Tender is the Nerd

T
ENDER IS
THE NERD © 2016 Vicki Lewis Thompson

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Ocean Dance Press, LLC, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737

V
isit
the author’s website at www.VickiLewisThompson.com

A
fter a frustrating week
, Miranda Travers was ready for a glass of wine and a serving of her very own pasta primavera, although she’d have to do a little grocery shopping first. Hoisting her tote bag over her shoulder, she walked from her office into the silent hallway. Everyone at BMUS – which stood for Beam Me Up Scotty and was pronounced
beam us
– had left for the weekend. Or so she thought until she noticed the light shining from under Rylan Krause’s office door.

Apparently he was staying late to work on the veggie app and didn’t want company. BMUS was preparing to roll out its first product, an app with massive nutritional info on fruits and vegetables. Market testing had been promising. The app would be a boon to the newly health conscious population and should be a moneymaker. Investors were counting on it.

She’d been hired as a nutrition consultant and her data plus Rylan’s software should produce a wonderful product that would spotlight BMUS as a tech startup to watch. But Rylan was blocked and she didn’t know anything about the coding process so she was no help.

The other three guys in the office, all tech geeks in their own right, had offered suggestions that sounded good to Miranda but hadn’t worked for Rylan. His brother Frazer, the team’s hardware expert, had finally advised leaving Rylan alone to figure it out for himself. CEO Tony Bainbridge, who’d sunk his entire trust fund into the company, had agreed with that strategy. So had Garrett Upton, in charge of cyber security. The four had been friends at Caltech and knew each other’s quirks, but waiting for a breakthrough had to be tough. The future of the company depended on the app’s success.

Miranda thought the pressure was part of Rylan’s problem. She knew him fairly well, too, because she’d dated his brother in college. She broken up with Frazer after about six months and hadn’t been terribly surprised when he’d calmly accepted her decision. His controlled behavior had been a big reason she’d ended things.

They’d remained casual friends, which had led to him recommending her for this consulting job. But while Frazer wasn’t a very emotional guy, Rylan definitely was. He would be affected by knowing he was now the key player in this game.

Although she couldn’t help him write code, she tried to suggest things that might lower his stress, like substituting classical music for the hard rock he listened to. He’d laughed and then politely ignored her suggestion. Her gift certificate for a massage had gone unused. His diet was atrocious, but his high metabolism kept him from getting fat so he shrugged off her concerns about that, too.

Like the rest of them, she’d decided to give up and let him soldier on by himself. Yet she felt a pang of sympathy as she gazed at that closed door. She’d tap on it and say goodnight except he probably had his ear buds in and wouldn’t hear her.

So she continued on down the hall. She was almost through the outer office door when she heard the sharp tinkle of glass shattering. The sound came from Rylan’s office and she imagined all kinds of horrible things including that he’d passed out from exhaustion and had crashed into something as he fell.

Throwing down her tote, she grabbed the emergency first aid kit their receptionist, Dulcie Hilgendorf, kept in her desk. The sound of Rylan swearing a blue streak was encouraging. At least he was conscious. She flung open the door and found him kneeling on the carpet.

“Miranda!” He leaped to his feet. His beard had grown in the past few days because shaving was optional when he was struggling with a concept.

And he was definitely struggling. His short dark hair stood out in all directions and his glasses were smudged. A plaid flannel shirt hung tails out and unbuttoned over his white t-shirt and jeans. The t-shirt was snug enough to emphasize his nice pecs, although she had no idea why he’d have them. She’d never known him to exercise.

He glanced at the first aid kit in her hand. “Are you . . . okay?”

“I’m fine.” Poor guy probably thought she’d gone whacko busting in on him like that. “Are you? I heard glass break.”

“Oh.” He looked embarrassed. “I threw a glass at the wall.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “Still had some soda in it.”

She glanced at the spot where he’d been kneeling and sure enough, a smear of liquid darkened the wall and chunks of glass littered the carpet. “Wow. I guess you are upset.”

“Yeah.” He blew out a breath and crouched to pick up more glass and drop it in the wastebasket.

