Rodney surprised her. "It's actually about these three brothers who fight these alien replicants who basically have this tech that looks like magic. The Mystics been around for centuries and they used to be Druids. It's sort of fantasy/sci-fi mixed."
Abraham, José, Fezza and Tessa all stared at him.
"What?" Rodney said stiffly. "I like it. Screw you guys."
She realized she wasn't going to get anywhere with this argument. With the possible exception of Rodney, they were all dead set against her.
It was time to make a truly desperate plea.
"All right. I will do just about anything to get your help," she said. "I promised some friends that I'd get this done. I told you about that. I don't want to let them down. So what is it going to take to get you guys to help me out?"
She saw José's eyes light up.
"Barring that, you horn dog," she said, anticipating his suggestion.
"Aww, I didn't even get to say it!"
"Seriously. I will...clean your house. I will make you meals. I will let you duct tape me to an office chair for an entire day," she said. "Dunk tank. I'll let you shave my head. Bring it on."
Closer. Abraham was still scowling, but José and Fezza now looked intrigued...and, unfortunately, a bit gleeful.
"How about coming to work in a costume?" José asked.
"Sure."
"All day?" Fezza added, looking diabolically happy.
"Sure. All day," she said, then narrowed her eyes. "But I get to approve the costume."
Abraham snorted. "Ivy Valentine, from Soul Caliber."
"Yeah, right," she said, rolling her eyes. "Unfortunately, I don't have triple-E sized boobs, and even if I did, no chance in hell."
"Bayonetta?" José asked hopefully. "She's completely covered. Sort of."
"No!"
"Slave Leia?" Fezza tried.
"Sailor Moon?" José piped in.
Now Abraham scowled at him. "Seriously? Sailor Moon?"
"Hey. She's hot."
Tessa frowned. They weren't going to come up with less sexist costumes any time soon, but she'd always sort of liked Sailor Moon, and she was probably the tamest of their options. Besides, she'd seen Kyla's sketches--there was a costume, already made, that she could use.
"Okay."
They turned back to her from their arguing over whether or not Sailor Moon was hot. "Okay, what?" José said.
"If you guys help me finish the game by deadline, I'll dress as Sailor Moon. For a full day. Here at work."
They whooped. José and Fezza high-fived. Even Abraham shot her a smug grin.
"Hey, guys?" Adam said, interrupting their festivities. "I just wanted to bring somebody by to say hi."
Tessa blinked. It was Rachel...the stunning, Megan Fox-looking co-owner of the bookstore. Today, she was wearing a business suit, her inky black hair up in a loose top-knot, full lips smiling, violet blue eyes gleaming.
"Adam told me that you guys were going to help Tessa with the game," she said.
Rodney grinned. José, Fezza and Abraham, on the other hand, gaped at her. Slack-jawed, open-mouthed gaped. The mouthy engineering crew had been struck dumb by the sheer loveliness of Rachel.
"I thought I'd stop by and thank you personally. I can't tell you how much it means to my sisters and me."
"You have sisters?" José croaked.
She laughed. It sounded like a bell. Because of course it would, Tessa thought. Rachel wasn't human.
And what's she doing with Adam?
"I can only stop by for a minute," Rachel said, glancing at her watch. "But when Adam said you'd all be here, I figured I'd stop by now so I wouldn't distract you when you were doing your work."
"Oh, no trouble!"
"Really...distract us, any time!"
Rodney came up to Tessa and nudged her. "I would've helped regardless," he said, the only male there seemingly unaffected by Rachel's looks. "But it looks like you've got your team."
She watched as Adam escorted Rachel out, turning and giving Tessa a quick thumbs-up before shutting the door.
She sighed. This was obviously a plan on his part.
And damn him, it was working.
"Right. We'll all come over to your house tonight," Fezza said, rubbing his hands together. "We've got all weekend, and we'll just caravan."
"I could take a few days," José said. "I've got vacation."
