Level Up (18 page)

He got the feeling whatever was going on between them, it wasn't a mistake.

He snuggled against her, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the softness of her skin. He let out a little sigh, more a soft exhalation than anything.

It was enough. She woke, contorting, obviously startled. Then she twisted.

He held his breath. "Morning," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "How're you feeling?"

She blinked slowly a few times. "Limber."

He let out a surprised bark of laughter. "You are limber," he said, stroking a wayward lock of hair away from her face. "Anything else?"

"Well, I need to go to the bathroom," she admitted.

"Oh! Right. Right."

She pulled off the blanket, then gasped. "Cold cold COLD!" she yelled, then swore.

"I know," he said, chuckling. "Makes you not want to get out of bed."

Of course, in his case, that wasn't the only reason.

"All right. We need to be grownups," he said finally. "You go handle your business, then I'll get cleaned up and get changed, and we'll...erm, head in to work."

"Are you going to build up the fire?"

"No point if we're not going to be here," he pointed out.

"Right." She quickly pulled her sweats and shirt back on, tugging on her jacket. "Ready? Go!"

She went upstairs, and he headed to the downstairs bath, brushing his teeth and throwing on some clean clothes he'd brought downstairs.

She'd mentioned it. Well, not specifically, but she'd admitted that they actually did something. So that was a start.

Of course, she was acting like it wasn't a big deal. Maybe because she thought it wasn't.

He wasn't normally this insecure before seven o'damned clock in the morning, he realized. He also realized it was freezing.

He groaned, then sprinted back into the living room, which felt a little warmer. His phone rang. Glancing at the display, he saw it was Jen, the producer from Mysterious Pickles.

"Hello?"

"Do you guys have power?"

"Nope. Still out."

"That windstorm was nuts," she said. "We're closing the office. Almost all of Issaquah is out of power, too. You guys have the day off."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Stay warm."

He hung up, looking at the phone.

Tessa popped back in, wearing jeans and a cherry-red sweatshirt, tugging her jacket back on. "Oh my jeez, it's cold!" she yelped. "Man, I hope the heater's on at work."

"Um, about that," he said, looking at her speculatively. "Jen just called. Issaquah's power is out, too. They said we can just stay home."

"Oh." She blinked.

He turned to the fireplace and poked at the coals, adding wood and kindling. Soon enough, it was roaring again.

Just ask her, he said. Ask her if they were going anywhere. Or how she was feeling. Or should he just forget about it?

Like hell he was going to forget about it.

He turned, determined.

Only to find her naked, under the mountain of blankets.

"It's still warm in here," she said, her voice purring with delight. Her brown eyes were warm--and her smirk was inviting.

He didn't even blink. He stripped down and dove in after her, immersing himself in her delighted giggling.

"No TV, no tablets, no work," she said, biting his neck. "Whatever shall we do to pass the time?"

He rolled on a condom and rolled her onto her back, entering her with one slow, delicious glide.

"I've always liked canasta," he said, then kissed her hard as she laughed breathlessly.

CHAPTER 10

Tessa walked into the building with Adam the next day. They'd enjoyed their day off thoroughly, staying in the sofa bed pretty much all day--even after the power came back on at noon. They'd spent the night in Adam's bed, which was admittedly much more comfortable. And bigger.

She didn't know what it meant, if it meant anything. She would probably Skype Ani and ask her what she thought...or maybe talk to the girls at the bookstore, now that she had girl friends to ask.

It was probably stupid, she told herself. She'd had very good reasons for not sleeping with him. They were roommates. They worked together. If it didn't work, things would undoubtedly get very, very messy.

But what if it did work out?

But for now, she was enjoying it. She wasn't used to thinking positive about anything but her career. This might be a good change.

"Back to the grind," Adam said. The words sounded innocent, but the look in his eyes was anything but. She could feel her cheeks heating with a blush, but she couldn't help smiling back, even as her body tingled.

He started to lean toward her when Fezza stepped up, greeting them with a friendly wave. "Hey!" Then he stopped in his tracks, looking at them suspiciously. "Hey..."

"Hey, what?" Tessa said, clearing her throat and nudging Adam a step away.

Fezza said, still narrowing his eyes at them. "Did you two get lucky or something?"

"Or something," Adam said, shoving him and falling into step next to Tessa.

"Both of you? Really?" Fezza laughed. "What are the odds?"

"Shut up," Adam said.

"Seriously. How did you two find people on the same night?" Fezza complained.

"Shut
up
," Adam repeated, even as Tessa started giggling wildly.

"Everybody got action last night except me, I swear," Fezza complained. "I mean, there wasn't even power! How did you manage to...ohhh," he said, as the light apparently went on. "No. Way."

Adam groaned. Tessa just kept laughing.

"Have lunch with me later?" Adam asked, before heading toward his office.

"You got it," she said, and winked at him. If last night was any indication, there'd be dinner, too.

And dessert, she thought wickedly. Definitely dessert.

She was smiling when her office phone rang. She picked it up, thinking perhaps it was Stacy checking in on her. "Hello?"

"Is this Teresa Rodriguez?" a man asked politely.

She blinked. "Tessa, yes," she said. Nobody called her Teresa except her abuela and her mother.

"This is Richard Merced, over at Impresario."

Damn it. Really? "I got the cease and desist," she said, her words frosty. "And believe me, I've both ceased and desisted. The game was disqualified, although I'm still not quite sure why, so I can't do anything with the game, even if I wanted to."

He cleared his throat. "Yes. About that. I'm sitting here with Mike Powers at Impresario Games. Is it all right if I put you on speakerphone?"

