by Carol Caiton
There was always a flip side to consider. The system might all but guarantee perfect compatibility, but accepting the blue came with a price. It would eventually cost him his job. It would affect where he lived, the decisions he made, how his money was spent, even the food he ate. This was a pivotal, life-altering proposition.
A twinge of annoyance intruded on his thoughts. Regardless of the guarantee, he had no desire to alter his life. Everything was progressing as planned. The two amber folders he held were proof of that. Granted, his job might not be as challenging as it had been two years ago, but that would change with the current expansion project. Hundreds of new positions would open up within the next few weeks, nearly all of them to be filled by female applicants. The numbers would shift, providing a much needed boost to the system, and he could look forward to plenty of interesting hours while evaluating the impact of that influx on the various venues. Moreover, once that leveled off, chances were good that yet another expansion would be underway, then another.
Ten years from now he might welcome a blue icon and see it as the momentous opportunity he knew it should be. But right now, at this moment, he didn't appreciate having it forced on him. He didn't want to wonder what it would be like to share his life with a woman on a plane he couldn't imagine. He didn't want to wonder who she was, or look at every female on property and silently ask if she was the one so perfectly suited to him that their link warranted a status-2 blue. He didn't want to wonder what he'd be giving up by rejecting the icon. And for all his reluctance, he didn't want to go through life knowing he'd passed her folder on to another man.
The annoyance he felt was more than a twinge now. Pushing up out of his chair, he rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. He wanted to know who she was, this paragon of womanhood. He wanted to know what she looked like. He shouldn't have to accept her folder in order to see a photograph, at least. Yes, the linking system would have analyzed all her data. It would have measured her propensity toward adventure and the level of risk she was willing to take that would launch their connection into the stratosphere. Anyone with whom he was linked would meet, even surpass his expectations.
But this was an entirely different arena. Blue was a hell of a lot more than a sexual association that would end in three months. The sheer scope of it was too sweeping for a decision to be made without a few fundamentals. He wanted a photograph, some background information—something that would tempt him to accept, or dissuade him from doing so. In fact, he wanted the woman's whole damned file so he could judge for himself whether or not she was someone he should consider taking a chance on. Accepting her icon meant he'd forfeit the two amber folders he presently held. As well, his own file would be pulled from active status for six months, regardless of the outcome. That alone warranted more than two black bullets and the option to accept or decline.
What he wanted, however, didn't alter what he'd been given. No photo, no background data, and forty-eight hours to make a decision that could impact the rest of his life.
Frowning, he tugged at his tie, loosened it, and resumed his seat. The computer's quiet chime sounded for a second time, prompting him to acknowledge receipt of the link notification and mark the beginning of his forty-eight-hour deadline. He could gain a few extra hours by taking no action, but the stats he'd been working on would remain frozen until he responded. He'd be present at tomorrow morning's board meeting, but he'd have little to offer.
With that in mind he reached forward, typed his password into the prompt, and pressed Enter. The icon stopped blinking and became a solid visual of the future it represented. A small digital clock appeared above the black bullets to begin counting down the seconds. He had precisely forty-seven hours, fifty-nine minutes, and fifty-seven seconds to make a life-altering decision.
"Simon?"
He looked up, surprised to learn someone else was in the building.
Ethan stood in the doorway, hands braced on either side of the jamb, shirt sleeves rolled up and, like Simon, the knot of his tie comfortably loosened. From behind, he and Ethan resembled one another, both standing over six feet in height, dark hair styled with the same cut close to the collar, and broad shoulders that tapered to long, muscular legs. But Ethan's relaxed, easy charm was daylight to Simon's analytical intensity. Unless he made a conscious effort to appear otherwise, he'd been told his eyes were piercing, even daunting. And unlike Ethan's, his smiles were generally well-earned.
"Ethan." He glanced down at his watch. "I thought you said something about a dinner date tonight."
