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“DoIreallyhaveto?” I sighed.
Mia nodded emphatically, her eyes bright. She toyed with the hem line of her dress, her eyes intent on me.
“I was so out of it when you first did it.” She pouted. “I could barely believe it even happened.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks as it had far too often in the last few days. I couldn’t figure out what had changed or when, but being around Mia was suddenly too much and not enough all at once.
“You were so shaken up,” I said defensively, shrugging my jacket on and grabbing my phone. “And I was two seconds away from decking that asshole square in his fucking face.”
“The whole situation was totally my fault, though,” she pointed out, packing her laptop and averting her gaze. “He had every right to be angry.”
“He hadno rightto talk to you like that.” I seethed, my anger slipping out of my control. “It was anaccident, and he should have been more respectful.”
Mia was quiet and I refused to look at her, knowing what it might do to me.
“Anyway,” I said, clearing my throat of the irritation that still singed the back of my tongue. “Who are we seeing first?”
As easy as that, Mia slipped into her role as my executive assistant, allowing my thoughts to wander off elsewhere. My mind conjured up unhelpful thoughts as usual. Specifically, thoughts of Mia a few nights ago, when I’d given in to the jarring need to kiss her.
Touch her.
Our first order of business for the day was meeting with an indie game designer, someone Mia had somehow managed to find among the puffed up chests we’d already suffered through.
We drove to a small café near the hotel, and I was ridiculously grateful for the iced Americano that Mia ordered for me while I got our table. It helped me focus on the meetings ahead of us instead of the sway of her hips.
“So, who are we meeting first?” I asked, just to keep myself from staring too long at the dip between her collar bones.
“She should be here soon, actually,” Mia answered, craning her neck to look back at the entrance to the café.
I perked up in interest. “She?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to spoil too much,” Mia insisted. “And why aren’t you speaking Portuguese?”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not at all.” She smirked. “Oh! There she is!”
Mia waved an enthusiastic hand at the young woman who had just walked through the door. Mia hadn’t been kidding when she said she was young. The kid ducked her head as soon as she spotted Mia waving and hurried over, her hands twisting the strap of her shoulder bag.
“Madalena, right?” Mia asked in Portuguese.
Madalena nodded, a small smile lifting her lips. Mia offered her the only other seat at the table and Madalena sat down, tugging her bag into her lap.
“Madalena, do you speak any English?” Mia asked, her words slow enough for me to understand, and I knew she’d done it for my benefit.
Madalena answered in English, her voice small and wracked with nerves. “A little,” she answered, her gaze flicking between Mia and me.
“That’s okay,” Mia answered, switching back to English so easily, it made me a little jealous. “This is Reid Voss, the owner of-”
“I know who you are,” Madalena said, her eyes going wide, and she glanced back at Mia. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! I’ve always heard about DawnStar. I almost didn’t come today; I thought it was a trick.”
“I’m glad you came today,” I told her, and her grin widened, her cheeks flushing dark. “So, tell me about yourself.”
As it turned out, Mia was right about not wanting to spoil Madalena’s story for me.
At only nineteen, she’d managed to develop three separate games on Unity, one of the most popular game creation apps in the world.
But what had amazed me was that she’d done so at various PC cafés in a city near her home. Without access to her own computer at home, or WiFi, she’d researched using computers at libraries and found herself planning out her first game at the age of sixteen.
