Don't Game Me (Game Lords Book 2)

by Zoe Forward

  Harassing? How about threatening? “I wouldn’t say I’m being sexually harassed beyond what you’d expect in a male-dominated workplace. I’m handling it.”

  “I don’t like it. Who’s this job with?”

  “GenShare.”

  He frowned as his gaze returned to the road. “I know them. Thought they were located down in Southern California, not up in Berkley.”

  Shouldn’t have given him the company name. Bad mistake. He might do research. “Branch office.”

  “Sounds pretty bad. I assume it’s an internship type of position. Our internship is usually pretty good for those selected. Sexual harassment isn’t allowed.”

  “NJ Legacy is different. You guys care about anyone you bring into your company, whereas with my internship they just want the work done for as cheap as possible.”

  “I think we’ve kept all our interns so far. Sounds like you need to walk away. Whatever job you apply for won’t care about some shit internship with GenShare, not with your skills. What’s your next step?”

  She picked at a hangnail.

  She glanced up, finding his gaze on her. His eyes held true interest.

  Desire to spill the truth ate at her. “I want to finish my master’s and get a job that pays. I’m not sure I want to stay in computer engineering though.”

  “Grad school burning you out? You don’t need to graduate to get a job. Most at our company don’t have degrees, myself included.” He zipped around a few cars on the highway. His radar detector beeped loudly, and he slowed with a frown.

  “Been caught speeding before?” She couldn’t resist asking. His resistance to changing cars, to keeping the original car he bought six years ago when he said he could first afford his own car, fascinated her. She’d asked him about it before because they both loved high-tech, fast cars. He claimed he had yet to drive anything he liked better.

  “I’ve been pulled over a time or two. The car is a cop magnet. I think because it’s red.” He flipped on the radio. A country song blared a twangy tune.

  “I didn’t know you liked country.” She hummed along to the familiar tune.

  “You’ve made lots of assumptions about me.”

  “Like what?”

  He shrugged and wove around cars. She almost grabbed the oh-shit handle but caught his smirk. Instead, she fisted her hand. He was driving like this on purpose to get a rise out of her.

  She snapped, “Assumptions like you’re a player since you bang a different girl every weekend?”

  Uh oh. She shouldn’t have said that. The last time she brought this up they’d had a blow-out that resulted in him stomping out of her parents’ house.

  He braked hard at a stoplight, throwing her forward and back in the seat. “Let’s get one thing straight, I won’t deny I’ve got a lot of experience. I don’t do more than one night. That’s what works for me. But I’ve never banged a woman.”

  “Semantics.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Every one of the women I’ve been with enjoyed the hell out of it. I never did it in a restroom or five minutes in a closet. What I offer takes time.”

  She’d hurt his feelings, but her pride kept the I’m sorry stuck in her throat.

  He didn’t take his gaze off the road. “I don’t like the Reid guy if he’s your new idea for a wedding date.”

  Reid? She’d only flirted a little bit because Jake had been watching, which paid off. Jake sounded jealous. “He’s not a techie nerd like us. He’s different. Differences can be interesting.”

  “He probably wouldn’t even understand what you do. So, what’s your plan with him after you’ve slept with him? Sex is great when the chemistry works, sometimes even if the chemistry isn’t there, if he’s good, which I doubt. But afterward?”

  “Who said anything about sleeping with him? I just need a date for the wedding and maybe tonight, although it’s getting a little late to organize it for tonight.”

  He granted her a double eyebrow raise of skepticism. “Wedding date? Implies…you know, afterward.”

  “Maybe for you wedding date implies automatic sex afterward. I haven’t heard that’s a thing. I’m sorry I misspoke and said hookup yesterday. I meant date.”

  She shifted uncomfortably, her body now hot and achy at the thought of sex with Jake.

  “Subconsciously, you want a hookup.”

  Maybe with you. Her face scorched.

