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Secondly, I’m one of the only people who runs their own division alone in Cobalt Inc.
Connor said he’d officially title my division when I’ve presented my prototype. Right now, I’m keeping everything a secret—even the concept. Less pressure that way, and Connor doesn’t seem to care about it.
The guys in the company—they care.
It’s favoritism. Nepotism. All wrapped in one fugly looking package.
To Keith, I shrug. “I mean, them calling you my bitch is kind of a lame insult, man. Aren’t we all Connor Cobalt’s bitches at this point?”
Keith shakes his head and then slowly stops, rethinking. “Yeah, but you’re not Connor Cobalt. You’re what…twenty-three?”
“Twenty-one,” I correct, probably not helping my case. “And just tell those guys to fuck off. You’re making almost a hundred dollars a day off me because I’m too lazy to move my ass.”
Connor doesn’t do free internships, but Keith can’t be earning what his senior coworkers take home.
“Exactly,” Keith says. “You’re lazy. You’re young. You’re you. I can’t be seen with you, Abbey.” He motions between us. “This partnership is over.”
I roll my eyes as he walks off. There goes that one.
Focusing back on my computer, I put my headphones on and try to fix a bug in the code. I’m building the foundation of the game before I even work in the mechanics of design and more complex gameplay. It’s harder not having a team of programmers, but I prefer to do it alone. At least, right now at this stage, I don’t need a bunch of people in my space.
Another body arrives near my cubicle, and without even turning my head, I recognize the poised I own this world posture and expensive Cartier wristwatch from my peripheral.
Connor Cobalt is gracing me with his presence, which doesn’t happen every day. He gives me room to breathe and work and so far I’ve appreciated that.
I keep my eyes on the computer, some strands of hair falling in my face, but I keep typing. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll just vanish.
“Garrison,” Connor says. I can hear his calm, assertive tone even over my noise-cancelling headphones.
I don’t blink, my focus zoned in on the computer.
He waves a hand in front of the screen. Finally, I glance up at him, still typing like I’m supremely busy. Then I peek at his side.
Lily Calloway is here. And she looks about as out-of-place at Cobalt Inc. as I do. A casual long-sleeve black shirt and overcoat hangs baggie on her gangly frame. I don’t even think she’s wearing actual pants—just leggings.
There’s only a handful of reasons she could be here, and I’m going to go with the most obvious. It’s January 3rd, and everyone in this building knows what that means. It’s Connor Cobalt’s 30th birthday, and if you want to be on Connor’s good side, you act like today is just any other ordinary day.
No fanfare. No wishing your boss happy birthday. Definitely no cake or gifts.
Apparently, Connor isn’t that hyped on celebrating his age, but I’m sure his wife and sisters-in-law are planning something for him.
And all of this has absolutely nothing to do with me.
I return my gaze to Connor and click a button on my keyboard, turning off my music. “What do you want?” I don’t know why, but those words come out a lot harsher than I intend. My muscles twitch.
“You’re done for the day,” Connor says, ignoring my tone. “I need you to come with us.”
What?
My fingers still move over my keyboard, finishing up some last lines of code that I needed to plug in. I swing my head to Lily, trusting her more. “Is this work related?”
“Umm…” She mumbles and then shrugs.
Jesus. She’s no help. And I bet she’s in on this plan to kidnap me from my work.
“Will you come with us if it isn’t?” Connor asks.
“No.” I don’t even hesitate. It’s just the way it is. They’re not my friends, and I can pretend all day long that they give a shit about me. But they don’t. They care about Willow, and I’m an extension of her. Willow and I aren’t in a great place right now, and the probability of us not working out has skyrocketed.
I’m trying to avoid a situation where I form these bonds with people and then have them all ripped away. I’ve been through the loss of friends before—and it’s fucking painful. And I didn’t even like those assholes.
It’d be infinitely worse when you actually enjoy hanging out with your friends. And I like Lily. I like Lo. I had fun at the Fright Night during Halloween. Having a good time with them scares the shit out of me. Because it’s just another thing I could lose.
So…no. Whatever they’re up to, it’s a big capital Fuck No from me.
Connor doesn’t miss a beat. “Then it’s work related,” he says. “Grab your things.”
