Page 95 of Glitched Play

She stands in front of my desk holding her tablet against her chest, watching me with the same expression she uses when I’ve reorganized the office supply closet under the pretense of improving operational flow.

“You want me to find Maci an apartment,” she says.

“Yes.”

“Because she asked?”

“No.”

“Because she complained about the penthouse?”

“No.”

“Because she’s uncomfortable?”

“No.” Dara waits and she knows I dislike waiting when it’s weaponized. “It’s inappropriate,” I say.

“For whom?”

“Both of us.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Of course I believe it. I crossed the lines and kissed her.

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

The office is silent except for the servers humming behind the wall. I look toward them because machines are easier. Machines do not stand in front of my desk and interpret things I haven’t said.

Dara sighs softly. “Witt.”

I tap one finger against the edge of my desk.

Once.

Twice.

Then stop.

“I don’t trust myself to remain objective.”

The sentence lands harder than expected.

Dara’s expression changes. She’s not surprised. She understands and that is worse.

For several seconds, she doesn’t say anything. Then she nods once and makes a note on her tablet. “I’ll start looking.”

“Discreetly… and don’t tell her yet.”

Her stylus pen stops tapping.

I look up.

“The launch is this week. That’s all she needs to worry about,” I add.

Dara studies me for a beat too long. “Is that the reason?”