  He met her gaze. “You’re not a one-night-only kind of girl, Bec. You’re the kind who plans a relationship with togetherness and intimacy shit. If you hook him and he’s in it for more than one time, and if he’s even okay with long distance for a while, then what? What are you going to do when he doesn’t want to sit through a Star Wars marathon until two a.m. or refuses to see the newest Avengers movie?”

  “Everyone likes the Avengers.” Were they still talking about Reid?

  Jake blew out a long breath. “Not everyone can stand Tony Stark or Thor’s hair, although he cut it in these past few movies, thank God.”

  “Oh, come on. Thor had amazing hair. And his arms…” A dreamy smile tugged her lips upward. “What about the Black Widow in tight leather?”

  “She’s not bad.” He grinned. “Not everyone wants to see Star Wars in super high def with surround sound.”

  She shot him an eye roll at the reminder of that night several years ago when Jake caught her watching Star Wars in her brother’s video game screening room at their office. She’d borrowed the jumbo screen with the badass sound system to get an authentic theater experience. “How do you know he doesn’t like Star Wars?”

  “Are you kidding me? He wore a purple polo shirt.”

  “Fine. He probably isn’t into Star Wars, but everyone can adjust movie taste. I’m not looking for long-term. I only need a date to go to the wedding. Maybe, if my date’s good, we’ll hook up.” She chanced a glance his way.

  His jaw tensed. “This isn’t like you.”

  “I’m not asking you for anything afterward. All I need is a date to the wedding.”

  “Uh-huh.” His phone directed their destination was up on the left. “There it is.” He pointed at a strip mall. “Looks like a small-time operation. Your mom must’ve really been doing a friend a favor to come so far out here. Let’s get this done.”

  She let him lead into the small printing shop in the rundown mall.

  Jake smiled at the middle-aged receptionist with fried blonde hair. “We’re here to pick up the Harrison wedding items.”

  In true Long Island fashion, she harrumphed as if he’d put her out that they asked she do her job. She plunked a huge box on the counter. “Harrison wedding stuff. It’s all there.”

  “We need to review it before we leave,” Jake said.

  Becca sifted through the place cards. “Oh, no. These are misspelled. They made the Kempers into Keepers. There are a lot in the Kemper family.” She placed aside twenty-two cards. Next came the menus. “This is bad. They forgot to put the dessert on the bottom. Tori will flip out. Yes, there’s wedding cake, but Tori also had the catering restaurant do a tiramisu.”

  Jake leaned onto the counter and smiled. “We need these re-done.” He slid the place cards and menus across the counter. “Becca is going to write down the corrections, and you’re going to have this fixed.”

  “Mr. Wade isn’t in until eleven. This can’t be ready until tomorrow.” The receptionist smacked her gum and flipped through a few screens on her cell phone.

  “The wedding is tomorrow.” Becca imagined her mom’s reaction when she got the news. It’d involve either a heart attack or nervous breakdown.

  Jake’s gaze flashed to hers, blazing pissed-off. He grabbed her hand and squeezed in what she interpreted to be an I’ve got this. He shifted focus to the receptionist. “Charlene, is it?” He pointed at her desk nameplate. After her nod, he said, “Charlene, you will phone Mr. Wade right now. He will reprint the items of issue and have them in this box within one hour. We will not pay extra.”

 
“Mister, we don’t work that way. There’s a fifty-dollar reprint fee, minimum.” Charlene popped another pink bubble and licked it off her lips.

  Jake dropped his charming smile. He glanced down at the menus. “These aren’t engraved. They’re laser printed. I hope Mrs. Harrison is aware these aren’t engraved. Your boss needs to load the right paper into the printer and press print. It might take twenty minutes max. Let me explain why Mr. Wade and you are going to fix this mistake within the next hour and why it’s going to look better than this second-rate crap you’ve thrown haphazardly into the box. This is the Harrison wedding. As in Noah Harrison, billionaire owner of NJ Legacy Gaming whose wedding will be featured in not one, but three mainstream wedding magazines. Tomorrow’s multimillion-dollar event will be in every New York newspaper and on all Internet gossip sites. There’s a press waiting list to get in. You might’ve thought the Kardashian wedding was big, but it’s nothing compared to the Cinderella story of Noah and Tori and the gala they have planned. There will be A-listers from Hollywood to Broadway in attendance. Mr. Wade will not want the Harrison family to mention you guys messed up their printing and refused to fix it on the day of the rehearsal dinner.” Jake’s tone implied the printing company’s death. Scary.

