Some Like It Geek: A Really Big Set of Romances

by Box Set

  Aaron boarded his company’s private jet back to New York, desperately in need of a nap. But before he could sleep, there was one more urgent matter in need of addressing.

  Katie.

  Flopping into a plush leather seat, he waved off his attendant, popped up the video conference screen on his side table, and rang Katie.

  She felt sick. And no, not because of the flu, but because she was disgusted. With the media. With Aaron. But most of all, with herself.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  There’d been a company interested in her work, in her ideas, and Aaron had swooped in and put a stop to it. Bought them out before they could even approach her. He hadn’t trusted her to talk to him, to give EI a chance to counter the offer, he’d just taken it away before she even knew it existed.

  Her laptop rang with another video chat request.

  Her cursor hovered over the accept button for a moment. Six rings. Seven. Finally she hit accept, voice only, no video. She really couldn’t bear for Aaron to see her right now.

  “Katie?” His voice sounded tinny and distant, his dress shirt was unbuttoned a little and he looked tired. Still gorgeous, the bastard, but tired. “Sorry,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m on the plane, looks like we have a shaky connection. I don’t have any video for you.”

  “I turned it off,” she said, her voice strained and hoarse. “I’m sick. I look like shit.”

  “Oh I doubt that,” he said, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “I can’t imagine that’s even possible.”

  “Then you didn’t see today’s Game Hour.”

  “I saw the segment on EI,” he said. “Aiko forwarded me the video. That’s partly why I’m calling.”

  Katie didn’t respond, just picked at some cat hair on her comforter.

  “Hey I’m on my way back to the city,” he said. “Can I stop by and see you? I…” he cleared his throat and she saw him swallow, heard hesitation in his voice, and knew it for what it was. Regret.

  “I haven’t seen you since Lux,” he said. “And so much has happened since then. I really think we should talk. In person ya know?”

  Well that was it, wasn’t it? They met. They fucked. He stole her business opportunity and now he wanted a chance to smooth it over, try to come off as good guy before he broke her heart.

  He probably had some stupid explanation like how it was all for her own good, and really things would work out better this way, and honestly it’s just business, don’t take it personally.

  No. Her work was personal, it was everything, and if he couldn’t see that, didn’t get that, well then there was nothing to talk about.

  Katie laughed, one rueful scoff, that quickly turned into a coughing fit.

  “I’m sick,” she said again. “And I’ve got no voice–”

  “If you’re worried about me getting your flu,” he said. “I don’t care. This is more important.”

  “Aaron,” she croaked, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I literally can not talk to you right now.”

  She hit the hang up button, and ended the call.

  Rupert came over for a cuddle and Katie gathered him up, rubbing tear stained cheeks against his fur.

  Her cell phone buzzed against the comforter, and she flipped it over with one hand.

  Aaron: When you can talk, call me. Or text, that’s great too. But please, Katie.

  But please Katie? But please…what?

  Pushing Rupert off her lap she started to text back, her fingers flying over the keyboard. But then she stopped.

  There was so much to say, but really, none of it mattered. So what was the point?

  Deleting what she’d written, she replaced it with a thumbs up emoji, and hit send.

  Thumbs up? Aaron squinted at his cellphone. Well shit, that wasn’t good.

  Katie hadn’t said a lot in their conversation, but she hadn’t needed to. He could sense she was upset. Could read her well enough, even after a few days, that he knew she was putting up the defenses and shutting him out. He couldn’t say he blamed her.

  They’d shared a lot, in a really short amount of time, and it had been intense. The past few days, he’d felt like he was free-falling, unsure of where this thing was headed, but completely willing to hang on for the ride.

  Problem with wild rides was, they frequently crashed. And here he was, in the same place he’d been time after time, in relationship after relationship. He should’ve put her first, instead of business. Should’ve woken her up the morning after their night at Lux and kissed her, held her, made plans to see her that night, instead of writing a note and sneaking out to his meetings.

