Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He holds my hand as we walk through the parking lot and opens the car door for me. He’s a gentleman, through and through. Polite, courteous, and sweet. When he slides behind the steering wheel, his artificially intelligent car adjusts to him, and the computer greets him. I catch him smiling. This guy is a softy.
“I’m going to let Rizzo drive us to the nearest coffee shop.”
“Okay?” I look at him questioningly. He tells Rizzo where he wants to go and then puts his car in drive. I should probably panic at the sight of seeing the steering wheel turn without his guidance, but I don’t. He’s still behind the wheel and I suppose somewhat in control. Yet, he’s looking at me.
“I’m not drunk or anything,” he tells me and now I understand. “But I do question whether we left too early.”
“I get it.”
“So, we’re going to go get some coffee.”
“Sounds like the perfect ending to a perfect night.”
My words take him by surprise. “This was a perfect night for you?”
“Yes.”
“Was it the food?”
I shake my head slightly and wet my lips, in hopes he’ll kiss me. “The company.”
A small smile spreads across his face. Alex tilts his head and leans forward. Kissing while your AI drives you someplace feels odd, and out of the norm, but I go with it. Unfortunately, Rizzo picks that moment to announce our arrival and now Alex has to focus on parking or whatever needs to be done.
The moment is over. Lost in the abyss of stupid technology and late-night coffee shops. Still, he holds my hand as we make our way into the shop. It’s self-seating and he leads us to a booth by the window. The street is quiet, and the view is spectacular.
“I can’t believe how beautiful the city looks from up here.”
“It’s gorgeous until you get downtown,” he says.
“Can I be honest about something?”
“Always.” Alex reaches for my hand. His thumb moves back and forth over the top of my hand. My fingertips are cold—well they were, until he warmed them with his soft grip.
“I’m shocked at the way downtown is. I expected better,” I tell him. “I know NYC isn’t the best, but Portland just seems worse. I tried to explore the downtown area and felt unsafe.”
“It’s all politics, and the mayor is unwilling or unable to do anything about crime, drugs, and homelessness. It’s sad because I, too, expect more. I know the owner of the Pioneers donates a ton of money to revitalization efforts, but every year, the funds are commingled or there’s some emergency that has to be dealt with first. It’s infuriating.”
“I want to love it here, but I don’t know.”
“Are you from New York?”
Nodding, I add, “Upstate. A very small town with absolutely nothing around it.”
“Did you always want to work in publishing?”
“I did. Growing up in a small town, you either played sports or you were the ‘nerd’ of the school. I was the nerd. My hand-eye coordination isn’t great, so I studied a lot, and when I wasn’t studying, I read.” I shrug. “The progression into publishing seemed like the right path for me.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Rochester Institute of Technology. I have a BS in English, with a minor in creative writing and immersions in digital literature, and comparative English.”
“So, you enjoy writing?” he laughs.
“Not at all. I can’t string two coherent sentences together, but I can help an author make their sentences stronger.”
The waitress comes over with two mugs and a carafe of coffee. “Can I get you guys anything?”
“May we see your dessert menu?” Alex asks her. She nods and turns away. “This is coffee,” he continues. “It’s okay. Not great. It might put hairs on your chest, but the pie here is decent. I come here a lot because no one ever seems to find me here.”
“And they find you at Starbucks?”
“Without a doubt.”
“I’m sorry, that must get annoying.”
Alex shrugs. “It’s not as bad as some of the guys. Like Noah, our quarterback. I don’t remember if I told you or not, but his dad is famous. He’s the lead singer for 4225 West, and to make matters worse, Noah’s married to Peyton, who’s dad is the drummer of the band. Plus, her brother has a band. They can’t go anywhere without the paparazzi following them or fans hounding them. I feel sorry for them, sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?”
Alex laughs and shrugs. He pours us each a cup of coffee and then pulls the ceramic box of sugars over, along with the cream.
“Okay, you know about me. Tell me about you. Where are you from and where did you go to school?”
He takes a sip of the coffee and shakes his head with a grimace. “That’s strong,” he says before taking another sip. “Okay, about me. I’m from Detroit. I was a rough and tumble kid, always in trouble. When I was twelve, my parents moved us to the ‘burbs because they thought I was going to join a gang.