Geek Actually Season 1 Omnibus

by Cathy Yardley

  She finally heard her tone. It had teeth she didn’t need to use with her brother. When had she started to go on the defense without giving the benefit of the doubt? Even with people who were actual family and knew her? Even in this short a time, her job was turning her into someone she didn’t recognize.

  There wasn’t time to consider her options before Diego came back. The laws of attraction stated he had to be cuter now that she was considering him as dateable. His dark hair could be considered ebony locks. His tapered nose had character. His five-o’clock shadow was just scruff peppering a chiseled chin. His eyes were kind and chocolate-brown.

  The plain white shirt and comfy-looking sweater he wore also took on a different light. Damn her parents for making her a romantic. No. No. It was still mostly Aditi’s fault for feeding her all those post-apocalytpic romances the past few months.

  “I found this in this back.” His deep voice rumbled as he placed another game on top of the others. “It has an online component I think you might like. The designer, she goes into this whole thing about creating games from mathematical probabilities. I didn’t understand half of it, but it was an interesting read. Check it out. Now, if you don’t like the games, you can bring them back within fourteen days for a refund.”

  Warmth suddenly became a steady presence at her side. Without looking at her brother, Taneesha asked, “What do you think, Bobby? All set?”

  “I don’t know,” her brother said, looking at Diego. “We have a game night tonight. Would you like to come, Diego? You can walk us through some of these. Though I might have to cut out early.”

  Diego glanced between Taneesha and her brother. It felt significant in the silent moment. “I have a raid tonight. It’s scheduled, and I can’t change the time.”

  Bobby’s face was devoid of any emotion.

  Diego handed Taneesha a receipt, wished them a good gaming night, and that was that. The whole exchange felt like a brush-off, an all-too-familiar emotion.

  Bobby took the bag of goodies and walked ahead of her to grab the door.

  “Be patient,” he said, when they reached the sidewalk. “He’s… uh… different.”

  She snapped, “What the hell does that mean?”

  He spread his hands as though surrendering. “It means I can’t tell you, but trust me. He’s feeling you, and I think he might be worth the trouble. You know I just wouldn’t say that. Give the man a chance. He suffers from foot-in-mouth syndrome. If you were to go back inside, I can promise you’d find him banging his head against the counter.”

  The idea soothed her ruffled feathers, but she needed proof. She needed more than “it gets better” promises. “Whatever. Let’s go to my house and choose a game.”

  “I’m not going to push, but let what I said simmer in the back of your mind.”

  She would, but the ball was now in Diego’s court. She was done being patient and understanding at work and in her personal life. And she would not, would not, daydream about his crooked smile.

  ELLI

  “Elli, can I speak to you for a moment?” Leonard asked.

  She jolted to attention, surprised. Where had he come from? Most of her shift, she’d only caught sight of him going to and coming from the warehouse in the back with a plumber or two. She had been left blissfully alone.

  Elli held a finger up to the older woman standing in front of her. “Lie down and I’ll be back to ask how you feel about the bed in a moment.”

  Leonard had a boss face, one she knew all too well. “Yes?” she asked.

  He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the once-perfect strands. “Why is there a guy sleeping in the adjustable bed?”

  She smiled, feeling a little proud. “He’s had a tough week. I figured having a nap is the perfect demonstration of the bed’s, um, suitability.”

  “How long has he been there?”

  She glanced at her phone. “About an hour,” she said. “He must’ve been really tired.”

  “You can’t just let people sleep on the beds for an hour!”

  “Oh?” Well, he hadn’t really stayed long enough to lay down ground rules. “So how long can the people sleep? I figure it takes at least twenty minutes to get the full effect.”

  “Are you kidding?” He raised his voice, and the snoozing guy startled, sitting upright, looking dazed. Leonard shot the customer a fake smile, then not-so-gently nudged Elli toward the back of the store. “You can’t let people sleep in here!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’re a store, not a hotel!” Leonard hissed.