She’d never thought of him as being particularly strong but he must have a good arm if he could throw a glass hard enough to smash it against the wall. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“There isn’t. This is my job, my responsibility, the reason Tony asked me to be part of BMUS. But I can’t come up with the right feel.” The glass clinked into the metal wastebasket. “That app needs to be awesome. It needs to sing and dance. Right now it just lies there in a soggy heap of data.”

“My data.” Professional pride kicked in.

“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “But I have to say, nothing on the planet is more boring than a pile of green beans. Oh, wait. Parsnips are worse. They’re the color of puke.”

“They are not!” Miranda leaped to defend one of her favorite vegetables. “Parsnips are the color of rich cream, the pearlescent color of the sky right before the sun comes up, the –”

He glanced up at her. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No! I love parsnips! They’re a subtle version of turnips.”

Rylan made a face. “Exactly. I
hate
turnips. They showed up at every blessed Thanksgiving dinner. They make me gag.”

She forced herself not to respond to that heresy by telling herself maybe he’d never had turnips prepared correctly. Now that she thought about it, Frazer hadn’t been keen on veggies, either. Whenever she’d had dinner with his parents they’d always suggested going to a restaurant. Maybe the brothers’ astrophysicist mom and electrical engineer dad hadn’t been into cooking.

Glancing around the office she noted the remnants of whatever Rylan had been eating while he worked. Although she’d noticed the bags of chips and the pizza boxes before, she’d never made the connection. But tonight she finally got what should have been blindingly obvious. He couldn’t get excited about a nutritious fruit and vegetable app because he preferred a diet that didn’t include those things.

Intellectually he might understand that the app was a great concept, but emotionally he didn’t get it. She might not know the first thing about writing code, but she knew fresh produce inside and out. If she could get Rylan excited about it, he might be inspired to create the app they all hoped for.

But first she needed to help him pick up the mess he’d made when he’d thrown the glass. The office had a cleaning service, but they couldn’t be expected to deal with broken glass. She dropped to her knees beside him, carefully plucked a jagged piece from the carpet and put it in the wastebasket.

“That’s okay, Miranda.” He laid a restraining hand on her arm. “You don’t have to help me.”

She met his gaze. “I don’t mind.” She'd always liked the soft brown color of his eyes.

“Well, I do mind. I’m the one who created this situation so let me take care of it.” He smiled and moved his hand. “Get outta here, Travers.”

Funny, but she missed the warmth of his hand. “I have an idea I’d like to talk to you about.”

“It can wait. It’s Friday night, for God’s sake. You probably have a date.”

“As it happens I don’t.” But she found it interesting that he’d made the comment. Such statements were usually part of a fishing expedition. “Do you?”

He gave her a wry grin. “Yeah, with a hot keyboard.”

“I have a better idea.”

“Look, I appreciate your concern but I have to stay here. I’m determined to have something I can show the guys by Monday morning.”

“Forgive me for saying this, but holing up by yourself doesn’t seem to be working.”

His jaw tightened. “It will.”

“Maybe, but I think you’d be better off if you leave the office for a while and get a different perspective.”

A spark of curiosity flared in his eyes. “By doing what?”

“Going grocery shopping with me.”

The spark died. “Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“But –”

“On my list of necessary but unpleasant activities, grocery shopping ranks right up there with changing a flat on a busy freeway.”

“But you’ve never gone grocery shopping with me.”

“Let’s just keep it that way, shall we? Our friendship will be better for it.”

She’d figured he’d be a challenge but he was way more stubborn than she’d anticipated. “What if I throw in dinner? First we’ll shop and then I’ll cook.”

“Oh, I see where this is going. You’re gonna cook up a mess of veggies, probably some parsnips and turnips. Then you’ll show me how yummy they can be. Am I right?”

“Yes.” She’d never realized he had long lashes. And a sensual mouth, although anyone who dared to kiss him would pay the price in massive whisker burn. Or maybe not. His beard had grown enough that it could be silky.

“You’d be wasting your time and mine.”

She pulled her thoughts away from kissing and back to the topic at hand. “That’s entirely possible. But I think the reason you’re not inspired to create a great app is that you don’t like the subject matter.”

