Hardwired (The Hardwired Series 1)(20)

A car horn broke my thoughts. Blake sat in the driver’s seat of a sleek black sports car waiting at the curb. I approached and was momentarily confused by the lack of door handles until one glided out of its hidden pocket in the passenger door. Strange. I got in, instantly mesmerized by the enormous LCD screen situated between the driver and passenger seats.

“What the hell is this?” I asked, instantly overwhelmed by all the gadgets and gizmos.

“It’s a Tesla.”

“Okay.” I stared out to the road ahead, waiting for the car to move.

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing his thumb against my cheek.

He looked fresh and cute, but his smile soon faded. My throat tightened as if I could cry again. I swallowed against the sensation, my body stiffening in an act of self-defense.

“I’m fine, seriously.” I turned my face away and wiped away any errant mascara that might clue him in to my recent meltdown. I didn’t know if I could bear being any more vulnerable to this man than I already was and still maintain a shred of professional integrity. “What do you want?” I asked.

“Are you hungry?”

“Sure.” I wasn’t, but I wanted to be anywhere but here. I let Blake take us away in what I now recalled was an extremely expensive high-tech car whose stock had just skyrocketed.

“How much Tesla stock do you own?”

“I got in on the second round of funding, so quite a bit.”

“Of course you did,” I mumbled.

Blake made his way into the city in record time and with little regard for pedestrians and traffic laws, but somehow I still felt safe and relieved to have the campus in the rearview. We rode the rest of the way in silence until Blake pulled into a reserved parking space across from the clock tower.





* * *

The Black Rose was an Irish pub in the heart of Boston, a few steps away from the famous Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market. Inside, a dark wood bar lined one end of the restaurant and coats of arms from the motherland covered the walls. Blake and I settled into a quiet corner of the restaurant where we could watch the people outside going about their day, including tourists, bankers, and men driving horse-drawn carriages.

The cute young waitress was cheery and asked for our order with an Irish lilt that made me think of my favorite professor who was also leaving in a few short weeks.

“Two Irish breakfasts and two Guinnesses,” Blake said, handing her our menus and promptly returning his attention back to me.

“Do you always order for other people?”

“I didn’t want you to battle with yourself over ordering a pint so early in the day.”

He leaned in, showcasing his biceps that were peeking out of the sleeves his T-shirt that featured the Initech logo from Office Space. He had no business looking so unprofessional on a workday.

“Tell me why you were crying.”

I shook my head, emotionally drained and unprepared to be with Blake at this moment in time. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

I started to get up, but Blake took my hand.

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

I paused, wanting desperately to be falling apart somewhere where Blake wasn’t in the audience.

“Stay,” he said.

My anger melted away. I sat back down, letting my hand stay in his. His touch had a calming effect that I both resented and cherished.

“Why did you want to see me, Blake?”

“Well, for one, you didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye. Do you always run off like that?”


“I didn’t think you’d care,” I said, embarrassed about the whole affair, even though I’d thought of almost nothing else since I left his suite two days ago. “Anyway, I had an early flight home.”

“Have you heard from Max?”

I took a deep breath, relieved to be talking business again. “Yes, we’re meeting next week.”

“How’s the housing hunt going?”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Now that Alli is officially moving to New York, I suppose it just got simpler.”

“That doesn’t sound like good news.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to start dressing myself again, which will be tough,” I joked.

I wasn’t lying, but obviously her fashion sense wouldn’t be the only thing I’d miss. Alli was my best friend, my confidante, my wing-woman. I still couldn’t believe my roomy wouldn’t be my roomy anymore. We’d only be an hour’s flight away, but I held onto an irrational fear that our lives would begin moving in different directions that would eventually take their toll on the friendship we’d worked so hard to build. Only time would tell.

“I have a good broker.” Blake fished a business card out of his wallet and handed it to me. Fiona Landon, Licensed Real Estate Broker.

“If she’s related to you, I doubt she’d have anything in my price range.”

“She’s my little sister, and you never know. She’s known for digging up good finds. Just tell her I sent you.”

I sighed. “I told you about my situation to make conversation. It wasn’t a cry for help. I’m perfectly capable of figuring this out on my own.”

“I know you are,” he said quietly, rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles.

I pulled away from his grasp. Physical contact with Blake seriously affected my decision-making.