by Natalie Grey
Chapter Four
Sam pulled into the parking lot of Dragon Soul Productions and turned off the car. He couldn’t quite bring himself to get out, though. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and noticed that he was shaking with adrenaline. He’d never been good in situations like this, and boy, was he in one now.
No, that wasn’t quite right. This hadn’t happened to him. He'd done it to himself. The night before, he had orchestrated a pizza party for the express purpose of distracting Dan and Dhruv. It had worked beautifully.
He hadn’t been sure of that at first, of course. When the two of them took off like bats out of hell, Sam had been frozen in place, unsure if he should run after them. That would have been an undeniable sign of what was happening, and he still wasn’t sure if they’d figured it out.
He hadn’t been sure he’d succeeded until he got a text from Jay a few minutes later.
They took the servers down, but we finished first.
Sam had tried to maintain a facade of normalcy and wound up feeling incredibly ridiculous, wandering around the party with a slice of pizza in one hand and a cup of soda in the other. Waiting to be fired. He’d waited, and he’d waited, and he’d waited some more.
When his shift was over, he had left, half-expecting someone to come running after him.
What did you do when you’d committed a firing offense, and no one had noticed yet?
They’d certainly noticed by now. He opened his car door and sighed. He’d done everything he could, and it was time to face the music. His wife wouldn’t be pleased, but she would understand. She knew that Sam didn’t do things like this without good reason.
And he would be able to find another job.
Still, he was surprised when swiping his badge let him into the building. He stared at the computer for a good five seconds before walking through the turnstile, and when he got to his office, he looked around for booby traps before sitting down.
He glanced at the door. No one was coming down the hallway.
Hmm.
He turned on his computer and opened his email. There was nothing unusual there.
A meeting invite came in with a bloop, and Sam jumped and nearly spilled his coffee down his front. He carefully put the mug on the desk before looking at the meeting invite, but he’d seen the location. His heart was already pounding.
Dan’s office.
He steeled himself to look once more, confirmed that the meeting was for right now, and decided to bring his coffee and breakfast sandwich.
If he was getting fired anyway, why not? He took a big bite of his bagel as he walked and washed it down with some coffee. He was really going to miss everyone here, but he was trying not to think about that.
And then he walked into Dan’s office—to see Jay.
“Thay?” he managed through a mouthful of bagel.
Jay had been engaged in a stare-off with Dhruv, but he looked around at this. “Sam.”
Sam swallowed hastily. “Hi.” He set his food down on the table and reached out to shake Jay’s hand, then changed his mind and hugged him. “How have you been?”
“Good.” Jay gave a wary look at the other two. “So, uh…”
“Yes,” Dan said. “Please, sit.” He shot a look at Dhruv, which Sam identified as the same one he gave his four-year-old when she had a crayon in one hand and a nice, blank expanse of wall in front of her. “Don’t you dare.”
Sam glanced at Dan, who looked equably back. Dan was well over thirty and eternally sleep-deprived, but he somehow managed to look fresh-faced, like a rumpled college student who had never quite learned how to use a comb.
Dan looked at Jay. “Last night, Sam asked to speak to me about you. About bringing you back on board.”
Sam froze. Oh, no. He had in fact done that, but he had done so as part of the distraction. When Jay shot a look at him, he took a big bite of his bagel instead of looking back.
“He made several compelling points,” Dan continued, seeing that Sam did not seem inclined to pick up the thread of conversation. “Your record was incredibly good, and you consistently received high review scores as a manager. In similar situations, there is usually a pattern of problems, but there was not one here.”
He paused, perhaps waiting for a response from Jay.
Jay looked at Sam, however. “You…didn’t mention this to me.”
“I didn’t want to promise anything,” Sam mumbled. It held together as an excuse.
Dan nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you came to us first. It was a trying night.”
Now they had come to it. Sam sat up warily.
“As you are almost certainly aware,” Dan said to Sam, “and as you are, of course, fully aware,” a pointed look at Jay, “Callista finished Harry’s embedded quest last night.”
“Mmm,” Sam managed. “Yes, I saw there was a server outage?”
Dan’s expression flickered slightly. “Yes,” he said, but did not elaborate. He gazed at Jay for a long moment. “Now, as you know, we did not want…Gracie…to finish the quest. Part of that was due to the havoc it wreaked on the ranking system, but part of it was also that we have no way to know the scope of what has just happened.”
“There is one person who knows,” Jay pointed out. He sat back in his chair, and his eyes flicked between Dan and Dhruv. “Have you asked him?”
“I think you know we haven’t,” Dhruv replied.
“Surely you can understand,” Dan chimed in, cutting back in before things could escalate. For a moment, he looked deeply weary.
“I’m not sure anymore,” Jay said. “Harry keeps being treated as this total wild card, but as far as I know, neither of you has gone out of your way to actually talk to the man.”
“Gracie has,” Dan said silkily. “Well, he spoke to her.”
“You knew about that?” Jay demanded.
“We found out about it last night,” Dan said. He folded his hands in his lap. “When we spoke to her.”
“When you what?” Jay asked far too nicely.
