"Honestly? Yes. I finally got all the libraries and repositories and licensing information from all of the teams, right? And I'm trying to compare it against the closest matches with Atmosphere—nothing is exactly one-to-one parity, but close enough, and it's just not fucking working." He slaps the table and lets out a hissing breath. "Sorry. I'm just… frustrated."
"I can think of something to work off your frustration," I mumble under my breath. He cocks a half-smile but massages his temples. I shake my head and smile. "Yes, I'm still good with pivot tables. Give it here."
He spins the laptop around to me and leans back in his chair again. I tap into the spreadsheet, fully ready to dog walk that motherfucker, but I stop in my tracks.
He didn't need my help. God, he's a good actor. He's created a questionnaire form. Right there on the screen, he's listed several date ideas and provided drop-down menus for each so I can rank them according to my level of interest.
"You massive dork." I try to hold back my laughter, but it doesn't work. A shrill giggle forces its way from my throat, and suddenly, I can't wipe away the tears rolling down my cheeks fast enough.
"Think you can help make sense of all that?" He raises his eyebrows with a cheeky smile.
Once I manage to catch my breath, I nod. "Yes, yes, I can."
I have to hand it to him: he's really put together a nice list of things we both would enjoy. Walking on the High Line, going to the Met, looking at the celestial art on the ceiling of Grand Central station, ice skating (he'd beterrible), eating at any of the sushi places I never felt up to going to alone… any of these would be fantastic.
However, I still dutifully rank them according to personal taste—and he's even allowed for a text field for notes, which is thoughtful. As soon as I lift my hands from the keyboard with an expectant smile, he whips the laptop around and studies my responses. He lets out an interested hum and shoots me a delighted grin.
"So, the High Line on Friday?"
"Oh, that sounds lovely, Mr. Sanders," I ooze with fake Southern charm. Wait, hang on. Darrell's daughter's party. "Actually, I can't. It's Fiona—Darrell's daughter. Her birthday is on Sunday, and I'm supposed to bring cupcakes. And the amount they need? It's going to be a two-day preparation frenzy."
"Ah, right." He types out a note on his computer. "Maybe next weekend then."
A connection fizzes to life in my mind, and my eyes widen in surprise. "Uh, Dustin? Is this… on Atmosphere devices? On their servers?"
"Nope," he chuckles. "I'll explain later. Speaking of later, I really did want to ask for your help with some data optimization."
"Really? Okay—shit, it's almost five." I grimace. "Are you really going to make me stay late again?"
"No, no." He waves his hand. "I was thinking you could walk with me to the apartment Atmosphere put me up in. I mean, unless that's too much? Please, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Oh, Dustin. You could never." Excitement and joy fill my chest, beaming out of my smiling face. "I'd like that very much, actually."
"Great. It's settled, then."
Floating through the (very short) rest of my day, I pack up my laptop at four fifty-eight and wave goodbye to the team. Darrell gives me a knowing look that I pointedly ignore.
Somehow, though, I manage to miss the five o'clock stampede and find Dustin already waiting on the busy sidewalk. He's buried in his phone until I walk up and tap him gently on the shoulder.
"Shit—hey," he recovers smoothly. "Sorry about that. Alicia—you remember my sister, right?—her older kid, Orion, got ahold of her phone, and I was trying to decipher toddler texts."
"Older kid? Jesus, I've missed so much. Alicia haskids?Multiple children?" I'm gobsmacked. Alicia is only a year younger than Dustin and me. I mean, I shouldn't be surprised. We're thirty-two, thirty-one is a very normal age for people to have children. But I always feel weird when my friends announce their pregnancies. Are we excited? Are we upset? I just have to wait for the social cues before I offer anything other than awow.
"She sure does." He smiles, but a look of concern crosses his face. "She's got two. Orion is four, and Nova is almost two. Their dad, uh, passed."
"Shit." This is a whirlwind of emotions. Baby sister Alicia haskids?And a… partner, I guess, who died? My heart hurts for her. I want to reach out, but maybe that would be weird. Like,hi Alicia, I'm fucking your brother again. Heard your kids' dad died. What have you been up to?
"Okay, what I'm about to say sounds horrible. But it's honestly better that way. He was a horrendous person, but he left her an insane amount of money from life insurance.The kids are taken care of. Their great-grandkids will be taken care of." He smiles sadly. "I just wish he never put her through any of the strife before setting her up."
"You guys are still here?" Felicity bounces up to us, her dark curls swaying with every step. "I thought you both left—before five, I might add."
"Oh, hi!" I swivel and force a cheery smile. "We were just discussing some data optimization."
"Data optimization? Maybe you should date a girl!" A group of teens rush past us, cackling loudly at their joke.
Dustin mumbles something that sounds likeI'm trying to.
"Jesus, God." I groan. "Dustin, shall we?"
