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“I will say one thing,” she said. “If I had two men upstairs in my bed right now? I wouldn’t be down here talking to my dumb sister.”
I hugged her goodnight, then returned to my men. They were still asleep, and they stirred as I crawled back between them. Jude rolled over, so I buried my face in his blond hair and spooned him. Then I felt Owen curling up against my body from behind, making me the meat in a billionaire sandwich.
Why can’t we just keep doing this?I wondered as I fell asleep.
60
Amber
The three of us got brunch the next morning at a little diner in San Mateo. I sensed a little bit of awkwardness between the two men now that we were facing the light of day, but they eased the tension with some light-hearted jokes and comments about who was the better lover. I ate my French toast and watched their playful bickering with a huge smile on my face.
We walked into the office together, not caring if people saw us. If I arrived with one of them, maybe people would whisper. But showing up with both? Nobody would suspect the truth of what had happened last night. They would assume we had a breakfast meeting together.
Furio was already there, chatting with Melinda at the front desk. He was the one person whowouldraise an eyebrow at the three of us arriving together, since he knew I was involved with Jude and Owen. But if he felt any sort of concern, it did not show on his hawkish face.
“There are my three favorite San Franciscans!” he said cheerfully. “For two of you, I have a surprise this morning.”
Owen shook his hand, grinning smugly after last night’s fun. “What kind of surprise?”
“A visitor. Aspecialvisitor. I cannot say more until…”
They looked at me, and I realized that they were waiting for me to leave. Sometimes it was easy to forget that they were in charge, and I was merely an employee. I said my goodbyes, then went to the break room to get an energy drink.
Melinda was right behind me, grabbing a teabag and preparing a cup of water. “What do you think it is?” I asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said, staring into her mug worriedly.
“Maybe it’s one of those dumb celebrity visits,” I suggested. “Like when Amazon hired Tom Brady to come in and give everyone a motivational speech.”
“Maybe,” Melinda said, but if anything her concerned expression deepened.
Just then, out in the entrance, a man walked through the front door and greeted Furio. He had gray hair despite his young face, and dark, bushy eyebrows. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him as I watched him from a distance.
Nancy came running into the kitchen like her heels were on fire. “Are you two seeing this?”
The man was now shaking hands with Owen, then Jude. Both of them looked shell-shocked.
“Am I supposed to recognize him?” I asked.
Nancy made a distressed noise. “Didn’t you go to Stanford? You should know him!”
“My sister goes to Stanford,” I said. “I went to Berkeley. Why, is he a professor?”
Melinda returned with her tea, then nearly dropped the mug on the floor. “That’s Larry Page. One of the founders of Google!”
Suddenly the round face came into sharper focus. I recognized him from the cover of the tech magazines I had read growing up. He’d had graying hair back then, too.
“Oh. My. God.”
“Why is he here?” Nancy demanded. “What is happening?”
By the time we left the kitchen, the four men—Furio, Owen, Jude, and Larry Page—were walking across the office and into a conference room on the far wall. They left a trail of awestruck employees in their path, and clusters of people quickly put their heads together to point and confirm that the man really was who they thought.
From within the conference room, Jude met my gaze and gave me a worried look. Then the door closed.
As if someone had unfrozen a movie, the office suddenly became a buzz of excitement. On the short walk to the stairs, I was intercepted by no fewer than ten employees who wanted to know why Larry Page was here, and what was happening. I don’t remember what I said to any of them; I was still in a daze myself.
Does Google want to work with ACS?