Pushing away from the doorframe, Ethan rapped it a couple of times and crossed the threshold. "Last minute cancellation," he said.
He crossed the thick gray carpet, shifted one of the black leather chairs in front of Simon's desk to suit his frame, then sat down and stretched out his legs.
It was a relaxed position, but there'd been something in his tone of voice that said otherwise. And that agitated rap on the doorjamb . . . . Simon eyed him and waited.
"I have a link with Denny Cooper," Ethan announced after a minute. Then he clenched his jaw, unclenched, and said. "She's Dalton Cooper's sister."
It took a second for the woman's name to register then another to connect her to one of RUSH's E-level 7 instructors. "You're talking about the new-hire out in Reception? Denise Cooper?"
"That's her."
Then the significance of that connection clicked into place. Dalton's sister. She was obviously a much younger sister. Dalton was somewhere near his own age and Denise Cooper—Denny—was a college sophomore if he remembered correctly. He had a feeling RUSH was about to be thrown another of those curveballs.
"Is this going where I think it is?" he asked.
"Probably."
Sighing, he sat back, resigned himself, and said, "Terrific."
Ethan harrumphed an agreement.
Dalton Cooper was one of RUSH's principal instructors. He was the first male with whom the new resident females had contact because he had the temperament required to guide women through their first sexual encounter with a stranger. On more than one occasion Simon had observed him at work, impressed by his skill at drawing whatever response he wanted from an untrained female. And the R-links—every one of them—asked to work with him again.
"You didn't know?" he asked Ethan, referring to the relationship between Dalton and their new receptionist.
"Hadn't even considered it."
"Does Dalton know she's an employee here?"
"He does now. I was on my way back from the entertainment sector when I saw her turn onto the path toward Checkpoint 2. Dalton was coming from the opposite direction and they just about collided on the bend where the landscaping cuts in." He scowled. "They both froze, staring at one another. Then Dalton grabbed her by the arm and manhandled her back toward the checkpoint."
Simon raised a brow.
"Exactly. I was halfway up the path when the connection struck—Cooper-Cooper. This isn't something I should have been making a potshot guess at out on the sidewalk. It's a security issue."
"I agree. Did you follow them?"
"From a distance. He put Denny into her car, slammed the door shut, then headed over to his own car."
"A protective brother."
"Looks that way." Ethan sighed, stared at the far wall, then brought his eyes back to Simon's. "I headed over to Personnel for confirmation, had Rita pull her file, and there it was—Dalton's name listed under Relatives Affiliated With RUSH. Both of those files should have been flagged as soon as she entered his name in that slot."
"Again, I agree. It's another one of those details we overlooked. Fortunately they don't crop up so often anymore."
"Mmm."
"So what happened to your dinner date?"
"She called a few minutes after that and cancelled."
"Did she mention running into Dalton?"
"Nope. She kept it quick, gave no reason, and she didn't mention Dalton at all. I wouldn't have had a clue if I hadn't seen
them together."
Simon considered RUSH's instructor and the results didn't look promising. "Are we about to lose another receptionist?'
Ethan scowled. "I guess that depends on whether or not Denny can hold her own. I don't know much about Dalton. Not personally. I've seen him over at The Den a couple of times and I've watched him work, but that's all. I don't know what sort of relationship he has with his sister. —With women in general, sure. It's obvious he has some sort of connection to the female psyche. All the R-links are crazy about him."
"It's a good thing we don't have to compete with him for a link," Simon commented.
Ethan gave a wry smile then straightened in his chair. "This isn't going to go away quietly," he said. "For all that empathy he has with the female psyche, Dalton is just as alpha as the rest of us, and she's his sister."
Simon didn't know much more about Dalton Cooper than Ethan. The instructor came from an upper-middle-class background. His father was John Lloyd Cooper—the John Lloyd Cooper—prize-winning photojournalist. And if Simon remembered correctly, Dalton owned his own business. Something to do with solar energy. The question was, how much influence did he have over his sister? Was RUSH going to lose an active female client? Hell, he hoped not. They needed every female who could pass all the markers.
