aren’t we, Nat?”
“Oh, yeah, but I’d never take any credit for it.”
“Argh!” I growl.
“What’re you going to do with it?” Markus says.
“Turn it into a commercial game, hopefully. What I submitted for my dissertation was more of a ‘demo.’ More of a ‘taster’ if you get my meaning. It was good enough for a dissertation, but I want to make a whole game, with multiple levels, a storyline, everything.”
“But it will be expensive,” Nat says.
“Well, there’s the snag. But we can still add to it slowly, and it won’t cost so much.”
Markus and Nat fall into each other, start that whispering they’re so fond of, teenage lovers discovering their first love. I’ve never seen Nat so into a man, so completely consumed by one.
Markus rests his hand on my knee. Whispers of pleasure move up my thigh, beneath the hem of my dress, tickling me down there.
“I’m so proud of you,” he says.
“Of us,” I insist.
He gives my knee a playful squeeze. “Of you,” he says. “You’re brilliant, Eden. Truly brilliant. You’re the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met. He speaks with deep emotion, his voice cracking. I touch his face, which is fresh-shaved and smooth for the party. He looks handsome and strong in his tuxedo, tattoos poking up his neck.
“You’re getting soppy on me,” I say, but my voice is just as choked as his. “Anybody would think that you’re not a dangerous biker, someone to be messed up, but some kind of lover man.”
“Can’t say they’d be wrong, Red.”
We split apart when the dessert is served, eat it, and then come together again. He moves his chair right next to mine, and I half-sit on his lap. Champagne swells in my head and my chest, and for a few mad minutes, I can’t stop laughing. Nat looks over, winks at me, and goes back to crooning over Markus.
“Are you glad you stalked me that day?” he says.
I slap him lightly on the cheek. “Stalked, you love to provoke me, don’t you? But in answer to your question. Yes, I am glad. Very glad. It was completely unlike me, and I have no clue what exactly I was doing, but I’m glad I did it.”
“I am, too, Red,” he smiles and then kisses me hard on the lips.
I fall into the kiss. Only when Nat taps me on the shoulder, do we stop. Maddox and I grin at each other sheepishly. Music has filled the air while we’ve been kissing. Ballroom music, the kind of music you expect to hear in a fairytale movie, slow and graceful. I turn to Nat. Markus is standing behind her, looking terrified.
“You’re not going to force the big guy to dance, are you?” Maddox says.
“Afraid so.” Nat smiles. “Why don’t you two come up? Look, they’re clearing the tables.”
It’s true: the front tables are being neatly and efficiently moved to clear the way for a dance floor. Music sings out from speakers set high in the ceiling and low near the stage.
I turn to Maddox. “What do you think?”
He shifts in his seat. “I’m pretty good at fighting. But dancing? I don’t know.”
“Oh, well then.” I push my chair back and stand up, tottering on my heels from the champagne. “It looks like I’ll have to lead, doesn’t it?”
I give him my hand, and he takes it with a smile. “You always lead, Red,” he says. “Even when I’m leading, you’re leading, really.”
“Are you getting poetic on me, biker man?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckles, as I lead him to the dance floor.
It’s a slow song, and we dance softly, our bodies pressed together.