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I still wasn’t going to seek him out to give it, though.
The screen flashed at me that I’d typed in the wrong password, so I tried again and cracked my fingers while the laptop loaded. It was getting a little on the old side and was due a refresh, and I honestly just had so much shit saved on there that I couldn’t be bothered to sort through that it was starting to affect performance.
I also really hated computer shopping.
Contrary to what the idiots in those computer stores thought, I was capable of choosing my own computer. I just needed it to run Word.
AndThe Sims.
I paused.
And just that like, my finger slid over to the game client, and I opened TheSimsinstead of my word processor.
Just a public service announcement: playingThe Simsdid not get one’s book written.
It was an excellent source of stress relief though, and I was stressed, so I was going to do what all good Sims players did.
I was going to make a sim version of Max and trap him in the pool until the Grim Reaper paid a visit.
Slightly sadistic? Maybe. But it was just a game, and really nothing compared to some of the shit I’d Googled in the past.
Trust me on that.
I was probably on a watch list somewhere.
I went into the create mode and got to work making a sim that resembled him. They even had his exact haircut, which brought me a little bit of joy. I fiddled and toyed with all the tools for the next forty-five minutes until I had a sim that was somewhat recognisable as the good duke.
Then I got to work.
I chose an empty lot and got building. I really didn’t need much, but I did want a backup plan if the pool didn’t work, so I made a two-by-two room, then another that was twice as large and just had a cheap cooker in.
The one that always set on fire.
Burn, bitch, burn.
All right.
More than slightly sadistic, but we all had a vice.
I was just about to instruct my sim of Max to get into the pool when there were four loud knocks at the door.
Sigh.
I paused the game and got up, leaving the laptop on the coffee table. Maybe I didn’t need to leave Windermere—maybe I just needed to find somewhere quieter to stay.
“Hello,” I said, opening the door. “I—oh, it’s you.”
Max’s lips twitched to one side. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
I went to close the door, but he shoved one foot between it and the frame and peered through the remaining gap.
“Ellie, please. Can we talk?”
“You can talk. I have nothing to say to you, and you can do that from the other side of the door, so if you’ll excuse your foot… I have work to be doing.”Or Sims to be killing. Whatever.
“I read your book.”
I froze, then slowly tilted my head to one side. “Did you break in here again?”