A thought occurred to him and he looked up. "Has Denny been with us long enough to qualify for more than one link?"
It wasn't an odd question, but Ethan stared back at him with a curious expression. "Why do you ask?"
Simon noted the expression but let it pass. "Just had a thought," he said. "If she's been here less than a month, Dalton will know her link with you is monogamous—at least on her part." He shrugged. "That might soothe some of his big-brother protectiveness. It'll give him time to adjust to her position here before she eases into a more active membership."
Ethan didn't answer. His lips compressed and he thumped one palm against the arm of his chair, pushing himself up out of it.
He walked over to the wall of windows, raking a hand through his hair before shoving that same hand deep into his pants pocket. When he met Simon's eyes in the blurry reflection of the glass, his expression was set. "My link with her is monogamous," he stated. "It's a green class. Status--."
Simon could only stare. No words came to mind that would express his incredulity without sounding superior. During all the time RUSH had been in operation, the total number of green classification links amounted to only three. And until a few days ago, none of those links had reached higher than status-1. His own experience with green had been a status-1. Then, out of nowhere, a status-- had all but jumped off the monitor when he brought up the week's statistics. Learning now that it had been delivered to, and accepted by Ethan was more surprising than the discovery itself. Ethan was one of his business partners. He, along with the rest of them had invested millions for the opportunity to live the lifestyle RUSH offered. Why would he accept a monogamous status-- green that would inactivate his file for the next three months? Hadn't he learned from Simon's experience?
"I see," he said at length.
But Ethan gave a short laugh and turned. "Do you?"
Simon couldn't hold back a smile. "No, actually, I don't."
Without intending to, he glanced at the quasi-innocuous icon on his own monitor. Spaced just days apart, the system had generated two high-ranking links. Status-- green was only a step away from blue.
Sliding his chair back, he pushed to his feet and motioned Ethan over. Maybe he was missing something here. RUSH had been created to provide them with the convenience of safe, uncomplicated sex. Monogamous links hadn't even been part of the initial plan. Now, two women had suddenly decided to use the system as a matchmaking tool. He wanted to know why. And he wanted to know why Ethan had given up the freedom and pleasure of variety for the constraints of a relationship.
Ethan walked back toward the desk and circled around. His gaze followed Simon's gesture toward the monitor, then both brows shot up. Turning sharply, he met Simon's eyes . . . and promptly burst out laughing.
Simon found no humor at all in the situation. He gave Ethan his ten seconds, however, then raised a sardonic brow. "That wasn't the reaction I expected," he said, scowling.
"Sorry."
Ethan chuckled, then cleared his throat. "Call it comic relief—the misery-loves-company thing." Then he frowned and looked toward the monitor again. "Well, hell."
This time it was Simon's turn to grumble. "Probably, yes."
"I didn't think we'd ever see one of those."
"Surprised the hell out of me."
Ethan walked back around the desk and resumed his seat. "Are you going to accept it?"
"I'm not planning to, no."
"Been thinking about it though?"
"More like staring at it." Simon sat down as well and said, "It appeared just before you showed up."
"After hours? Isn't that unusual?"
Simon frowned and looked at his watch. Nearly six o'clock. "You're right. Why would Meredith be here this late?"
"I have no idea what goes on in that department." Relaxing, Ethan stretched his legs out again and crossed his ankles. His earlier tension was no longer evident when he nodded toward the monitor and asked, "Are you sure you want to pass her on to someone else?"
Again, Simon raised a brow. "Why? You have some words of wisdom to hand down?"
"Maybe."
