Chapter Twelve
Saturday evening, still hungry after devouring a high-priced meal of minuscule proportions, Hailey took a sip of wine while letting her eyes wander over Spencer’s chiseled features. He is too damn good-looking. She was glad she’d chosen to wear the second dress Delinda bought for her, a formfitting, knee-length emerald frock with spaghetti straps, because otherwise she would have felt dowdy next to him. He’d casually thrown a jacket over a button-down shirt and gray slacks, and somehow he looked as if he could model the outfit. Some people looked good in anything.
And nothing.
Oh yes, she remembered too well what was under his clothing.
Hailey tore her gaze from his and glanced around. More than one woman was shamelessly trying to catch his attention despite the fact that he was with someone. Handsome, confident, and in the news for making a name in the tech industry—Spencer could have probably left the restaurant with half the women in the place.
And according to Instagram he already has.
“What would you like to do after dinner? I’ve never planned a non-date.” All it took was for him to look up with that boyish grin for Hailey to forget about everyone else in the room.
“I told Mrs. Holihen I’d be back by ten.”
“That gives us a few hours.” His smile was easy and warm. “It’s entirely up to you how we spend them. I set up a couple of contingency plans, but you can suggest something entirely different.”
“Contingency plans?”
“I like to be prepared.”
She leaned forward. “This I need to hear. How does Spencer Westerly prepare for a night out with a woman?”
“Normally I just buy condoms and keep hydrated.”
She rolled her eyes skyward. “Charming.” He wasn’t pretending he hadn’t been with anyone else. A lot of people go through wild stages. Maybe I’m worried about nothing.
“This isn’t a date, though, so I took a different approach.”
“I’m afraid to ask what that was.”
He sat back, looking incredibly proud of himself. “I booked a helicopter tour of Boston, arranged a private harbor cruise on a yacht, and bought out Steve’s mini-golf in Mendon, in case you want to stay local.”
“You did all that? Seriously?”
His eyes burned with the same hunger she was fighting. “I want you to see that this time would be different.”
Whoosh. She could hardly breathe. It already is. This time is frighteningly perfect—the kind of perfect that is too good to be true. Nothing this good happens in real life, and if it does, there is always a catch. She grasped for a joke. “All that and no condom.”
“Oh, I brought some.” His smile turned lusty.
“‘Some’?” she croaked. No. Traitorous mind, don’t go there.
He took her hand in his. “Full disclosure. I felt guilty when I stuffed them in my pocket, but that guilt wore off. They have a long shelf life, and I didn’t expect to tell you I had them. I figured if you came across them on your own, we were probably doing something that would require them.”
Hailey imagined him having that very internal debate and burst out laughing. I want to believe in this, Spencer. His smile widened. Being with him was that easy. “Did you hydrate?”
He raised his glass of water with his other hand.
She laughed again. “Do I dare ask what it does?”
“Any athlete will tell you that performance is improved by maintaining optimal health conditions.”
“Athlete? Isn’t that a stretch?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve learned a few things along the way.”
She had the feeling that if she asked, he would have volunteered to show her. Instead, she blushed and glanced away. She wasn’t ready to take that next step with him. “I’ll take your word for it.”
His fingers laced with hers. “So what do you want to do?”
She considered the options he’d listed, but they were his attempt to make up for what he thought he’d done wrong the first time. She hadn’t needed fancy dates then, and she didn’t yearn for them now. “I’d like to see your office. The other day you offered to show me what you do, but I didn’t have time to see it. I have time now.”
He looked momentarily torn, like a child being offered a chance to do something he felt he shouldn’t. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I spent enough hours with you while you came up with concepts. I’d love to see what you moved on to.”
“All right, then.” Spencer called their waiter over and paid the bill. There was something magical about how he didn’t spare a glance at the other women in the room as they left. Before they were even at the car, he started describing how he’d solved the bandwidth problems. As they sped toward Braintree, he summarized the turning points that had brought him to where he and his company were today.
Hailey’s head was spinning from the terms he was using. She didn’t understand the difference between virtual reality headsets and the holographic AI processor that formed the cornerstone of his programs. Parts of what he was saying were so full of technical terminology, it was as if he was speaking another language.
And Hailey loved it.
His excitement was infectious. This was the Spencer she remembered, the reason she’d once been content to sit with him as he wrote code. The passion he brought to the process made it like watching a gifted painter. She was excited to finally see his masterpiece.
He parked in front of his building and practically dragged her by the hand through the foyer and up to his office. Intense. Driven. Boldly innovative. The Spencer she’d once loved was still in there, and she was falling for him all over again.
