Page 21 of Impossible Bachelor (Bachelor Tower 2)
“Right.” Ben takes the drive and flips open his laptop. I miss it in my hand already. I know it’s silly, but I didn’t want to let it go. “The programming is very basic now. I’ll jazz up the interface if you like it.”
“List to Leisure,” I repeat, trying to sort out exactly what this might entail.
“You schedule your downtime. The program tracks your daily schedule and lets you know when the most impactful moments of rest or leisure should be inserted. You can choose from activities it suggests or plug in your own. If meditation isn’t your thing, you could put zip lining in. Coloring. A quick mindless video game. There are loads of things in there to do.”
“And then what?”
“There’s a goal metric and reward system. The more often you work in self-care and downtime the more points you earn. You can even compete with friends. It turns the breaks you should be taking into a task you can accomplish. And remember this doesn’t take away from your daily schedule, it works around it.”
“And what do I get if I win?” I give a sexy smile as though he has the only reward I want.
“You get to cross it off the list. It becomes a task.” He shows me the screen with the exaggerated slashing motion needed to remove something from the list. “It sounds counterintuitive to schedule fun, rest, or downtime. But you get your fix when you finish a task. When you accomplish something you feel amazing. These become things to tackle, and in doing so you also reap the benefits of the task itself.”
“That’s . . .” I hesitate as I think it over. “That’s really brilliant, Ben. I know about a hundred businesspeople who could use an app like this.” An idea comes to me. “Have you considered partnering with businesses for incentives from them? People who choose massages as a way to relax could earn points toward a free one from a participating vendor.”
“I love it,” he says and kisses me again. “Genius. I usually sell off the app before it gets to that stage, but I like where you’d take it.”
My phone starts to beep as it always does this time of morning. Meeting reminders, text messages from Tabby reminding me of various commitments. Ben reluctantly steps back. I’m glad because I was about to turn off my phone and crawl back into bed with him.
Being with him feels better than anything at work. I shake that feeling off.
He leans a hip against the kitchen counter. “I’ll meet you by your office after your last meeting.”
I pocket the USB. “Thank you, Ben. I love your gift.” The words come out awkwardly. Too close to I love you. Too intimate for my normal guarded stance.
“Good.” He hands me a travel mug, and I pour coffee into it. “Don’t feel like you need to get me something in return. I mean I do love Lamborghinis, exotic vacations, and backstage passes to concerts. But really, no pressure.”
We laugh as I close the door behind me and lose myself in the haze of infatuation. It’s quiet in this bubble. It’s peaceful, filled with hope and images of a future I never pictured for myself.
The bubble doesn’t just pop, it explodes as I round the corner and see him. Luther Green is huddled with a group of other Bachelor Tower tenants grumbling in hushed tones. This is the guy who’s screwing with Dalton at work. I’m almost positive of it. Previously Dalton had threatened him into backing off, but this guy is festering. He’s looking for leverage. Lately whenever I hear a rumor, it leads back to this steaming pile of garbage.
“You get lost?” he asks, making note that I’m on the wrong floor. He doesn’t realize how prepared I am for a man like him.
“There were reports of a foul smell in the building. I thought I’d do my neighborly duty and check it out. I’ll be able to let everyone know I found the source.” A few men snicker because they can’t help themselves.
“You don’t seem to be using your apartment much these days.” A few of the guys jab elbows at each other as though they’d just scored a point.
“The same could be said for you and your brain.”
“I can’t figure out if you’re cocky or just stupid.” He eyes me with a venomous look, and I let out a breathy laugh.
“See, and it only took me a second to figure out which one you are.”
I walk away before he can respond, but I can hear him swearing as the elevator doors close behind me.
The hair on the back of my neck is standing up. I can wait for him to come for me, or I can take him down before then. To survive, it’s better to be first and fierce.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ben
The city is alive as people pour out of their offices and spill into cabs or move in tiny herds down the sidewalk. It’s moments like this I’m grateful for the flexibility my career affords me. I can think, design, create, almost anywhere. Men in their too tight neckties and women in their uncomfortable shoes walk by looking defeated. That’s not for me.
But what’s coming my way, that is all for me.
“Were you waiting long?” Kylie asks as she casually slips her arm in mine.
“No, but if I was you’re worth it.”
She smiles and brushes her lips over mine. “You give even a bad day a good ending.”
“Tough day?”
“No more than usual. Just some things I’m working through.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head. “Not yet.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving,” she says with a smile as the prospect of food excites her. “I did take a couple small breaks thanks to your gift.”
“Really?”
“It was brilliant. The suggestions were good. Easy to do and there was some serious instant gratification of crossing stuff off that list. The idea is solid.”
“You’ll give me some feedback while I continue to develop it?”
“Sure. I was thinking you could add a feature that makes i
t wearable. Not a watch. Those are overdone. But if it can measure biometrics too, people will love that. Or have it build off what a phone can already do. I know programs like that already exist, but with the right AI software, yours could stand out.”
Kylie gets it. It’s not about intelligence. I’ve been out with very smart women before. But Kylie speaks my language. We move in tandem through conversations, neither of us falling behind or jumping ahead. The ideas flow. We debate. We challenge. Kylie is the first women I’ve been with who makes me feel like more of myself. A Ben 2.0.
“That’s a great idea.” I’m just about to launch into a few other enhancements I’ve been kicking around when a loud voice interrupts.
“Kylie, I’m on my way to your office.” A woman in a gray power suit and a tight bun that looks like it’s yanking at her face cuts me off.
“Mom?”
“We need to talk. What’s this business about you arguing with the other tenants at the Tower?”
“What are you doing here, Mom?”
“Didn’t I just make that clear? I’m asking you a question.”
“You could have called.”
“Who is this?” She takes notice of me and dissects my appearance with the expression of someone who has just noticed a stray dog lingering around.
“I’m Ben,” I say.
“He’s my neighbor.”
Her mother’s nose wrinkles. “Kylie, you know better than to—”
“Can we do this later please?” Kylie asks, and I see a very new look of unease on her face. Something clearly reserved for exchanges with her mother.
“I don’t have time later.” Her mother purses her lips and eyes us again.
“Mother, I will call you tonight. We’re on our way to dinner.”
“Would you like to join us?” I can imagine few people I’d have less fun dining with, but if this is Kylie’s mother I’m curious.
“It’s six p.m.,” she says, looking at us like we’ve just broken out of prison. “You’re going back to the office after, aren’t you?”
“No. I’m done for the day.” Kylie fidgets with her purse and draws in a deep breath.
