Bebe
The Research and Development division at Jameson Force Security is sort of what I’d envisioned for my career back when I was an undergraduate at MIT and before I got lured to the dark forces of black-hat hacking. To work in a lab with the smartest minds, developing the most miraculous of inventions, and watching them be used for the forces of good.
Yes, I am in my dream career right now. Just as I often don’t believe I’m fortunate enough to have my son back, I often wonder how I got to be so lucky to land this.
Currently, I’m working on an artificial intelligence module that can help guide and predict outcomes based on patterns we put in. We’re tweaking the speech synthesis, so our AI—who we’ve weirdly named Bob—can recognize unlabeled words and phrases, as well as categorize them. Bob, therefore, can listen in on our meetings as we plan and develop missions, make hypotheses, and render opinions on outcomes.
Of course, it’s still in the early days and we’d never trust Bob in making any decisions, but we’ve been testing his theories against our own. So far, he’s a pretty smart dude.
The motion-sensored sliding glass door swishes open, and Dozer walks through. When I said I envisioned working with the brightest, Dozer fits that description. He has an IQ of 170, and Kynan stole him from NASA. Dozer is one of those types who knows something about everything. Lately, I’ve been referring to him as Tony Stark, but, frankly, he’s far better looking than the guy behind the Iron Man mask.
I’d think a former NASA scientist would be sporting pocket protectors and thick-rimmed glasses, but Dozer looks like a cross between a flashy sports celebrity and fashion runway model. He’s got sharp cheekbones, exotically tilted eyes, a perfectly proportioned nose and lips, and the body of a Greek god.
The smart hottie has something in his hand that makes him infinitely more attractive. He walks over to my desk—which is more of an elevated worktable—and hands me a Starbucks venti salted-caramel mocha.
I release an exaggerated moan as I take the cup. “You are a god.”
“Yes, this I know,” he says, flashing me a brilliant grin that sparkles in contrast to his midnight skin.
There was a time when Dozer and I shared a kiss.
It was a drunk kiss one night after the whole team had gone out. We’d had way too much to drink, and he was new to the team and lonely, I think.
I was lonely as hell, too, not having had any male companionship in years.
Unfortunately, drunk kissing is the worst kind because the reasons behind it aren’t clear. Was it true attraction?
For me, it was attraction. I mean… the man is as close to an Adonis as possible.
Or was the alcohol the real troublemaker, removing inhibitions that might have a damn good reason for being there? I mean, workplace romances are never a good thing.
Ultimately, it was bad timing.
Turns out, I was lonely, but I wasn’t ready to let the solitude go. I wasn’t ready to open myself up. Dozer said a similar thing to me the next morning at work when we awkwardly laughed about it. He had merely said he’d been through a tough breakup and just wasn’t ready for anything.
Since then, our friendship has continued to grow and flourish. He’s the closest thing I have to a best friend in my life.
“Have you started exporting yesterday’s tags?” Dozer asks as he moves over to his computer. He also has a standing worktable adjacent to mine with the same three flat screens I have so we can monitor multiple sources of information.
“It’s downloading now,” I say before taking a delightful sip of my coffee.
“Hey,” he says as he turns to face me. “Can I ask you for a personal favor?”
“Sure,” I reply easily, holding up the coffee cup in a silent toast.
“Think I can leave Brutus with you next weekend? I’m going out of town.”
Brutus is Dozer’s tiny little Yorkie dog that Aaron and I have dog sat on occasion.
“No problem,” I say. That’s not even a favor, and I can’t help but tease. “Got a hot date?”
“Actually, yeah,” he replies with a cheesy smile before turning back to his computer screens.
This is not unusual. Dozer dates lots of women, and I asked him about it once following our kiss that went nowhere, especially since he had told me he wasn’t ready for anything.
“These are hookups, Bebe,” he’d told me. “Nothing serious. What you and I could have had… that would have been serious, and I’m not ready for serious.”
So Dozer has become one of the resident playboy studs of Jameson. He and Cage should start a tally competition to see who can bang the most women.
I’m not sure why thinking of Dozer’s noncommitment type of love life prompts me to say something, but I end up blurting out, “I had a date last night.”
Dozer freezes and slowly pivots to face me, his mouth hanging open. It’s no secret I’ve been averse to dating. Everyone under God’s green earth has tried to set me up on dates over these last few months at Jameson, and I shot them all down.
“I met him in the park,” I continue, feeling the need to have Dozer like Griff. “He played football with Aaron. He’s blue-collar. Like salt-of-the-earth kind of guy, you know? And he took us to the Steelers game on Sunday, and well… I had dinner with him last night.”
Dozer’s mouth sags even further, then he drawls exaggeratedly, “Ho-l-y-y-y-y sh-i-i-i-i-t.”
He moves over to me, presses an arm onto my worktable, and leans closer. “This is epic. Tell me everything.”
I don’t want this to be epic. Epic scares me so I start to backpedal some. “I mean… he’s not that great. Nice guy, sure. But I’m not looking for anything—”
Dozer’s hand comes out and covers my mouth, stopping me in mid-backpedal. He shakes his head, giving me a chastising smile. “No… tell me everything. Don’t waste time with excuses about why this is a bad idea, but tell me all the good stuff.”
I blink and he stares back, conveying a threat within his gaze… if I don’t give him what he wants, he’s going to put his hand back over my mouth. I know how stubborn Dozer can be. He’ll hound me relentlessly until I divulge all.