“Believe it or not, everyone came out of it with their bones unbroken and their egos unshattered,” Dan snapped, finally losing his patience. “The point is, we have begun an open dialog with her, and we brought you here to offer you your job back. I will not insult you by lying—we did hope not to be in this situation. However, since we are here, it is necessary for us to change.”
“A particularly heartfelt apology would be a good start,” Jay said.
Sam shot him a look that said, “Goddamn, man.”
Jay sighed. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“Accurate, though,” Dhruv weighed in. He crossed his arms and stared at Jay. “I argued in your favor as well. You say what you mean. I like that.”
“The only thing we have to consider,” Dan said, “is whether or not you feel…comfortable…returning. Well, two: how we deal with any similar issues in the future.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Jay said, “you’re admitting I was right?”
“No,” Dan said flatly. “We made considered decisions to contain an unknown threat. We did not owe it to you to follow some democratic ideal of what to do. We are a business, Jay. Our obligation is to our funders.”
Jay said nothing to this, but Sam could see him fighting not to snap at Dan.
“So, perhaps the question is,” Dan continued, “are you willing to work for a company that is funded this way? You’re knowledgeable, Jay. You’re a good boss, and your employees have missed you. Your own boss came to speak to us, asking us to reconsider. That’s not a small thing.” He paused. “And you did what you did, in part because of your care for the game,” he admitted grudgingly.
Jay considered this. “Yes,” he said finally. “I would like to come back.”
Sam said a silent prayer of thanks. He hadn’t considered it possible that Dan and Dhruv would seriously consider his suggestion or that Jay would, but he was glad it was working out.
“Excellent,”
Dan said. “I want to set the clear expectation that in the future, you will come to us with any similar concerns and that we will take them under advisement. We may or may not make the decision you are hoping for. Is that workable?”
Jay did not hesitate. “Yes.”
“Good.” Dan smiled. “I will let HR know you’ve been reinstated. Would you be willing to start tomorrow?”
Now Jay did take a moment to consider. “Yes,” he said finally.
Dan nodded. “Thank you both for your time.” It was a clear dismissal.
Outside the room, Sam and Jay walked in silence. By mutual agreement, they made their way to the parking lot and over to Jay’s semi-battered old two-door. Jay waited by the car and gave Sam a curious look, and Sam sighed.
“I was trying to distract them last night. I didn’t think he’d take the suggestion seriously.”
Jay burst out laughing. “So all of this—you thought it was—”
“I left my bagel,” Sam said, staring back at the building. “Son of a bitch!”
Jay snorted and wiped his eyes. “So, you threw a Hail Mary into the stands and someone caught it.”
“Pretty much,” Sam agreed after taking a moment to consider it. “And you actually want to come back?”
“More or less.” Jay shrugged.
“Jay, don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t,” Jay assured him with the most insincere smile Sam had ever seen.
Sam sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Go get some rest.”
“The hell I will,” Jay said bluntly. “I’m going to go find out exactly what they said to Gracie last night.”
Chapter Five
Thad had been a terrible boss. Now that Jamie was gone, he could admit that. Moody and competitive, Thad needed to be the best in the room, and he couldn’t cope with anyone else even coming close.
It was probably why the Demon Syndicate wouldn’t stay a top-tier guild, Jamie reflected. As soon as Thad found the best players, he would either drive them away with his competitiveness or keep them from becoming the best they could be.
There was one thing to be said for Thad’s sulkiness, however. Jamie had been able to pack up his room and get out of the building without having to talk to him. The others had hovered nearby, no one quite willing to take the risk of helping Jamie pack, but they had all given him handshakes or hugs on the way out. Some of the newbies looked particularly terrified. It was difficult when a guild lost their top healer.
Jamie rode the high of his decision until the cab driver asked him where he wanted to go.
Then he realized he had no idea, and he was carrying all of his worldly possessions in two suitcases. He stared blankly, but the cab driver, who had apparently seen similar situations before, drove Jamie to a nearby coffee shop near the bus line, offering comforting platitudes about how women weren’t worth the trouble and telling Jamie he could live a better life as a bachelor. Apparently, he’d decided that Jamie had been thrown out of his apartment after a fight with a girlfriend.
Jamie was too shell-shocked to correct him.
In the coffee shop, the solution came to him in the form of a text message.
Just checking in, it read. I know you’re probably getting reamed out right now. Just let us know how it shakes out—and if you need help.
Jamie stared at the message for a long time, trying to decide if it was a genuine offer. In the end, he threw caution to the winds and typed back: Actually…
Which was how he found himself walking out of Sea-Tac Airport a scant six hours later, shivering in the drizzly cold and peering into the passing cars until a man flagged him down with a smile.
“Hey,” Kevin said, stepping out of a Tesla Model 3.
Jamie gaped. He was unusually attractive, a fact that had always made him more self-conscious than proud. It had been especially awkward when Brightstar wanted to use Jamie for all of their promo photos and Thad had glowered in the background.
He didn’t hold a candle to Kevin, though. He was 5’8” or so and had dark blond hair. Kevin’s jawline might have been chiseled from stone, and his clothes, perfectly tailored, fell over a body that spoke of a personal trainer and a carefully-curated diet.