  “Yes, but you’re a bed store,” she pointed out. “And it really helped me sell a bed this morning.”

  “You sold a bed?” Leonard sounded surprised.

  “Yes. One of those big plush ones,” she said, pointing to it. He frowned.

  “You sold a bed that was on sale,” he said. “How long did they sleep?”

  “About twenty minutes.”

  “Hmph. And how many people have you encouraged to ‘test-sleep’ the beds?”

  “All of them.” She shrugged. “I haven’t sold any other beds, but several people seemed really refreshed. This is a big decision, you know. I think it helped.”

  He rubbed his hand over his face as they watched the previously napping guy stagger out of the store. “Where is the sales paperwork? For the bed you sold?”

  She frowned. She’d put it down on Leonard’s messy desk. She walked him over to it, taking a second to unearth it from the new plumber’s bills and some other sundry paperwork that had come in. She handed it to him, sighing when he frowned.

  “This is filled in all wrong.”

  “You didn’t show me how to fill in paperwork,” she pointed out.

  “I didn’t think you were going to make a sale,” he snapped. As if that were her fault! “And I would’ve expected you to come and ask me questions if you didn’t know how to fill out the paperwork.”

  “You were dealing with the plumbers. I didn’t think it was that hard…”

  “You have the delivery date too soon,” he moaned. “Now we have to honor it, and I’m going to have to pay extra. This is rush delivery, but you didn’t incorporate it into the price.”

  She bit her lip. Okay, that was a problem. “Um… I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  “No, you won’t,” he said, and he had it. The Look. She was very familiar with The Look.

  “I’m fired, aren’t I?”

  He sighed. “Technically, we never filled out paperwork, so you weren’t even hired,” he answered. “But… I’m sorry, but you’re just not going to work out, you know?”

  That seemed unfair, but to be honest, she wasn’t really looking forward to working with Leonard anyway. He didn’t seem to have the same fixations or irritations that, say, Mr. P. had—he hadn’t commented on her looks once, which was refreshing—but he did seem awfully grumpy, and she got the feeling he wouldn’t approve of how much time off she’d need.

  “Well, can I get paid for today?”

  He blinked at her. “You weren’t hired,” he repeated.

  What would Taneesha do?

  Taneesha would not take this lying down. No pun intended.

  “I worked here a whole day. I sold a bed,” she insisted. “Even with the rush delivery, that makes you guys money.”

  “I didn’t fill out any paperwork,” he said with a wince. “And I’m not going to get you a paycheck for a couple of hours.”

  Again, like that was her fault. She tried to channel her inner Michelle this time. Like he was a subordinate, and she was putting him in his place.

  He stared at her.

  She stared back.

  Finally, he sighed. “I have maybe forty in petty cash and sixty on me,” he said, pulling out his wallet.

  She smiled, feeling triumphant. “That’ll do fine.”

  ADITI

  A hurried knock at Aditi’s home-office door made her look up from the Facebook timeline on her screen. “Writing
,” she called out in an irritated tone.

  Her morning had started on a sour-ass note and her afternoon wasn’t looking any better. She’d been doing her best to churn out blog posts like a machine on a daily basis until she went through the entire list Pam had sent. This week she’d managed to eke out a decent post each day, but how many times would she have to answer, “What’s your writing process?” or “Do you have a ritual?” or “Where do you get your ideas?”

  If Michelle crawled up her ass one more time, the next blog would be “The Art of Being Here So You Don’t Get Fined.” Her shoulders inched up just at the thought.

  Another knock. Intending to ignore Druv’s interruption, she minimized the browser and re-opened Word.

  The knock came again.

  “I’m still writing.” When she’d first confessed that she wanted to write full-time, Druv had asked her a series of questions, voicing many concerns that she shared, too. But when she explained all that was at stake, he understood. When she showed him the advance check Faraday had coughed up a few months later, he’d relented the last of his reservations.

  “It’s Thursday.”

