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I blinkedmy eyes and stared at the ceiling until the world blurred into focus. My brain pounded against my skull like it was swelling and had run out of room. With a groan, I clawed my way to standing and reached for the dregs of a half-full hydropod on the nightstand.

The memories of last night rushed back. I saw Mason flirting with Tasha the same way he did with me. I heard Nicole’s voice and recalled their insane family’s plan for the competition.

I groaned and dragged my sorry ass into the shower as I tried to focus past the point where I excused myself from the party, head fuzzy from all the wine, and had stumbled from the room.

But there was nothing once I had reached the threshold. Even the robot staff band stopped playing music when I exited in my memory. My heart clenched as I crushed my nearly depleted shampoo bar. It wasn’t like me to have blackouts. Then again, I didn’t usually drink so much, and I had no idea how many times my wine glass had been refilled last night.

My thoughts inevitably turned to Mason and the feelings he’d reignited yesterday. It was so easy to talk to him, so easy to trust him. I hurled my natural loofa across the shower like a javelin and watched it bounce against the tile wall. I should have known better than to trust a man. They were all cheating bastards, just like my own father.

I sniffled as I wrapped a towel around my hair, turban style. I supposed Mason never cheated. One couldn’t cheat on someone they were never together with in the first place.

Now I was stuck with a job I had to get to, working for the very people I swore I’d never work for. What the hell had I been thinking? I pulled on a sundress and some sandals, then drew my partially wet hair up in a ponytail. It was time to get to work. Maybe throwing myself into the AI issues would help keep my mind off hot men I needed to stay away from.

I grabbed a hydropod from the overstocked fridge and turned to go, when I spotted my mother’s letter on the counter, a rip almost half-way down the center. Rage exploded through me, and I screamed, wiping everything off the counter. It wasn’t enough to satisfy my sudden wrath, so I moved to the table, and then the bedroom, knocking chairs to the ground and pounding on walls. Even considering the circumstances, the all-consuming rage was over the top and completely out of character for me, but knowing that couldn’t quell it.

“May I help you with something, Miss Meadows?” Candice’s voice asked from the speakers throughout my quarters.

I froze, lungs pumping oxygen in and out. I must’ve hit the damn button with something I’d thrown.

“I want to go home.” My voice sounded strained, foreign.

“I’m afraid I cannot help with that, Miss Meadows. Perhaps I can arrange a massage for you.”

“No thanks,” I muttered, sliding down the wall and burying my face in my hands.

“Perhaps breakfast? We now offer room service. Based on your buffet choices last night, we recommend the continental breakfast.”

“No. Thank. You.” I punched the words out, but the person I was really angry with was myself for allowing the Bennets and their wealth to get to me on any level.

“What can I help you with today, Miss Meadows?” the computer asked.

I pulled my hands slowly down my face. Another glitch? I hadn’t touched the button again.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“7:24 a.m.”

Time to get to work.

* * *

“Good morning,” Alyssa said the second the elevator doors opened on the lower deck, which I now magically had access to via my trusty wristband.

I stared around at the metal gratings and massive computer terminals ringed by a solid window of ocean, feeling like I was in a B movie, Attack of the Fifty-Foot Squid with my luck.

“Hi,” I managed without sounding too rude.

She greeted me in an official-looking lab coat, her hair up in a tight twist, and cat-eye glasses balanced on her nose. But all I saw was the love in her eyes as she danced with my father last night, and I was surprised to find myself being more hurt than angry.

“I’m so glad we are going to get this chance to work together, Sam. It’s time we put the past where it belongs.”

I stared at the hand she placed on my shoulder and stiffened in response. It felt automatic, and a trickle of guilt washed over me.

“I’m eager to get to work,” I said, too confused to sort through the myriad of emotions swirling through me.

Alyssa nodded, removed her hand, and pulled in a deep breath. “Then let’s get you a quick tour and get started.”