  Truth was, he’d been scared. Because when he’d woken up next to her, seen that lovely face relaxed and peaceful in sleep, delicate fingers laying on his chest, he couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than waking up to that same picture every morning.

  It was fucking terrifying. Because he was pretty sure he this free fall was gonna land with him in love. And love had never really worked out for him before. Why should it now?

  Chapter Twenty

  It had been days, and Aaron still hadn’t heard from Katie. He’d seen her avatar popping up online, but she hadn’t sent him any messages. He hadn’t tried to contact her since that last text he sent. The thumbs up had seemed pretty clear –Don’t call me, I’ll call you.

  He had to fend off fans in-world who asked when she’d be co-hosting streams with him again. There were thousands of comments on the HyperLyfe blog, all asking for Catalina Celestina. The press had tried to paint her poorly, but the fans knew better. The day after the Game Hour segment, there were dozens of blogs posts online defending Katie Martinez, acknowledging her part in the history of Galaxus Games, and calling out the media for slut-shaming.

  That last part made Aaron cringe. While he agreed that slut-shaming was bullshit, he figured Katie would’ve preferred no speculation about her private life at all.

  “Oh my god,” Aiko whined as her purple bug avatar buzzed through the window of Aaron’s castle. “You and Katie are literally the most annoying people I know right now.”

  “Aik, get out of here,” said Aaron. “I’ve got an interview in a few minutes, and I’m not interested in your relationship advice.”

  “Got to have a relationship to get advice about it,” Aiko said with a sniff. “And you two fucked that up,” she mumbled.

  “I can’t make her talk to me,” he said. “And if I can’t talk to her I can’t explain.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Aiko’s avatar hovered in his castle window, tiny hands on purple hips.

  “I know she’s mad,” said Aaron. “But Jesus Christ, she told me herself not to let our personal relationship get in the way of running my business.”

  “Riiiggghhht.” Aiko’s avatar morphed, changed into a life-like replica of her real life self, complete with irritated facial expression. “First, she told you that before you two had sex. When that happened, the limits changed, and you guys should’ve renegotiated.”

  “Can’t do that without talking,” said Aaron.

  “Two.” Aiko ignored him and held up two fingers. “When you bought ZumZum, you basically backed her into a corner.”

  “What? How?”

  “Well now, her opportunity to port out Celestia is gone.”

  “No it’s not.”

  “Okay, then if it’s still there, since EI owns ZumZum, the deal would go through you.”

  “Well yeah.”

  “And that doesn’t strike you as a development that could come off as controlling, manipulative, or at the very least high-handed?”

  Aaron didn’t respond. An alert popped up on his display telling him it was time for his interview, but he dismissed it, telling his assistant to give him another minute.

  “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I see your point. Especially considering her history with Galaxus, that had to be…unsettling. But again, I can’t make this right if she won’t even talk
to me.”

  “True, and when we talk to her we’re going to berate her as well.”

  “We?”

  Katie’s mom had shown up three days ago. She hadn’t needed Aiko’s call to know that her baby was hurting. Barbara Martinez knew when her girl was sick with more than just the flu. Poor thing was heartsick, and weary, and going to places in her head that she hadn’t visited since she’d been in that awful accident. Since that boy had nearly broken her.

  After that accident, Barb had been wary when Katie began spending so much time in HyperLyfe. She’d worried it was unhealthy, a way to escape the real life. Then one evening she’d joined Katie in world, and Barbarella69 was born. She never looked back.

  HyperLyfe had been a way for Barb to spend time with her daughter when they lived so far apart. It had expanded her social circle, which, as a widowed retiree, seemed to keep getting smaller in the real world. In HyperLyfe Barb had friends from all over the world, and her non-hearing status was never a barrier. A text-to-speech simulator Katie had bought for her let Barb type whatever she wanted, while her avatar spoke the words.