  She slammed back in her chair. It let out a squeal of protest at the movement. Then his words sank in. Shock from the intrusion transformed into horror. “Shit. I haven’t prepared a single thing.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How long do I have?”

  “Maybe ten minutes if they didn’t make any stops along the way.”

  That propelled Aditi out of the chair. Druv flattened all six feet of his muscular frame against the office door as she ran past him toward their shared room. “Turn on the oven!” she called out.

  “There’s still leftovers, you know,” he said as he followed at a slower pace behind her. “And you know Mom will have brought dessert.”

  “That leaves about five million things I still have to heat up or make from scratch.”

  “She’ll help you.”

  Her life was summed up in the short statement. The only downside to her married life was having to find time to entertain not just one set of parents—or, hell, family—but two. It had been easier to slate family time when all they’d had to do was head down the street. It was another thing when their parents and family lived on the other side of town. Madison, Wisconsin, wasn’t New York, but with Druv working insane hours at the firm, and her endless deadlines, those few miles felt like they separated entire worlds. On top of that, her parents were social butterflies, and his parents were equally committed to family and politics.

  Either way, his family descended on their home every Thursday. She actually had to look like a human being, i.e. no yoga pants and ratty T-shirt at least once a week.

  Aditi flew into the main bedroom and headed straight for the walk-in closet. Digging into her side of the racks, she pulled out the first respectable dress that caught her eye. It was black and red with big red roses covering it. But it was clean and didn’t have a revealing neckline.

  Druv remained inside the door as she stripped down to her underwear. She wrestled the dress over her head.

  Slipping it on, she shuffled over to the mirror to finger-comb her dark strands. She needed a cut, or at least a trim, for her waist-length hair. Something to worry about later. Now she needed to do a quick braid.

  “I know,” she said to her husband. “She’ll help. She’ll bring food. I should have remembered. I just… it’s a thing.”

  “Inexpiable writer anxiety over things that don’t really matter. Got it.”

  She chuckled at his recitation. They had had this conversation more than once. “It’s like how if you don’t answer your phone, I assume you’re dead.”

  “Exactly. When it’s likely I’m in a meeting.”

  “Or with a beau.”

  He winced and shoved his hands in his pockets. The white shirt had a crease line across the middle and still smelled fresh from the laundry. “Don’t call anyone that. Ever again. And just know, one day in the future I’m going to need you to be hip.”

  “Only if you can find my black cardigan. I think I threw it somewhere over there.” She waved her elbow in the direction she meant as she tied off the end of the braid with a rubber band.

  “In the closet?”

  She threw him a grin. “Yup.”

  He rolled his eyes. “The things I put up with for love.”

  It took him two seconds to find the cardigan. Aditi threw it on and tried to bring the edges close together.

  Druv glanced down at her cleavage. “It’s not too much titty.”

  In the scheme of things, likely not, but only turtlenecks fully covered her ample bosom. “By definition there is.”

  Both of their phones rang loudly. His in his pocket and hers in the office.

  “That’s them,” she said. Aditi pulled the dress up an inch and frowned.

  He gave her a long stare. “Breathe. You look beautiful and whatever you make will taste delicious.”

  “Leftovers taste better the next day anyway.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  They air kissed, then he went to answer the door.

  Aditi smoothed the soft material over her stomach and followed Druv a minute later. A twinge of guilt hit her right in the heart when her father-in-law Jayan smiled at the sight of her and her mother-in-law Madhu rose from the couch.

  Aditi’s hand fluttered up to her chest, but she returned the warm smile. “Mom, Dad. Welcome. Welcome.”

  Madhu picked up the container sitting on the coffee table. “I brought some puri and the tea you like. Oh and some Parle-G.”

  The nerves in her stomach settled. Of course, Druv was right. She always suffered from a short stint of social anxiety. Everything would be fine.

