Trade Me (Cyclone #1)(83)

“So it is his fault,” my mother says beside me.

“That is so not how it went down,” I say to the screen. “Blake, you idiot.”

“In any event,” Blake says with apparent good cheer, “this leaves me with two choices. First, I can keep quiet, stick around for the launch, hire lawyers, and let my girlfriend take the fall. Or…” Blake shrugs. “I can strike a bargain with the DA to get her out.”

“Well,” Adam points out, “she did break up with you, so I vote for door number one.” The audience laughs.

“I kind of think that announcing this on a live stream with—what are we at, David?”

“A hundred and six million viewers,” Yu puts in.

“Yeah. I think I’ve kind of shut that door.” Blake smiles. “Jokes aside, there was never any choice about what I was going to do.”

“There is that,” Adam says softly.

I have always been confused by Blake’s relationship with his father. It is, in so many ways, not remotely ideal. They swear at each other. They milk their friendship on stage for corporate good will. Blake’s dad put him in a commercial when he wasn’t even two years old. The first time I met Adam Reynolds, he offered me fifty grand to leave his son.

I told him I’d settle for sixty-six billion. In this moment, I realize that he would take that—that if it came down to it, if the choice was between Blake and his company, between Blake and those sixty-six billion dollars, he’d choose Blake every single time.

It may be f*cked up, but it’s love.

“But that’s between me and her, not me, her and one hundred and six million viewers,” Blake says.

“You know,” Adam puts in, “we could make it between you, her, and a hundred and six million viewers.”

Blake shakes his head. “No. Seriously. This we did not talk about.”

But Adam just looks up at the ceiling. “If only,” he says with a smirk, “we had made a video-capable smartwatch that could manage robust five-way video calling over a cellular network.”

“Dad,” Blake says sharply.

But time has seemed to slow for me. There’s no way I should be able to call in. Their tech automatically blocks all unauthorized calls to devices during the launches. But… Adam is looking calmly at his screen. I feel like he’s looking at me.

This is a true construct, truer than anything else. It’s a risk, a huge risk. If I make that call, everything will change. Adam Reynolds has just put in his sixty-six billion dollars.

The only question is if I’m willing to match him.

Without thinking, I pull up Blake’s contact information on my watch and hit call.

On my tablet, on the live stream, I see my name show up.

Incoming call: Tina Chen.

“Oh wait,” Adam Reynolds says. “We did.”

And then I’m on screen. There’s a horrible noise.

“Tina,” Blake says, “turn off the sound on your live stream or there’ll be feedback.”

I flick the mute on my tablet with shaking hands.

“This is not scripted,” I say. “I was in jail literally an hour ago. You people are crazy.”

“That’s not true,” Adam says smoothly. “It was scripted. I just didn’t tell you and Blake about this part. Thanks for playing along. Internet, meet Tina.”

“Hi.” My voice is shaking a little. “I didn’t get my part, and so I’m going to tell you that Blake is a huge liar.”

Now that I’m not looking at my tablet, Blake’s face takes up a mere quarter of my watch face. Tiny Blake raises his eyebrows.

“I broke up with him before I was arrested,” I say. “I broke up with him because I didn’t want to fall in love with him. And before anyone tells me how stupid that is, I want to point out that his family broadcasts everything about them to their hundred and six million viewers. That is really screwed up, if you think about it.”

“Wait just one minute,” Adam says, sounding wounded. “That’s completely unfair. According to internal statistics, we’re up to a hundred and eleven million viewers right now.”

“Oh,” I say on a shaky laugh. “Well. That makes everything better.”

“Tina,” Adam says, “has a little sarcasm problem. She fits in. We’re trying to keep her.”

“Also,” Blake says, “we don’t broadcast everything on the internet. That’s a myth. I think we may have two or three secrets left. We’re holding those for a later launch.”

I can’t help but smile. “Still screwed up.”

Adam smiles. “Welcome to the family, Tina. We may be a little off kilter, but we have the best gadgets.”

“A little premature, Dad,” Blake says. “We’re still broken up.”

I take a deep breath. “Maybe we should talk about that,” I say, “when there’s a hundred and eleven million and three fewer people around, give or take.”

Blake smiles at me. The video is tiny. The sound isn’t great. But that smile…it comes across, even with all those millions of other people watching along. It fills me up.

“This video interface sucks,” I say. “You’re this small. Do not buy the Vortex, people, not unless you want one of the more romantic moments in your life to be compressed to the size of a sugar cube.”