"So do I," Abraham said. "We'll run it by Stacy, but we're not on for anything...we could probably all go."
Tessa realized she had vacation, too. It was all coming together.
"Rachel was the deciding factor, wasn't she?" she asked.
"Well, duh," Abraham said, getting up and heading to Stacy's desk, the guys close behind him.
"Does that mean I don't have to dress like Sailor Moon?" she called after them. They immediately answered back in a chaotic jumble.
"Yeah you do!"
"You're still on the hook for that."
"Sailor Moon! Sailor Moon!"
She rubbed at her temples, watching as they walked away. Well, she had her crew. She'd talk to Adam, and they'd pull it together.
"Why are you mad at me?" Adam asked Tessa as she bustled around the kitchen, laying out food, cleaning stuff up...and otherwise, flat-out ignoring him.
It was Saturday morning, fairly early at eight a.m. Adam knew the guys decided they'd come by the house today, rather than last night. They were getting all their gear ready for this week's coding marathon.
Tessa had been up since about six a.m. She'd asked if she could borrow his car, since she didn't have one, and he'd let her, only to find a feast of bagels, cinnamon rolls, doughnuts, and two vats of coffee, as well as a fridge full of beer and soda, bags of chips, and some kind of deli plates or something. He'd helped himself to a cup of coffee, still wearing the sweats he'd slept in and a hoodie. She was already dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, ready to deal with the incoming crew. She'd gotten the fire going, so the house was toasty, and she'd straightened up the house a little. Not that the guys would have noticed, or cared if they did.
She wasn't looking at him, or talking to him. She was obviously pissed. He just wasn't sure why.
He finally stepped in front of her before she had the chance to triple-check her list of food prep. "Seriously. What's the problem?" he asked. "Did I do something wrong?"
She quirked one eyebrow at him, that sort of "do I really need to say it" look of derision women seemed to perfect. "Why did you call Rachel?"
Ah. That. Was she jealous, or something? "You know as well as I do, the guys are driven by their glands," he said, as if it were obvious. "Rachel is gorgeous. They'd probably walk over fire just to say hello to her. And they all signed on, so now we've got a full crew to get this game done," he pointed out. "I thought you'd be happy."
"Happy? Happy that you're objectifying and pimping my new friends?" Tessa asked, crossing her arms and glaring at him.
"I wasn't pimping her, for God's sake!" He glared right back. "She got it as soon as I mentioned they could use some convincing."
"And that makes it okay?" Tessa took a step closer, pointing at him. "She's a nice person. She's more than a pretty face. But do you think she's fine with being used for the old 'sex sells' argument? Really?"
He squirmed, uncomfortable. "I won't let the guys near her," he said. "Not that they'd do anything, but I don't want her to feel uncomfortable."
"Because asking her to come in and proposition the guys wouldn't make her uncomfortable!"
"She was the one who suggested coming in to the office!" he shot back. She was getting in his face, and he was feeling belligerent...tinged with, admittedly, some guilt. "I just said if she could email them, or if we could do something that showed them the bookstore and emphasized who they were helping, it'd be a boost. But she's the one that said she'd make a personal plea. So don't try to push that bullshit on me, okay?"
"If the shoe fits," she ground out, "lace up that bitch and wear it!"
<
br /> He hadn't realized you could describe brown eyes as "blazing," but Tessa's were practically snapping sparks. They stood there, facing off, just a foot apart from each other.
He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths. "I didn't mean to..." He stopped. "All right. It was sexist."
She made a little sound of disbelief.
"I was in problem-solver mode. I knew we couldn't do the game without the guys. I just thought about what was going to get them to go along with it. But the ends don't justify the means, and trust me, I don't want to be that guy. I'll apologize to Rachel."
He could sense when she let go of the argument, nodding reluctantly. But the tension, the heat, was still there. It was just starting to shift a little, he noticed--probably because they'd gotten too close, physically.
"I had it under control anyway," she muttered. "I convinced them to join myself."