“I’m a professional. The subject matter is irrelevant.”

“Let’s say that’s true and you’ll have a breakthrough this weekend. You have to eat sometime.”

“I’ll order pizza like I always do.” His eyes twinkled. “Pepperoni.”

She swallowed a groan of frustration. “How about this? I promise not to fix either parsnips or turnips and you can bring a laptop along so you can work on the app while I’m cooking. Think of it as an experiment, one that will only take a couple of hours. If it turns out to make no difference to your process, you’ll still have the rest of the weekend to yourself.”

“Do I have to go grocery shopping?”

“Yes. That’s part of the experiment.”

“Okay, I’ll do it, but only to prove to you that my feelings about veggies have nothing to do with whether I can build a great app.”

Somehow she managed to accept her victory graciously instead of grinning in triumph. “You may be right.”

She didn’t think so for a minute, but then he had no idea how skilled she was in the kitchen. Even Frazer didn’t know. She used to be a good cook but now she was an amazing one. Rylan would gobble up her food and beg for more. Hmm. She liked that image.

Once they’d agreed on the plan it didn’t take them long to pick up the rest of the glass. They separated long enough to wash the stickiness from their hands before riding the elevator to the parking garage. Rather than take two cars into Friday night traffic, she offered to drive and then bring him back after dinner.

Rylan followed her suggestion and brought his laptop. He stashed the case at his feet before glancing over at her. “Even if this is all for nothing, I appreciate the effort you’re making.”

“Thanks.” She flashed him a smile before backing out of the parking spot. “It’s been hard watching you and knowing there wasn’t anything I could do to help except give you data.”

“It’s good data. I’m sorry about that crummy remark I made about it. I’m usually not this grouchy.”

“I know. I’ve seen you plenty of times when you weren’t grouchy. Like the time we all went to ComicCon and you got to meet Leonard Nimoy. You were the happiest guy in the world.”

“That was a great day. You wore a yellow sundress.”

“Yep. Bright yellow. I stood out like a giant lemon drop in the pictures.” She was surprised he remembered the dress, though.

“Do you still have it?”

“No. I spilled red wine on it one night and couldn’t get the stain completely out. Gave it to Goodwill.”

“Too bad. It looked good on you.”

“Thanks.” What a curious conversation. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was a little bit into her. It wasn’t unheard of – having a crush on your older brother’s girl. But Rylan would have been too loyal to ever let on.

He probably still wouldn’t consider asking her out, especially when all three of them worked in the same building and would until the app was finished. Like any good freelancer she had other jobs scheduled after this one wrapped, but for now BMUS was her main focus.

That would change when the app was released. She’d miss the camaraderie of the team and she’d especially miss Rylan. Was she a little bit into him? Could be. She’d always liked him. They were the same age whereas Frazer was a year older. In many ways he was a
lot
older.

As she remembered the dynamic when she’d hung around with both brothers, she and Rylan had been the mischief-makers and Frazer had been the voice of reason. At the time she’d found Frazer’s cool demeanor sexy but eventually it had begun to get on her nerves.

She pulled into the parking lot of her favorite grocery store, one that specialized in organics and displayed the produce with what she considered sensuous detail. Rich colors complemented each other and automatic misters made certain the items always gleamed with seductive moisture. Prices were a little higher here, but she loved the shopping experience so much she didn’t mind.

“I have an idea.” Rylan picked up his laptop case. “I’ll stay here and wait for you. I’ll guard the car and my laptop.”

“Nice try. Have you ever been here?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“I didn’t think so. Grocery shopping is part of the experiment. If you’re worried about the safety of your laptop, bring it in.”

“I’m not worried about the laptop. That was a big fat excuse to get out of shopping.”

“I know.”

He sighed. “Have I mentioned you’re a pain in the ass?”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“No, I won’t, but if we really have to do this let’s get it over with.”

She began to wonder if even the glorious displays in her favorite store would be enough to make an impression on him. He might have been fed canned, overcooked and processed food for so long that his prejudices were firmly entrenched. But she’d made it this far, so she might as well carry on and hope that he wasn’t as rigid as he sounded.