  She kind of wished she had one of those gadgets right now. She’d been arguing with Katie for the last hour, and getting nowhere. When her stubborn daughter finally buried her head in her pillow, Barb stomped on the floor to get Katie’s attention.

  “Not fair,” she signed when Katie lifted her head. “Don’t do that!”

  “I’m sorry,” Katie signed back. “But I’m done talking about this, Mom. I’m not calling him.”

  “You’re scared,” Barb signed. “All relationships have issues, give him a chance.”

  “I’m done.” Katie’s lips moved and she held up her hands.

  Barb lip-read the words, then threw her own hands up and huffed in frustration. “I’m making lunch,” she signed. “You must be feeling better if you can be this hard-headed.”

  She saw the television turn on as she turned to leave the bedroom. Katie had been tuned into the Gaming Channel too much in her opinion, and here it was on again, a headline about HyperLyfe scrolling across the screen.

  “Captions,” she signed, snapping her fingers at Katie. Lunch could wait.

  Katie loved her Mom, but there was a reason they lived hours away from each other. There was a time, right after her accident that she’d been tempted to move back home, to just curl up into herself and let Mommy handle all the grown-up stuff. But thankfully while Barb was nurturing, she wasn’t the type to coddle, so Katie had stayed on her own and pulled herself back up by her virtual bootstraps. They saw each other frequently in HyperLyfe. And when Katie saw how much her mother enjoyed it, she’d offered her the job of social director for Celestia. They kept their real life relationship to themselves. It was simpler if Celestia residents didn’t know they were related in real life. And, for the most part, it had never caused any issues.

  Until today. When Mom had decided that because she’d met Aaron Eldridge for five hot seconds in a video game, she knew he was a nice boy who deserved another chane.

  Whatever.

  Closing her eyes on her Mom had been incredibly rude. Nearly tantamount to walking out on her, but Katie had reached her limit on the Aaron topic and needed it to end. She turned on the captioning for Game Hour and winced when Aaron’s avatar appeared on the screen. He was dressed in his kilt, standing in front of a roaring fire in the massive stone great room of his Scottish castle.

  He looked gorgeous.

  “Great,” Katie groaned out loud. “Bring on the humiliation.”

  Barb sat down next to her on the bed and pointed at the screen. “He’s so cute,” she signed, grinning widely.

  Katie rolled her eyes.

  She missed the interviewer’s first comment, but Aaron’s avatar laughed, so it must’ve been a joke. It was good to see him laughing, even if the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “So what’s all this drama been about, Aaron?” said the interviewer. “It’s been pretty crazy.”

  “I’d definitely have to agree with that,” said Aaron, his avatar leaning against one side of the fireplace. “I never expected this project launch to take such a bizarre turn.”

  “It really has.”

  “Well, Stew, don’t sound so incredulous, your network has done a lot to help with that.”

  “We just report the news,” said the reporter. “We don’t make it up.”

  “Maybe not, but your network has been taking a point of view, a slant if you will, that hasn’t been fair, either to myself, my company, or private citizens.”

  “Mr. Eldridge–”

  “No it’s true.” Aaron held up his hands. “But we won’t dwell, and I acknowledge that I’ve made mistakes that certainly haven’t helped.”

  “For example?”

  “I let myself be baited. At that first press conference, I was baited into this month in VR thing to prove something that I’ve never believed needed to be proved anyway.”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t think any reasonable person really believes VR is an actual danger. Our sales have been phenomenal, we’ve got contracts with the military, corporations, and educational institutions all over the world that are anxious to implement VR. So, whatever hidden agendas have been lurking out there to discredit VR, I think they’ve already failed.”

  “So you won’t be fulfilling your month in VR commitment?”

  “No,” Aaron shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I’ll keep my promise.”

  “Some would argue that you’ve already failed. The fact that you’ve been spotted in the real world.”

