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If Josh ever found a magic lamp, he was pretty sure he’d wish for an always-full mug of coffee.
On mornings like this, he’d make copious use of it.
He stifled a yawn and inched forward with the rest of the line in the espresso bar. After staying up until nearly three with Dylan, ensuring the corrupted contract literally had every i dotted and every T crossed, Josh needed something stronger than what the pot at home offered.
Dylan—lucky bastard—had the week off. So he was in the hotel room he’d reserved for the con, and was probably sleeping his day away. He and Josh had been roommates the beginning of law school. They’d both graduated since, but paying student loans on a junior lawyer salary meant splitting the rent still made sense.
As the queue crawled forward another person, Josh checked the time on his phone. The law firm where he and Dylan worked was a few floors up in this building, and Josh had plenty of time before he had to be up there, but he wanted to get to his desk before anyone else came in. He had research to do.
It didn’t matter that Josh’s last name was on the firm marquee—his grandfather founded the group, and his mother was one of the current senior partners—he wasn’t afforded any leeway.
Unlike the asshole partner who caused so much work for them last night, and would slide under the radar because he was fucking Josh’s mother.
“Next,” the girl at the register called.
He stepped forward with a smile. “Hey, Luci. Mocha Red Eye. As big as it gets.”
“TGIF?” She marked his drink order on a cup, then handed it to the barista.
“So very much. But Comic Con this weekend.”
She laughed. “Do you do the whole dress-up thing?”
“No. I like to let the world revel in my natural awesomeness.”
“That’s very noble of you. Catch you Monday?”
“Of course.” He stepped aside, so the next person could order.
He’d miss the rituals here. The people. The coffee. But he couldn’t wait to get out of this place. Law might be the family tradition, and he liked practicing, but this firm wasn’t for him. He did his job because it was his job. His other plans were why he’d gotten to the office early, though.
“Extra-large Mocha Red Eye,” the barista called. He was a new guy Josh hadn’t met yet.
Josh would know his name in a week or so. He grabbed his drink and headed for the elevator. A few minutes later, he settled in at his desk. Half the lights in the place were out, and no one else had arrived yet.
It was time for research. The firm represented a large game distributor, who specialized in tabletop and roleplaying games. The distributor wanted to acquire rights from the local company that had created Changelings and Caverns. Josh had maneuvered his way into working with the client. His goal was to meet some people, make some connections, and move into a new role, in a very different industry.
Part of that good impression would be learning everything he could about them, in order to represent them properly.
He used to make up games like C&C with his ex-girlfriend, and he’d loved it. She was the creative one; he was more about helping her grow her ideas. He wanted to do more of that. Help someone with a talent like hers expand their products and reach more customers.
He tumbled down the research rabbit hole, not emerging until the chatter grew around him. The office was bright now. Most desks occupied. Phones ringing. People shouting information at each other.
The rest of his reading would wait until later. He dove into work, pulling files, doing legal research, typing up documents to file with the courts—whatever anyone needed.
His phone rang, and Laurie Hunter flashed on the display. His mother. “Hello, Ms. Hunter,” he answered. He never called her Mother at the office. It was almost TV-show cliché.
“I need to shift your priorities, Josh.” Her tone was cool and professional. “We’re working on new boilerplate language for Automan Life, and I want you to shadow the lead attorney. To learn, and also to double-check their work.”
“What am I handing off in return?” The moment he asked, he knew the answer.
“The Polar Bear negotiation. Dylan will step into that spot instead. You can fill him in, but I need you on Automan. I trust you to do this.”
Josh liked her confidence in him but didn’t care for the news. “I can do both.”
“No. I’m sorry. I need you focused on Automan. I know you were looking forward to working on the other, but you’re going to be stretched thin as it is. In fact, I need you to take Saturday to come up to speed. Your meeting with them is Monday.”
Well, fuck.
"But I was going into Tosche Station, to pick up some power converters!"
"You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done."
The lines from Star Wars echoed in his head, but he resisted the urge to launch into them to make a point. So much for catching Comic Con with Dylan.