When I sigh, he takes that as my capitulation and removes his hand.
“His name is Griffin Stoltz. And he’s from upstate New York, recently relocated here to the area. He works for the power company, and he’s great with Aaron. Doesn’t seem freaked out I have a ten-year-old kid. And well…”
I think about Griff and how amazing he looked last night at dinner. We’d met at a small Italian restaurant for dinner. He had on a pair of dark jeans and a button-up shirt that fit him well. His hair wasn’t pulled back, but he’d left it loose and wavy down to his shoulders. With his shirtsleeves rolled up to mid-forearm, showcasing tattoos and muscles, there’s no getting past the fact I’m incredibly attracted to him. My body and mind have not reacted to a male like this in years, and it sort of wigs me out.
“Where’d you go?” Dozer asks, snapping his fingers in front of my face. When I shake myself out of it, I find him grinning. “You got a real dreamy expression on your face just now. Remembering the hot after-date sex you had with him?”
My hand automatically flies out to slap him in the chest. “God, no. I just met the guy.”
“So?”
I roll my eyes. “So, I’m not the type to just jump into bed with someone.”
“Well, you should be,” Dozer asserts with a wink. “I mean… as long as you’re safe about it, why not? It’s the twenty-first-fucking-century, Bebe. Everyone has sex and hookups.”
Is this true? Have I missed a new sexual revolution, or perhaps it was already there but I was too busy to notice?
I mean… I have a good gut feeling about Griff. He seems down to earth and easygoing. I ran a background check on him after I acquired his last name at the football game, and he’s got nothing more nefarious on his record than a parking ticket.
Our dinner didn’t last long since I had to be up early this morning to make it in to work for a meeting with Kynan. The hour we’d spent together dining on shared plates of gnocchi and bruschetta was spent mostly talking about the things we both liked and had in common.
That would be seventies’ classic rock, the Sopranos, and hiking. I’d spent a good chunk of the summer hiking local trails with Aaron, and I shared those spots with Griff as he meticulously typed them into the Notes app on his phone.
Toward the end of dinner, I was glad it was ending, if only for the fact I knew we’d venture into more personal information before too long, which meant I was going to have to lie to Griff. I wasn’t about to tell him I’d spent the last seven years in prison because I didn’t want to scare him off. My hope was I could skirt that little tidbit with some redirection and deflection, but the bottom line is… I like him well enough to risk that awkwardness to see where this goes.
I simply can’t ignore the fact that he’s the first man to even spark my interest in more than a decade.
As Griff walked me to my car, he asked me out again. More specifically, tonight, and I accepted. He’d leaned in and my breath caught in my chest, thinking he was going to kiss me, but all he did was brush his lips against my cheek before murmuring, “I had a really nice time, Bebe. Looking forward to tomorrow night.”
“Bebe,” Dozer chides with a low chuckle. “Lost you again.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, swiveling toward my workstation. “Was just thinking about the date last night.”
He returns to his desk, but he feels compelled to remind me, “That didn’t end in hot sex.”
“Nor will it,” I say primly.
“Prude.”
“I am so not a prude,” I insist, spinning toward him. “It’s just… isn’t sex only supposed to come after like date five or something?”
Dozer snickers, turning to fully face me again. “Bebe… I love you dearly, but you need to jump back into life with both feet. You’ve missed out on so much, and now you’re just hiding. But you’ve taken a step forward by going out with this guy. Now, I’m going to give you some important advice.”
Leaning toward him, I listen with keen ears. I trust him implicitly, so I’m going to listen.
Dozer takes a step toward me, then puts his hands on my shoulders. He ducks his head so he can stare me in the eyes. “You sacrificed your life to protect those you love and your country. You paid a price. Now you need to get your ass out there and live life to the fullest. If you want to wait until date five to have sex, you do that. But if you want to bang his brains out before your second date even starts, you do that, too. Both are the right answers. In other words, you do what makes you happy.”
Could it really be that simple?
That I should stop worrying so much about appearances and norms, and just do what makes me happy? My gaze drops to the floor as I ponder this, but then pops up to lock with Dozer’s. “But I’m scared. I mean, what if this doesn’t go anywhere? How do I even begin to explain my past to him? How do I build something with someone when I don’t even know if my past is going to catch up with me in a really horrible way?”
“All legit worries,” he replies softly, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “But you can’t let them hold you back. As for how much you share with this guy, I’m going to tell you to trust your gut. One thing I’ve learned about you over the last several months is that you have a great gut instinct. Don’t share if it doesn’t feel right. If it does feel right, know it’s a risk to divulge this and be prepared for the worst. I mean… what’s the worst that can happen? That he decides he doesn’t want to see you anymore?”
I nod glumly. That would suck. I’ve often regretted my poor choices, but never once had those regrets been focused on me. I’ve always been worried about how everything affected Aaron or my mom. Now I see there’s a longer-reaching impact. My crimes are always going to follow me.
“Then may I suggest,” Dozer advises with dramatic flourish. “That you fuck him first before you tell him so you can at least have a little fun before he dumps your ass.”
I can’t stop the hoarse bark of laughter, and I let it lead me right into a quick hug. Dozer holds me tight for a second, gives me a squeeze, then releases me.
I have no clue what’s going to happen tonight, but Dozer’s advice has opened up a hell of a lot more possibilities for me.