  Aditi turned her attention to Jayan. It seemed that every time she saw him, more gray hairs had grown in his mustache and along his hairline. With father and son practically standing side by side, the resemblance struck a deep chord. Druv had yet to grow a doughy middle, but if genetics told the story, the muscles would give way. He wouldn’t lose an inch of height and his honey-toned skin would grow darker.

  “Dad,” she said, warmth spilling into her at his smile.

  The older man glanced from Druv to her. “Aditi.” The smile broadened. “You look well.”

  “I am, at the moment. Still taking over the city one business deal at a time?” she asked Jayan.

  Her father-in-law gave her a slight nod. “Slowly but surely.”

  He was modest but ambitious. A quality he shared with his son. So it shouldn’t have surprised her when he added, “About that…”

  Jayan craned his neck to meet his son’s gaze. “I heard you took on Cybernet as a client.”

  “Didn’t you have dealings with them?” Druv replied.

  “They left for another company before they went public.”

  And that was when that conversation got brain-melting. Father and son always went down that road, so Aditi focused on Madhu. “Can I bribe you into making atta ka sheera? I’ve had cravings. It’s my comfort food.”

  “Is it—?”

  “Stress,” she quickly answered to head off any talk of pregnancy. Her in-laws and parents didn’t fall into the stereotype of always pressuring, but man were they hopeful after five-plus years. “Kitchen. All will be revealed as we cook.”

  “You think I don’t know you’re trying to distract me.”

  Aditi offered to carry the container of food. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Madhu just laughed and followed her to the kitchen. Aditi offered Madhu an apron hanging from the railing on the stove door. After she donned hers, her mother-in-law pulled open the container filled with puri.

  “Smell it. It’s fresh, and I won’t tell anyone we ate some.”

  Aditi joined in the secret laughter and took one. “I promise I won’t. And fair warning, Druv’s going to complain about the ghee we put in anything.”

  “What has he been using?”

  “Ext
ra virgin olive oil.” Aditi laughed at Madhu’s immediate reaction of scrunching up her nose. She was a purist when it came to recipes handed down through the generations. “You’re such a stickler for the tradition. I promise it’s not bad, and he doesn’t do a blanket substitution. You simply can’t for some things.”

  She made a pfft noise and rested a hand on her hip. “Now tell me about this stress in your life. It’s not Druv, is it?”

  “No. No,” Aditi said. “He’s always a support. It’s work.”

  Madhu ate with one hand and prepped the tea with her free hand. “I thought the book was done and out.”

  Following suit, Aditi pulled down the tea set she used for family occasions. The cups were plain black but sturdy as hell. She lined them up on the tray and waited for the water to boil. “The book will be out in a few months.”

  “Why is it taking so long?”

  Aditi laughed. “Because the movies lie. Rarely do you submit in the summer and end up published by fall. And on the bestseller list.”

  “Hold that thought. Let me get the tea and puri set out for them. Then I’m all yours.”

  Aditi took that moment to make two cups of tea. She had to shake her head at herself. How often did she get riled up over little things? Maybe it’s because a part of your life is a lie. She leaned against the counter and sipped her tea. Could it be that simple? Her and Druv’s parents were kind, smart, and loving, and they lied to them about their marriage at each family occasion.

  “Tell me everything.”

  Aditi blinked and brought Madhu into focus. “Did they want something else to hold them over?”

  “They’re fine. Stop stalling.”

  She laughed before handing Madhu her cup of tea. “I knew publishing my book would take a lot. I’m not afraid of the hard work. I just imagined I would be… more excited about everything. Big blogs want me to write posts for them.”

  Her mother-in-law only blinked at her. Aditi added, “A blog post is like a newspaper article, except it’s online.”

  “Oh. Like a journalist.”

  “More like an op-ed piece.”

  Madhu seemed to mull that over before asking, “And it’s not… what?”

  Aditi put down her cup to get started on warming up the leftovers. “Everything is starting to feel passionless. I’m going through the motions. I think I’m just overwhelmed. It’s all happening at once, all the time.”