It wasn’t until he and Hailey were standing in front of the simulator that Spencer realized he had traded all semblance of coolness for exuberant geekiness. When she’d said she wanted to see his work, a switch in him had flipped, and he was reasonably certain he hadn’t stopped talking since they left the restaurant. I have all the finesse of a toddler.
But WorkChat is a large part of who I am. Everything has always come second to this dream.
Even Hailey.
It wasn’t something he was proud of, but there was no rewriting history. Given a second chance to go back and do it over, he wasn’t sure he could have done it differently. He would have wanted to. He wished he’d been more aware of her needs. But could he have put her before his dreams? Not back then.
Will letting her experience WorkChat help her understand why I needed to get here or remind her that I chose it over her?
He looked at her, trying to gauge her mood. “It doesn’t look like much from the outside.” Spencer typed a code into the security pad, and the door swung open. Without any programs running, it wasn’t much more than a large empty closet. He shrugged. “It gets better.”
She stepped inside without hesitation and looked around. “Do things come out of the wall?”
“They do. It’s one of the limiting aspects of each simulator. In order for a person to be able to sit on a holographic chair, a physical object must be present. In the beginning, the physical supports are designed around the program. However, once the simulator has reached capacity for retractable physical supports, programs have to be tailored to match the simulator.”
“I think I understand,” she said slowly, then pointed to the vents. “Does that spit out water like a 4-D movie theater?”
“Something like that. A good amount of brain research went into our design. So much of what we see is actually a filtered view our brain processes from an overwhelming amount of stimuli. We see, hear, feel what our brain decides is necessary for survival. What we can’t see, our brain often fills in. Sometimes what’s left out of a simulation is what makes it most believable. Name a place you’d like to go. I might have a simulation for it.”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Anywhere.”
“Today or in the past?”
“Would you want to go back in time?”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s a complicated question. I wouldn’t want to go back if it cost me what’s in my life now. But it would be interesting to see if anything was as I remember it.”
A younger Spencer would have plowed forward and shown her his projects, but Jordan’s program fit what she was wishing for. Hopefully, his friend hadn’t made any obscene additions to it. “There is a way you can, at least within the confines of my recorded life. Jordan took my old photo albums and created something you might enjoy. Stand close to me and try not to touch the walls.”
She smiled. “Is that what you tell everyone you bring here?”
“Usually anyone who makes it this far has signed a nondisclosure contract and has put down a substantial deposit. I’ve never brought a date here.” The pleasure that shone on her face filled him with warmth he wasn’t sure how to label. “Luckily, you’re a friend.”
Her smile wavered, and he regretted the stupid joke. “That’s right. Lucky me,” she said.
He wanted to say something to reassure her, but the rules they were following were hers. Not that he’d done well with keeping his hands off her or avoiding suggestive innuendos. He had, however, done his best to honor her request that they begin again as friends. “You might feel slightly disoriented for a moment, but it passes. Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Run photo album two. College quad background only. No isolation.” He put his arm around her waist to steady her if she needed it. The bland walls filled with scenery from their old college campus.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, gripping his side with one hand. She looked around in wonder. “It’s so real.”
“It gets better. Walk with me. The simulator was designed for one user. If you stay in step with me, the computer should read us as one and maintain the integrity of our location in space.” He took a step, initiating the floor to begin moving. She stumbled at first, but clung to him before matching her steps to his.
“Is this a photo or a video? How are we able to walk through it?”
“It’s actually a synthesis of every photo and video I have of the college campus. The computer meshes it all together and fills in what’s missing. Your memory or expectation of what should be there does the rest.”
“Wow. Just wow.”
They walked to where the images began to blur. “Jordan and I are debating if we should sync the program with media feed from the Internet. Doing so would eliminate the limitations of the experience, but it would introduce outside images into what is otherwise a memory database.”
They turned and began to walk back across the quad. “So you took all of these images?”
“I did.”
“How do you call up a picture of something specific?”
“What would you want to see?”
“Jordan?” she asked.
“Show Jordan Cohen.”
“There are three hundred two photos. Play through or isolate and merge?” the computer asked.
Hailey’s pace slowed. Spencer adjusted his stride to match. “That’s an interesting voice,” she said.
“We call her Riley.”
“Riley.” She shook her head. “Sorry. For a second there I thought—”
How could I have forgotten? Shit. “You’re not crazy. Riley utilizes artificial intelligence to expand the voice samples from our database. When I designed the software, your voice was what I had the largest sample of. Essentially, she guesses at how you would say any new word she’s introduced to, based on regional speech patterns.”
“That’s—that’s—”
“Incredibly romantic or creepy?”
Her smile returned. “Somewhere in between. My face isn’t on a robot anywhere in this building, is it?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. When she continued to look uncertain, he added, “I swear.” Then he thought of a caveat to his declaration. “Unless Jordan is working on something he hasn’t told me about.”
