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“Did you participate in said scene?” asked Fort.
“Of course I did.”
“Wow. And there she was at the airport the next morning.”
“There she was at the airport, yes.”
Fort slapped me on the back. “Only you, Dev. What are the chances? What are the fucking chances?”
I thought of my earlier conversation with Ella.Chance is bullshit. Astrophysicists deal in infinite possibilities.“She’s great,” I said, summing up all the anxious horniness I felt in a stupid, generic sentence. “We have some things in common.”
“And she’s your type,” said Fort. “Physically.”
“My type?” I snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far. She’s cute and blonde, yeah, but we don’t have much of an intellectual connection. She’s off in space most of the time. God knows what’s going on behind those big black glasses.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t think about work all the time,” he said, “especially if she’s participating in group BDSM scenes at Via Sofferenza.”
I shook my head. “Stop trying to fix us up. She insists she’s not the falling-in-love type, and what would an archgenius want with me? Hell, I’m the anti-genius.”
Fort pulled a disapproving frown. “You aren’t what you came from, Dev.”
Fort was one of the few people I’d confided in about my squalid childhood, my miserable life before my mom met my stepdad. Even Fort didn’t realize how squalid it had been. I hoped he never would.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I don’t know many anti-geniuses who are decorated war veterans.”
I waved a hand. “Any pimply teenager with gaming skills can operate a military jet.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” He held up his hands in a gesture of capitulation. “But whatever. I’m not going to play therapist, you fucked-up asshole. I agree you and the archgenius don’t have a future, but don’t act like you’re not smart enough to join her games.”
“Oh, I’m going to join her fucking games.” I glanced over Fort’s shoulder, watching Juliet return. “If I’m stuck here waiting on a twice-weekly direct flight to New York, she’s going to entertain me.”
“Good thing she’s kinky as hell.”
“Who’s kinky as hell?” asked Juliet, who’d overheard the last of our conversation. She resumed her place beside Fort. “Your Dr. Ella? I figured.”
“How did you figure?” Fort asked.
“Science people, you know? Mystery and experimentation. Plus, Devin told her yesterday on the flight to be good girl, and her head didn’t explode or anything, so…”
“Oh, I didn’t hear that.”
A voice crackled over the intercom, announcing the start of boarding for our flight. They both turned to look at me.
“Well, have fun,” said Fort. “And give Ella our best wishes. Hope you make it back to New York within the next month or so.”
“I have a job,” I said, rolling my eyes. “We’ll be on the next plane.” I wouldn’t have minded tormenting Ella for the next month here in this Azorean paradise, but I had a life to get back to in New York. And other submissives. I wasn’t one to fall in love after sex either.
I also wasn’t one to re-arrange my schedule and life for a flight-phobic science genius, but for some reason, I was doing just that.
Chapter Nine: Ella
Isat atthe table near the open balcony door, trying to compose an email.
Dr. Mann, I wrote, because I refused to call him Leo in official correspondence. We were ex-lovers, but we weren’t friends.
Thank you for arranging the apartment residence near the NSF Institute. I’ve taken a look online and I’m sure it will be satisfactory while I work with the ACE Consortium. However, I won’t be arriving today as planned. There was a problem with our flight, and I’m currently marooned on the island of São Miguel, in the Azores. Until I line up alternative transportation, I’ll be reviewing the journals you sent from Denison, Tingle, Simpson et. al.
I’m not certain at the moment when I’ll arrive in New York.