Before she could agree, she heard the click over, and that echo-y sound that happened when people switched from a handset to a microphone in an office. "Hello! Teresa? This is Mike," she heard another man's voice say. "Mike Powers. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks." 
Who are you, and why am I on speakerphone talking with you?

"First, I want to apologize. It's my fault your entry was disqualified," he said, sounding not at all apologetic.

"But why?" she asked.

"Well...you see, we've got a
Mystics
 game coming out by summer," he said. "I didn't want people getting confused about your game and our game."

She rubbed her face. "It was just a little sample game for a contest. It would've been great publicity for
Mystics
. I don't see how that could be a problem."

"It's complicated," Richard interjected at that point. "You see, we were very, very impressed with your game."

Enough to disqualify us? Enough to screw over the bookstore?
 She felt her blood pressure rising. "No offense, but that doesn't really help me."

"We were impressed enough to contact you," Richard said gently. "In fact, we want to see what your take is on our game."

She sighed. The gall of...

"And perhaps see if you would like to discuss joining our team, and seeing if there's some way you can help us add that same level of devotion, detail, and quality to the game we've got coming out."

That derailed her thought immediately. "What do you mean? You want to incorporate elements from our game into yours?"

"I don't know that 'incorporate' is exactly the right..." Mike said, only to have Richard interrupt him.

"Yes, actually."

Now she felt her jaw drop. "It was just a simple game."

"But the game play was smooth, the characters were adorable for the low detail, and the fans that did get a glimpse of it all responded very favorably," Richard said. "The storyline was much closer to what we would have in mind, as well. Using an escape the room model with some action sequences, using the details that you did, and adding the powers that more closely mirrored the series itself, were all just what we're looking for."

She couldn't help it. She felt pride glow in her chest. "I knew it couldn't be something like a first-person shooter. That's just not the show."

"Exactly." There was a weird emphasis in the way Richard agreed with her, and she heard Mike Powers clear his throat.

"How long did it take you to develop this game?" Mike said. "I am assuming that you had the game built already, but then put the little cutesy
Mystics
 characters after. So how long did it take?"

"It took about two weeks," she said.

Another pause.

"Two weeks?" Mike barked.

"Start to finish."

"How many people?"

He was agitated and she couldn't quite figure out why. "I had a project guy, and then there were..." She counted them up mentally, "Six of us on the team. We had outside help on the drawings."

"A six person team got this done in two weeks," Richard repeated.

"It's only four levels," Mike said, sounding flustered.

"So what was it that you wanted from me?" she said, feeling a little triumphant. Maybe she could make them pay for the code, somehow. After disqualifying it, they certainly weren't getting it for free.

"Did you make the game engine?"

"I had one ready, but we wound up using Unity, just to speed things up."

"So you're flexible." Richard sounded pensive. "I'd like to pick your brain, and have you talk to some people over here in the game division."

"All right," she said. "I didn't know you guys had a games division over in Seattle."

"We don't," Richard said. "I'm talking about flying you down to San José."

San José? This surprised her more than anything that had gone before. They wanted to fly her down just to talk about the little game they'd built in two weeks?

"Um, all right," she said. "But--I mean, if you come up here, you could talk to all of us, the whole team."

"Was this game your idea?"

"Yes."

"The game play?"

"I worked with my roommate on it, but I'm a big fan of the show."

"And you were the one who planned the levels, I'm assuming?"

"Yes."

"Then we want to talk to you," Richard said decisively.

She had to admit--it was gratifying, being recognized.

"All right," she said. "When? We've got some games coming down the pipeline, so sooner would probably be better than later."

Now, there was a pause on the other end.

"You don't seem to understand," Richard said, and she heard the smile in his voice. "We're not asking for your input. We're offering you a job."

Adam was grinning to himself when Fezza cornered him in the break room.

"What the hell, man? Really? You and
Tessa
?" He nudged him, hard enough to slosh Coke out of the bottle onto his shirt. "How long has that been going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Adam said, retreating to his office. Fezza was hot on his heels.

"Don't even. I didn't even think she was into..." He made a vague gesture. ""I thought she was...I dunno. Asexual."

"You
did
attend the sexual harassment meeting, right?" Adam shook his head. "Or am I the only one who did that?"

Fezza rolled his eyes. "Shut up. You know what I mean. Anyway, I'm actually happy for you," Fezza said, looking a little less smug--and strangely, a little more sage. "You were really bummed after Casey left, that's all. It's good to see you happy."

Adam shot a side-eye glance at Fezza to see if he was messing with him, but Fezza actually looked sincere. "Thanks, Fez. I didn't realize I was that down."

"You were a mess. We were worried."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did. At New Year's," Fezza said.

"I mean before that."

"What am I, a girl?" Fezza rolled his eyes. "Speaking of--those bookstore girls seem pretty hot. Think you can hook me up?"

"Out," Adam said, then closed his door. He frowned. The bookstore--the game.

Tessa said the bookstore crew was cool with the contest disqualification, but he could see that Tessa herself wasn't. Even in the short time she'd met them, they had become her friends, a support network. Saving the bookstore and helping those sisters meant a lot to her.

He suddenly realized--it meant a lot to him, too. He didn't want that poor agoraphobic girl traumatized by moving after ten years. But most of all, he hated seeing Tessa disappointed.

What the store needed was promotion, Tessa had said. Marketing.
 Publicity.

As it happened, he did know someone who knew a lot about publicity.

He turned on his phone. Casey had tried calling him, twice. She was in town.

She was a journalist, and she'd done work as a publicist. She probably could help.

He sighed. It was weird territory, and he didn't know if it was uncool or not. But it wasn't like he was asking his ex to help his current girlfriend.

Although it could be.

He
wanted 
it to be, he realized.

First things first
, he told himself. Get the help...then see how Tessa felt about becoming his girlfriend.