Page 57 of Black Reign

Here we go.

Men divide into categories when I tell them what I do.

Some become intimidated.

Some become competitive.

Some immediately ask me to fix their laptop.

Marc chooses competitive.

“I've always been good with technology.”

I take a slow breath.

“Have you?”

“Very. I built my own gaming PC at university.”

There is no reason this should make me want to cry.

None.

It's perfectly respectable.

Millions of intelligent men build computers.

Some of them are undoubtedly fascinating.

Marc scratches beneath his sweater again. “Sorry— I used a new deodorant and I’m having an allergic reaction…”

I look toward my bag.

Ghost once built an encrypted relay architecture because I called his first version inelegant.

He spent two nights rewriting it.

Then sent me the result with one message.

GHOST: Better?

I found three weaknesses.

He fixed them before breakfast.

That's my problem.

Ghost ruined men for me without ever touching me.

I look back at Marc.

Handsome.

Successful.

Nice enough.

Impossible.