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Money.
Games are fun. Games might fill my soul, but they don’t fill the bank account.
We made a promise years ago. We promised we would be friends forever and that we would make it all the way to Park Avenue. I’m not going to get there writing gaming apps, no matter how much I love them.
“Ani wants to find a project that will let her work with someone she likes.” Harper sips her mimosa. “She’s got terrible bosses.”
“They’re not all bad,” Anika counters. “I’ve liked some of them. I think the boss I have right now is great. That’s why I don’t want to move.”
This feels better. I greatly prefer talking about my friends’ shitty existences rather than my own. “What did they do now?”
Anika started out as a production assistant. It’s pretty much another term for being everyone’s bitch. She’s worked her way up to one rung below running her own shows. She keeps bringing her ideas to the table, but so far she hasn’t gotten one through.
It’s a little like everything in the world. She needs money to back her dreams.
Only Harper had been given a whole company, and I’m so glad it seems to be her dream. There’s nothing my bestie loves more than taking a rundown piece of property and turning it into a gem.
Sometimes I wish she did the same for people. But then she tries and I get scared, so maybe she should stick to old brownstones.
“They want her to work as a PA on a reality show,” Harper explains. “It’s a huge step down.”
“Not exactly,” Anika hedges.
My cell buzzes, alerting me that I’m getting a text. I pray it isn’t CeCe realizing she made a terrible mistake when she invited me. Anika is explaining her latest job and I glance down at my screen.
I don’t recognize the number.
Hi, Ms. Jensen. My name is Heath Marino, and a mutual friend gave me your number. I was hoping to get some help with a piece of code I’m struggling with. I will be happy to pay for your expertise. If you’re interested and have the time, please ring me back at this number.
I’ve never heard of this dude, and he seems way too polite to work in my world. Also, he didn’t use a flurry of emoticons and acronyms only the hardest core of technophiles can decipher. I think about it because now the name does ring a very distant bell, but I can’t pin it down. Who is the mutual friend? Who has my number? I’d given up my work phone that I’d had for so long, and only a couple of people have the new one. The list of suspects is short, and they’re mostly here.
I look between the only two friends I have. “Heath Marino?”
I can tell immediately who has set me up with some dude who doesn’t know this is a setup. Or maybe he does, and that’s way worse. Anika’s expression is one of pure curiosity while Harper has gone stone-cold poker face on me.
After a moment she shrugs, obviously giving up. “His cousin works on one of my crews. He fixed a bug in my estimation software, and now he’s kind of my go-to guy when any of the tech goes down. He’s such a nice guy, and he’s working on this app.”
I manage to not groan. Everyone is working on an app in my world. Every single person I meet. If they aren’t actively working on an app, they have the idea for one, and hey, wouldn’t I like to work with them on it? But I know this isn’t really about work. “So you thought it would be cool to shove me into his arms or something?”
Harper sets down her fork. “He’s a nice guy, and he could use some help. If you don’t want to help him, I’ll let him know to leave you alone. See, I’m doing this thing where we’re all friends and sometimes we help each other out.”
There’s another scenario I haven’t considered. “If you like him, I’ll do it. I’m sorry. I don’t mind helping. I just don’t want to meet some dude who thinks I’m desperate and looking.”
Harper’s high ponytail shakes. “No, I’m not interested in him like that.” Anika sends her a look and they spend a couple of seconds communicating in a silent language of eyebrow raises and pursing lips. Finally, Harper sighs. “Fine. I did think you might like him, but he doesn’t know that.”
“He’s super cute,” Anika says with a nod. “I didn’t know about the setup thing or I would have warned you, but I have met Heath. He’s kind of adorable.”
I’m back to wanting to spontaneously combust so I can avoid all of this. “No.”
“You don’t have to date him.” Harper obviously gives up on me.
I’m cool with that. It’s not that I want my friends to wash their hands of me. To the contrary. I need them now more than ever. But I can’t even think about becoming involved with anything but my own looking-real-sad future.