Ethan glanced at his shoes, re-crossed his ankles, then looked back up. "When you work and play at a place like RUSH, the opportunity to meet someone—a woman you can share quality time with—doesn't exist." He held up a hand when Simon started to interrupt. "I know, I know. That's the reason we invested in RUSH to begin with. And I wasn't looking," he qualified. "But when the opportunity appeared on my monitor and I sat staring at a status-- green, I realized it might never happen again. So I did some investigating."
That got Simon's attention. Had Ethan figured out how to identify his link without accepting her icon? "Investigating how?"
Ethan gave a knowing smile. "Remember when I asked you on Monday if any blue icons had been declined?"
"Sure I remember. You came out of left field with that one."
"I guess I did. But there was too much on the line to go into this blindly. I wanted information. And I specifically wanted to know if the icon on my monitor had been passed on to me because someone else had declined a blue."
Simon wasn't sure why that mattered, but he kept silent.
"So I asked Personnel for the names of our most recent female applicants which, by the way, total only two for the month. But you probably know that already."
"Yes, I know."
"Well, one of those new applicants is a woman named Nina Millering. And the other is our new receptionist, Denny. Nina Millering applied for an R-link membership, so that left Denny."
"But that's inconclusive. It could have been anyone. She didn't have to be a new applicant. Any of our female clients could have decided to apply for something higher than amber."
"That did occur to me. But if I was right, I'd know who my green link was without having to accept her folder first." He shrugged. "I took a chance and played the odds and, sure enough, Denny's folder downloaded into my system."
Actually, Simon thought, the odds hadn't been in Ethan's favor at all. "You were lucky."
"I know." Ethan smiled his easy smile. "But I gave it a shot and it played out. I was already interested anyway."
"You're always interested," Simon reminded him. "That's how we lost our last receptionist."
Ethan raised both hands in a gesture of innocence. "Not my fault. All I did was say good morning."
That was probably true enough. But Ethan sometimes walked a fine line. Michael did as well. Both had an easy-going charm that attracted women without effort, and both men enjoyed that power. Sexual overtures, however, were prohibited without a link. And while both Ethan and Michael exercised a fair measure of that God-given charm, neither coul
d be said to have crossed into penalty territory.
Still, Ethan had probably smiled one too many times in the receptionist's direction, or asked how her morning had gone on one too many days. Whatever the reason, she'd become infatuated. When she asked to have her file removed from active status, it had been the first time such a request had been made.
Several women at one time or another had taken a temporary reprieve while undergoing an enhancement procedure. But their files were activated again following recovery. The withdrawal of Admin's receptionist on the other hand had aroused concern.
A private meeting with a female security guard had been arranged to assure her that any misconduct on the part of a male client would be dealt with and she was carefully urged to file such a report. Eventually, however, the young woman admitted to removing her file from the system because she was attracted to Ethan Vale. Unfortunately, withdrawing under those circumstances had nullified her membership and her job had been forfeited—a stipulation covered in both the membership and employment contracts.
"One of these days . . . ."
"It won't happen," Ethan told him. "I'm careful. I might enjoy myself, but I'm careful."
Simon grunted. Then he brought the conversation back to their newest concern. "So how do you propose to deal with Dalton?"
"I've been thinking about that."
Of course he had. "And?" Simon prompted.
"And if this unfolds the way I see it going, I'll probably be driving home tomorrow with a black eye."
"You're joking."
"No, I'm serious."
"You want us to fire Dalton?"
"No. That's not the objective here. If Dalton had a brother, and they both belonged to RUSH, they'd be over at The Den right now drinking shots of tequila and congratulating one another on the day's exploits. But that's not what happens when it comes to a sister. So Dalton's feeling angry and dogmatic and territorial and I understand that because I'm feeling pretty dogmatic and territorial myself and I hardly know the girl. It's what she represents. Dalton feels the need to defend what he considers morally sacred, and I applaud that. But I'm just as determined to have what's mine." He shrugged a shoulder. "So I'll let him throw the first punch to release some of that aggression. Then he'll have the consolation of knowing he took steps to protect his sister from the clutches of depravity."