He sent his roommate a text. Working this weekend. If you hook up, don’t be stingy with the details.
The new contract information was already waiting for Josh in his email. He clicked into it and dove in.
*
SYDNEY WAS BRACED FOR a long day of solo-play. Hanging with Dylan yesterday was fun, but she didn’t expect him to be back.
That was all right. His flirting was enough for her to feed her fantasies last night and expand it into a vivid scene. One where they did end up in the shower, slipping and sliding against each other, water cascading around them as he knelt at her feet and licked her to orgasm, then bent her over—
A throb pulsed between her legs, and she squeezed her thighs together. Thoughts like that needed to wait until she wasn’t about to be set upon by crowds of people.
“Where do you want me boss?” Dylan asked.
She started when she realized he was behind her, and not in her head still. “Hey.” Great. Now she’d forgotten how to speak again.
“You look surprised to see me.”
Sydney shrugged. “It’s nothing personal. Most people wouldn’t come back, and I don’t know you well enough to bank on anything else.”
“Let’s change that.” He stepped into her booth. “First, tell me what I need to do.”
She could do that. She gave him a rundown of pricing. She’d handle the money. “No offense,” she said.
“None taken. I understand earning trust, and this is someone’s livelihood.”
People were starting to wander the aisles. Not a lot—the doors opened an hour early for gold-pass members—but enough that Sydney felt like she should focus on them instead of the hottie standing next to her, arm brushing hers every couple of minutes.
A group of three walked by, their gaze drifting to the table.
“Do you like games?” Sydney called.
They broke eye contact and hurried away quickly.
There would be a bit of that this weekend, but it was disheartening to start Day One off that way.
A pack of five girls in their late teens wandered past. “You ladies like to have fun?” Dylan called.
They exchanged looks and giggles. “Yes,” one said.
“We’ve got an assortment.” He nodded to the shelves behind him.
“No thanks,” another replied. They walked away, glancing back until they rounded the corner.
And then someone said yes. Before they finished their transaction, another person was waiting to buy a game.
It didn’t take long before Sydney and Dylan had their hands full, bagging purchases, making change, and answering questions.
When there was a lull in the crowds, as new panels started, Sydney sank into her seat. She was grinning, despite her aching feet.
“This is insane.” Dylan shifted his weight. “Do you do this a lot?”
“Every weekend there’s a big enough convention.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’d love that or hate it, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a try.”
“What’s your favorite flavor? Fandom, I mean?”
He furrowed his brow. “I have to pick? All of the above.” He gestured to the room.
That was so vague. Sydney wanted to keep chatting, but someone else was looking at her C&C. “Do you like games?” she asked.
The woman, who was dressed in an intricate Poison Ivy costume that left little to the imagination, skipped forward. “Love them. You?” Her voice was low and sultry, as she spoke in-character.
“Yeah. Absolutely.” Sydney grinned. “What’s your favorite kind?”
Ivy licked her lips. “Anything with vines or tentacles.” Wow. She did the whole roleplaying thing beautifully.
“Sounds kinky.” Dylan chimed in.
“It is, handsome. The kinkier the better. You two like to party?”
Not really. The answer died on Sydney’s lips when Dylan said, “Depends on the party.”
Ivy handed him a flier. “Upstairs, after everything shuts down tonight. They’ll ID you, and there’s a cover charge.”
“We’ll see if we can make it.” Dylan took the leaflet.
Ivy strolled away, hips swaying.
Sydney glanced over Dylan’s shoulder. The invitation was photocopied black text on green paper. It looked like a generic invitation, covered with cosplay clip art, including a maid costume, handcuffs, and a whip.
Dylan glanced at her. “Could be fun. Want to be my date?”
There was no way she was turning that down. “Sure.”
Something brushed her leg, and she swatted at it without thinking. A second brush, this one harder, pressed in on her leg, and she looked down to see her cashbox gone.
A short, thin guy crawled out from the other side of the table and ran into the crowds.
“Fuck,” she shouted. “That kid just stole my cash box.”