  “The reporter had her point to prove, and I have mine.” Aaron’s avatar frowned. “She wanted to prove that VR led to addiction, that it was dangerous. I think the fact that I have taken time off, spent quality time in the real world with real people, proves that’s not the case. I trust the public to make up their own minds on that.”

  “Well, about that time you’ve spent in the real world…” the reporter’s tone grew salacious. “Do you care to comment on any of that? Rumor is that you and Carly Carpenter–”

  “Carly Carpenter and I haven’t been a couple for a long time now.”

  “Oh? She says otherwise.”

  “Stew, I like to think I’m a gentleman, and as such, I don’t enjoy calling her out like this but when she showed up in HyperLyfe and announced that we were back together, it was the first time I had heard from her in months.”

  “So you’re assertion is that you are not back together?”

  “No. We are not. It’s not just my assertion. It’s the truth.”

  Aaron’s avatar looked tense and Katie tensed in sympathy. She glanced at her mother. Barb’s arms were crossed, and she raised an eyebrow at Katie in a look that said “See, give the guy a chance.”

  “Are you seeing anyone right now?” asked the reporter.

  There was a long pause, and Katie felt herself leaning involuntarily toward the screen.

  “No,” Aaron said finally. “I’m not.”

  “So the photos,” said the reporter. “The one alleged to be of you at Lux? That’s not you?”

  “I’m a Lux investor. That’s common knowledge. The HL2 launch was there. I find it hilarious that anyone is scandalized of a photo of me in that building.”

  “Well the allegation was that–”

  “The allegation was that I was cheating on a girlfriend. I’ve just cleared that up. There was no girlfriend to cheat on. Period.”

  “So you aren’t involved with Celestia creator Katie Martinez?”

  Katie inhaled sharply and grabbed her Mom’s hand, while onscreen, Aaron’s avatar clenched its fists and shifted its weight.

  “What I am…” Aaron said the words quietly, slowly, and his avatar turned its gaze directly into the camera. “Is anxious to get back to discussing the technology that is going to transform our world for the better, a cause that I’ve devoted my life to.”

  “Yes but Mr. Eldridge, in the
present, what our viewers want to know is, are you and Katie Martinez involved, and if so, what does that mean for the future of Celestia?”

  “Nothing.” Aaron’s avatar sighed and shrugged its shoulders. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  His tone was flat, dismissive even, and Katie’s stomach lurched. Nothing? Doesn’t mean anything? What? Her? Her work? Or both?

  The reporter tried to dig a little more but Aaron curtly deflected him, so the topic switched to the ZumZum acquisition. Aaron glossed over it, indicating that he was excited to be bringing on new talent but that he couldn’t discuss the details yet. The interview ended on a sour note and Katie turned off the television and turned to her Mother.

  “See,” she signed. “He said it didn’t mean anything.”

  Barb frowned and shook her head. “I don’t think that was his intent,” she signed. “He was talking to a reporter about his private life. He should be talking to you. Call him.”

  Katie cut her hands through the air. “Enough,” she signed. “I’m ordering pizza. I’m starving.”

  “Oh! Can we do it in HL?” Barb signed. “I want to do that Gino’s delivery like you and Aaron did. You said I could try out the rig-bay.”

  Katie groaned and fell back against the bed.

  Fucking reporter.

  The guy was a dick who kept trying to steer the conversation to Katie and whether or not Aaron was banging her. It made him sick. He couldn’t wait until this month of bullshit was over.

  Aaron looked around the bedroom of his castle and imagined Katie there with him. He pictured her everywhere, the image in his mind a mix of the real and the virtual. The real Katie, strapped to his digital bed, the real Katie, dressed in a tartan skirt and corset made of pixels, laughing as he chased her up the stairs. When had his virtual memories started to merge with reality?

  It was partly the technology, he knew that. The S-suits and the rigs and the visors made sensory experience in the virtual world rival that of the physical.

  But mostly, it was Katie.

  He was in love with her.