He couldn't help it. He grinned. "Yeah, I heard. Sailor Moon, huh?"
"I got the costume from Kyla last night. And yes, they all signed on," she pointed out.
"So I guess you're the one using sex to sell, now."
She blushed, her cheeks going a deep dusty rose. "Sailor Moon isn't sexy."
"Are you kidding?" He laughed. "That short skirt? Long hair? The boots with heels? Totally sexy."
"Okay, I'm not sexy as Sailor Moon," she clarified. If possible, the blush deepened. "They're just looking to humiliate me, anyway. It's not much different than a dunk tank."
"I'm going to have to call big bullshit on that," he murmured, smiling as her eyes widened and she gasped.
"So you're saying that the guys aren't interested in watching me embarrass myself by dressing in costume at work all day?"
"No, you're right there," he said, edging a little closer to her. "But we both know you're sexy as hell, regardless."
Her mouth fell open, and she looked as if she meant to say something, then stopped, then started again--and stopped. She looked baffled.
"In case you forgot," he said, feeling his body shift gears completely as he moved even closer to her, his body almost touching hers, his face only inches away, "The restaurant. The hallway."
She stared at him blankly.
"The masquerade party lobby?" He felt his body tighten just at the memory of that. "Really? Nothing?"
She held her breath for a second, her gaze meeting his. He could see her pulse racing in her throat.
He leaned forward, his mouth near her ear. "The couch," he whispered, his breath brushing against her neck.
"I...I thought we agreed...this is a bad idea."
He remembered that, too. He backed away reluctantly. "I'm just saying you're sexy," he said, pulling back. "I'm not doing anything. But you're a lot sexier than you give yourself credit for, Tess. Whether you recognize it or not."
She was still blinking at him when he started to turn away. Then, before he could take another step, she launched herself at him.
He realized this was exactly what he'd hoped for. He wasn't lying--he did hate to hear her be self-deprecating, especially when he knew just how sexy she could be. But being honest, he'd also hoped that the weird and overwhelming chemistry that had taken a hold of them of late would kick in...and she'd react just this way.
She was kissing him hard, hungrily, her hands clutching his shoulders, stroking up his neck, pulling his head tight against hers. He reached for her hips, molding her body to his as he leaned down, his tongue tangling with hers, his mouth melding and matching her frenzied pressure. His fingers dug into her hips, cupped her against his growing hard on.
She moaned eagerly, and he felt every muscle tense.
There was a loud knock on the door. "Hey! You guys awake? I'm freezing my balls off out here!"
They broke apart, breathing raggedly. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, her lips looking swollen and her hair tousled. "They're here," she said. "Right on time, for a change. What were the odds?"
He cursed. "You'd better get the door," he said, "While I...um, change. And cool down a minute."
She glanced down, seeing his sweatpants tented out in front of him. She let out a nervous giggle, even as he saw her hands flex and she--God, help him--licked her lips.
"I'll get the door," she echoed, her voice numb, her eyes still trained on his erection. She turned, started to head toward the front door.
He grabbed her, dragging her back, kissing her hard and quick. Then he let her go.
"We're going to talk about...this," he said. "When this is all over. We are definitely going to talk."
She nodded, then turned to the door. He headed for his room, locking it, his whole body aching with need.
Hell, yes, they were going to talk. And then, if he had any say in it, they were going to do a whole lot more than that.
CHAPTER 7
Come on, Tess. Get your head in the damned game.
They'd been hashing away at breaking down the work and putting up the job board Adam had insisted on, to make sure they were doing the work that needed doing, and not going in circles or doubling up on anything.
Abraham dwarfed the chair he sat in, his massive bulk and burly lumberjack-styled red beard making his deep scowl that much more intimidating. "I'm telling you, we have to use Unity."
"I have been working on this game engine for years," Tessa said, trying to keep her voice cool. "It'll do what we need it to do."