Hailey stopped walking completely and turned to look up at him. “I draw the line at robots.”
“I’ll tell Jordan.”
She smiled.
He did the same.
She placed a hand on one of her hips and said, “Show Spencer Westerly.”
“There are two thousand one hundred photos and seven videos. Play through or merge and isolate?” the computer prompted.
“You don’t want to see—”
“Yes, I do,” Hailey said with an impish smile. “Play through.”
The walls around them filled with one-dimensional images of a young Spencer in diapers. Each image remained for three seconds before being replaced by another, showing him ever-increasingly older. He was about to prompt the playthrough to end, but she was clutching his arm and exclaiming with each new image that was displayed something along the lines of “That is so adorable. Look at that. Aww.”
I was kind of a cute kid.
“Are those braces? You had an awkward phase? I love it.”
“End playthrough.” She was laughing, and he gave in to an undeniable urge, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to him. “I’m glad you find my pain amusing. That was a long year,” he growled into her ear.
She arched back to smile up at him. “Year? Cry me a river. I had a late growth spurt. Most of my teen years I endured being asked whose little sister I was when I was hanging out with my friends.”
He would have found that image amusing if his entire body wasn’t overheating. The feel of her against him made picturing anything besides kissing her impossible. No, I won’t ruin this. I promised I wouldn’t rush her.
She must have sensed, or perhaps physically felt, the direction his thoughts had shifted to, because she stepped out of his arms. “What else does it do?”
Pretty much that. Oh, the album program.
“It can create a hologram of a person if enough images exist to complete one.”
“Show Spencer Westerly,” she said softly.
Again?
“There are two thousand one hundred photos and seven videos. Play through or merge and isolate?” the computer prompted.
“Merge and isolate,” she guessed correctly, reminding him of something she’d always done that had impressed him. She wasn’t a gamer, nor did she claim to know anything about coding programs, but she could intuitively navigate them. In fact, if she’d struggled with part of a program, he knew it required an overhaul.
“Location?” the computer asked.
“Garage,” she said.
Her request floored him in that it was identical to his search for her. Was she seeking what he had been?
The walls of the room became the walls of the garage. A three-dimensional image of Spencer appeared in a seated position. He was working so intently he didn’t notice the arrival of whoever was filming him.
His image turned, and his face transformed completely. If either of them had ever doubted how he’d felt about her back then, it was right there on his face—pure, unrestrained adoration. “Hey, Sunshine. Want to see what I’m working on?”
The program skipped her response and went to his. His eyes darkened, and he turned off the computer behind him. “On second thought, it can wait. Come here.”
Spencer remembered exactly what had followed.
“End merge and isolate,” she said quickly, revealing that she did as well.
His image faded from the garage.
The only sound in the simulator was their heavy breathing. He would have taken her then, but he had enough regrets when it came to her. Their next step would come at her request.
“End garage,” she said, and he nearly groaned aloud.
I’m a grown man. I’ll survive.
Maybe.
He was acutely aware of every breath she took, every shift of her weight. The subtle scent of her shampoo was sexier than any perfume.
“Wow,” she said in a shaken voice.
“You can say that again.” There wasn’t an inch of her he wasn’t hungry to taste. If she gave me the option, where would I start? Her mouth is heaven. But that neck. It doesn’t really matter where I start because I’d work my way down . . .
“I’ve tried to convince myself over the years that it wasn’t as good as I remember, but it was.” There was a look in her eyes he hadn’t expected. It was conflicted and sad, reminding him of the first time she’d walked away. “Maybe thinking we can re-create that is a mistake.”
Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
A defensive wall rose within him that he’d thought had washed away after seeing her again. “No one is forcing you to be with me. You want to go? Go. I don’t fucking need you.”
Hailey took another step back. “That’s not very nice.”
“I never said I was nice.”
She held his eyes for a long moment. “Who are you, Spencer? I looked you up online. I don’t know that man.”
Shaking his head in disgust, Spencer spat, “Does it matter? You’ve already made your choice.”
Instead of leaving as he expected, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I stormed away, you could blame me again. Just like the first time.”
“You’re the one who left me.”
“Because you were just as thickheaded then as you are now.”
They stood there, both breathing heavily, in a sexually charged standoff.
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m doing the best I can. If that isn’t good enough—”
“Don’t go there. Don’t take the easy way out. I’m trying to tell you that I’m scared. You. This. The whole thing scares the shit out of me. I need to know if it’s real.”
“What do you want me to say, Hailey?”
She stepped toward him and laid a hand on his chest. “All I need is an honest answer. If I agree to give this a second chance, which Spencer would it be with?”