Kevin raised one perfect eyebrow at Jamie’s dumbstruck expression.
“I, uh…” Jamie cleared his throat and recovered. “Was kind of expecting a Piskie with pink hair.”
Kevin burst out laughing and came over to clasp Jamie’s hand before loading his bags into the trunk of the car. He opened the passenger door for Jamie before heading back around to slide into the driver’s seat.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“A little.” Jamie’s stomach grumbled loudly. “Ravenous, actually. I just can’t face being in a restaurant.”
“Takeout, it is.” Kevin handed his phone over and pulled away from the curb. “If you go into my favorites there, you’ll see the places that deliver. Whatever looks good to you. I’m easy.”
“You’re getting a call.” Jamie handed the phone back.
Kevin looked at the screen and grimaced. “Hit Ignore, would you?” When he saw Jamie’s curious expression, he gave a half-embarrassed shrug. “Long story.”
“I have literally nothing else to do,” Jamie pointed out.
“You have food to order,” Kevin reminded him.
Jamie ordered them both food and then craned around to look at the gray clouds and the Seattle skyline. His own phone rang, and he looked down to see Evan’s number. He hadn’t ever given Brightstar an official resignation, he realized now.
Whoops.
Kevin’s phone rang again the next moment, showing the same number as before, and both men started laughing. They were wearing the same expression of resignation and guiltiness.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” Jamie offered. “Of course, you know what’s going on with me.”
“You didn’t exactly explain it,” Kevin pointed out. “But I gather you hightailed it out of there after the boss went down. It’s good that you managed to get your stuff. Assuming that is your stuff.” He looked over. “You didn’t steal a bunch of VR equipment, did you?”
“No.” Jamie laughed, then shivered. “Uh, can I turn the heat up?”
“Sure. Let’s stop somewhere to get you a sweatshirt, too. I’d offer you one of mine, but you’re tall.” Kevin looked around, clearly thinking, then pulled into the exit lane to head to a nearby mall.
“And what about you…?” Jamie asked pointedly.
“This feels like an uneven trade.” Kevin sighed as he took the exit in a quick, controlled curve. “Eh, it’s no big deal. I just met, you know…the One.”
“What?” Jamie looked down at the phone. “Do you…shouldn’t you call him back?”
“No, because he’s boring as sin,” Kevin said bluntly.
“I thought you said—”
“He is,” Kevin said. “He’s exactly what I’ve been looking for for years. Thought he didn’t exist. Loves the same shows I do, doesn’t mind the video games, has a good career, likes to travel, great taste, all of it. And I found him—and he bores me to fucking tears.” He sighed as he pulled into the parking lot of the mall. “I just got a promotion at work, and I have the job I’ve wanted, also for years, and I hate that, too.” He shut off the car and considered for a moment. “You don’t need to hear all of this right now. You’ve had a day. Let’s get you some warmer clothes and head home for food.” He got out of the car.
“Or…” Jamie said, also getting out, “we could get me warmer clothes, get a bottle of tequila, and then go home for food.” He gave a grin. “Our lives both went to shit.”
“So let’s get shitfaced?” Kevin asked, looking bemused.
“Pretty much. Get all the ranting out of our systems.”
“You’re on.” Kevin led the way into the mall. “But I’m going to teach you to like port because tequila is disgusting.”
“That’s because you’ve never had good tequila,” Jam
ie asserted confidently. “Trust me, I’ll have you converted by tomorrow.”
“A lot of people have said that to me over the years,” Kevin told him philosophically. “Of course, they were all female. And talking about something else.”
Jamie guffawed but sobered quickly. “Thanks for giving me a place to crash.”
“Anytime,” Kevin said easily.
The best thing about having Dan and Dhruv as enemies, Harry had decided, was that they were clever enough to make good connections. They understood the playing field well, and their instincts were well-honed.
He could use their hunches now to lay his groundwork. They had identified the relevant players, and it was up to Harry now to make better use of those players than they could.
After all, he understood now that their defiance was only to be expected. He could not ask for anything more than that. It was the nature of humans to resist kings, so a king must be ready to hold his throne.
Callista has your throne. The thought was unwelcome and made him clench his teeth in frustration.
That was temporary. There was enough chaos in the world to push anyone to the throne, but most of them could not hold it. What would set Harry apart was the fact that he could. No matter how many people tried to stand in his way, he would find his rightful place. This was a test, nothing more.
He did not even entertain the thought that the test would find him unworthy. These tests were nothing more than smelting metal to burn away the impurities, and when they were passed, only the king would remain, stronger than before.
His choice—his first choice—was simple. There was someone else who had been wronged as he had, and who knew Callista.
What should have been easy, however, fell to ruin almost at once.
“Hello?” The man’s voice was cautious. “Who is this?”
“Jay?” Harry kept his voice casual, although his pulse sped up. He was so close. Things were falling into place perfectly.
How had he ever doubted himself?
“Who is this?” Jay repeated.
“Harry,” Harry said. “I take it you know that name.”