"It's got some neat bells and whistles, but they're just that--gimmicks," Abraham countered, leaning forward. Obviously, he was unused to people telling him "no." "If we use the pre-existing Unity engine, we'll save time, and we don't have a hell of a lot of that."
She frowned. "I worked hard on this engine. It's got plenty of solid coding behind it, not just a bunch of tricks and feature creep!"
He rolled his eyes, and for a moment, she imagined herself picking up his laptop and simply belting him across the face with it. "I don't care. It's gonna take too long," he said sharply.
"No, it won't!"
He looked at Adam.
"Why are you looking at him?" she snapped.
Adam sighed. "Listen, this is her gig, her idea," he said, his tone subdued and still conciliatory.
Abraham stood up. "Yeah, well, she can do it by herself, then," he said sarcastically. "Let's see how well you all do without me here."
Adam frowned, crossing his arms. "So I guess seeing Rachel..."
"Adam, can I speak to you a minute?" Tessa interjected, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him toward her room. "Just a second, Abraham."
"I'm gettin' a beer," he grumbled, heading for the kitchen.
She tugged Adam in and shut the door. "What the hell are you doing?"
"What? I'm trying to stop Abraham from bailing on the project!"
"You are not bringing Rachel into this again," she said, now feeling like braining him with something. "And while I appreciate the help...just stop. Okay?"
"Well, excuse me," he huffed. "You know what an asshole Abraham can be! I'm just trying to protect you, here!"
"Yeah, and that's the problem!" she hissed back, eyeing the door, trying to keep her voice low enough that the guys out in the living room wouldn't overhear. "The whole point to this was trying to show them I can do a project and work with a team, but also to show that I'm worthy of becoming an engineer. You getting in the way and 'helping' just proves to him that I'm too weak to fight my own battles!"
"Why should you have to battle at all?" he said, grimacing as she motioned him to keep his voice down.
"Seriously? Are you seriously going to tell me you have no idea how hard it is as a woman to make it in this industry?" She balled her hands into fists. "Do you know how many places I had to interview at before I finally got a job? How overqualified I am to just be an audio coder? How long I've waited for this shot? Well? Do you?"
"We're not sexist," he said quietly.
"Yeah, well, look at the sausage fest sitting out in our living room, and tell me how well that equality thing is g
oing," she shot back. "You really think it's not a battle? Grow up."
He flinched. Then he stood straighter.
"So this is all about you getting the job, huh? Getting on Abraham's engineering team?" he repeated, in a low voice. "I'm sorry. I thought you were doing this for your new friends--for Rachel and Hailey and Cressida. But I guess it's more important that you get your career in line."
She rubbed her temples. "Don't do that. Don't try to turn this around on me."
"I'm not going to deny that you're absolutely right--it's hard to be a woman in this industry. I've seen what you can do. You kick ass, and it's not fair. There should be more women coders. And you should have more of a chance, without putting up with all of this," Adam said, his voice more gentle.
She felt some of the fight in her system slowly dissipate.
"But if you have to make a choice between proving a point, and helping your friends," he said, in a low voice, "what's it going to be? The game, or your pride?"
"So I just have to roll over?" she said, feeling her throat tighten. "Those are my only options? I can be a doormat and help my friends, or I can be proud and still not get the goddamned job?"
She turned, kicking the bed, then immediately regretting it as pain shot up her foot.
"Ow! God damn it!"
He nudged her sitting, rubbing her foot. "Are you okay?"
"Goddamn it," she repeated, blinking back tears. "I hate this. I hate this."
He sighed. "You need an ice pack or something?"
"No. I'll be fine." She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I'm sorry you're in this position, too." He sighed. "But..."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "But, what?"
"It really will be faster with Unity," he said softly. "I think your engine's got some great features, and with some work, it'll really turn into something cool. But you're working under the gun. You've got the competition coming up too fast to teach the guys how to use what you've got and to work out the glitches. Use Unity and you've got a much better chance at success."
Level Up: A Geek Romance Rom Com, Book 1 (Fandom Hearts) Page 9