  This must be how Jake propelled NJ Legacy to success. She loved her brother, but Noah was only a programming genius, not a people person. Noah certainly wasn’t a salesman. But Jake… Well, he did this. He got shit done.

  Jake examined the menu. “This isn’t even centered on the page. What kind of shoddy workmanship is this?” He tossed the menu into the box and dramatically rolled his silver watch to glare at its face. “We’ll be back in an hour.”

  7

  “Hollywood A-listers?” Becca laughed as he started the car. Felt good to laugh.

  He shrugged. “Charlene won’t know the difference. The rest is true. I hate the press, but they’ve dogged Noah and me for months about his wedding, ever since he got dubbed sexiest tech CEO by Wired magazine in January.”

  “Do you mind running over to the Electronics World while we’re waiting? I saw one across the street.” Becca pointed to a shopping mall. “I forgot to pack my cell phone charger. My phone’s running on fumes at this point.”

  She actually needed a cord to connect her cell to the one Pascal gave her. Then she could evaluate exactly what the phone was up to and perhaps do some reprogramming. She’d have to be careful though. They’d have a safeguard to know if she messed with it.

  “Sure.” Jake stared expectantly as if waiting for some sort of attaboy or you’re my hero. He had been amazing.

  “Thanks for setting the printer straight. We’ll see if it works.”

  His frown deepened. “They’ll get it done.”

  She smothered another laugh. He was so used to getting whatever he wanted from his people. A wicked part of her liked throwing a little doubt his way to make him squirm. “We’ll see. This is Long Island, you know.”

  As they entered Electronics World, she pointed at a section of cell phone covers. “Has to be there.”

  Of course, it wasn’t.

  “Let’s ask for help,” he suggested, not even making an effort to look for phone accessories.

  “I can find it.” She zipped up and down a few aisles. Nothing. Jake lagged behind her.

  “These places make no sense. They do it on purpose to encourage impulse buys. Let’s ask…” Jake trailed off as he plucked a game from the random display in the middle of the aisle. He turned the box over, rolled his eyes. “Cheap knock-off crap. Can’t they come up with their own ideas?” He waved the box in the air. “We should sue this company for rights infringement and plagiarism of our Zoneworld Warrior. Look, they even called it Warrior Zone.”

  “I’m sure it sucks, which is why it’s on sale for sixteen dollars. I can’t find the freaking cell phone cord section. How do you know they make things hard to find on purpose?”

  “I know their marketing director.” He shoved the video game back into the display rack and took a picture of the cover with his phone. He typed on his phone. “I’m sending this to my lawyer.”

  She zipped down a few aisles grumbling, “I could find one faster at a pharmacy.”

  She aha’ed when she found a small rack of cables and snagged the right one to connect the phones. Her gaze slid to a magazine display at the end of the aisle. “Holy cow. Is that you on the cover?”

  “No. Don’t—” He grabbed at the magazine as she yanked it out of the rack, but he missed. His cheeks flushed.

  “Sexiest bad-boy CEO?” She read, biting her lip against laughing. “Is this why you didn’t want to wander around?”

  He tried to grab at the magazine again.

  She twirled away and flipped to the full article on page seventy-two. “Oh my, Jake. You are bad.” Unable to stop, she read the first page of the article in absorbed silence, greedy for secrets about Jake. She flipped through the next three pages. “You’re a dating protocol guru? This even talks about texting rules, sexy tattoos, and—” She moved the magazine close to her face to read. “You even discussed aftershave?”

  His cheeks turned a darker red. “We discussed things other than dating and aftershave. I guess that’s all the journalist heard.”

  “This is a great picture of you.” She rotated for him to see the full page black-and-white of him leaning on a railing, his white shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely on his shoulders with an exotic water location in the background. His brows were dark slashes framing his light-colored eyes. The black and white brought out his square jaw and that tiny hint of a dimple on his chin. She angled the picture to look again. Her gaze drank in the carved-out curves of his abdomen and the hint of a tattoo peeking out. “Where was this taken?”

  “Italy. I was at a conference.”

  “You felt the need to take your shirt off and get naked?”

  “I’m not naked in the picture.”

  “Okay, partially undressed.”

  “It was hot outside.”

  “Really?”

  A bashful smile tweaked his lips. “The photographer thought it’d be better for the article.”

  “It’s a great photo. Really gives off the vibe you were…hot.” She giggled. “What’s tattooed on your shoulder?” Examining the magazine within inches of her face didn’t help her make out the ink on his skin. She glanced up at him in silent question.

  “There’s only one way you’ll find out.” He grinned.

  “I offered you a chance.” Her heart pounded with anticipation at his reaction. She wanted to put it out there again and push him into talking about it, a wish that had nothing to do with Symphis.

  He glanced left and pointed to the gaming section. “Look. They’re demo-ing someone else’s virtual reality system using our game.” He grabbed the magazine out of her hands and tucked it back into the rack. “Let’s play.”

  “I’m getting my own copy,” she threatened. “I might even buy a whole bunch and distribute them at the wedding.”

  He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “It’ll keep you hot and bothered when you’re alone at night on the West Coast.”

  She batted him in the arm. “You are a bad boy.”

  “Says so in the magazine. Must be true, then.” He strolled in the direction of the monitors and teenagers playing video games.

  She pointed at a newly vacated sofa for two. “Let’s play? The world’s sexiest bad boy against the world’s most desperate geek?”

  “I thought we were playing.” His lips lifted into a wicked grin.

  “Looks like they’ve loaded up the game.”

  “Let’s do it. We’ve still got a while until the reprints are done.” He threw her a controller.

  “I’m pretty good at this one.” The opening music elicited goose bumps. Touching the controller cramped her gut and sped her heart. She used to love this game and its sequel. Hell, she used to adore gaming one-on-one or in small groups. Now even the music gave her the willies.
She’d been forced to compete on assigned, crappy teams in the Stadium in San Diego for months.

  Traveling to the Stadium was the worst. It required she navigate her way to a new location since it changed every time, usually in an abandoned building in a scary part of town. People both at her location and across the country, possibly worldwide, placed bets on the teams like a horse race.

  Becca tried to leave that first time she’d been “invited” to the Stadium, but Pascal insisted it was only once—an experimental experience. The second time took coercion, a mixture of threat with the video and implications for her future at the company. Gullible and naive, she’d played. Prior to her second time had been her moment to run, but she’d been gullible. It’d only gotten worse after that. Much worse.

  Jake punched through the opening screens of the game. “Ugh. We have to start on Level One. I prefer level fourteen to start.”

  He handed her a bulky virtual reality headset. They didn’t do VR in the Stadium.

  “I hate these bulky things. Cannot wait for you guys to launch your goggles.” She adjusted hers to a fit as best possible.

  “Pre-sales are doing well worldwide.”

  “That’s probably an understatement.” She lifted the headset to glance at him in time to catch his smile. The small goggles their company was set to release were compatible with any gaming system and so affordable that the invention was set to put their already thriving company on level with the big players in the computer industry.

  He clicked through startup screens to get to the opening of Level One. “It’s been a while since I’ve played.”

  “Ha!” she declared minutes later after they’d both high-scored out all previous players on the system, and she was one point ahead of Jake going into Level Two. She actually enjoyed the game for the first time in eons. To her left, a small group watched their game. Uh oh. Someone held the magazine with Jake’s picture on the front.

  After level two, Jake paused the game. “We should quit.”

  “Why? Because I’m winning and you’re scared of losing?”

  He smiled so wide a dimple formed on his cheek. “Maybe I’m letting you win.”