RomeCODE and JulieTEST (Startup Crossed Lovers Book 1)

by Jade Bitters

  And...she wasn’t Roxanne.

  “Who’s that girl?” asked Romeo, pulling Reuben aside as he walked through the crowd, talking on his headset as he walked toward the mezzanine staircase, but she was already being taken by the hand of some anonymous man in white, with a white mask, as they descended to the dance floor.

  “I don’t know,” said Reuben, looking at the girl in white coming down the stairs. He’d seen her at the dinner but there were so many girls it was hard to remember the names. That wasn’t his job.

  “She’s too beautiful to be captured on camera, standing out like an LED in the dark. She’s too good for this bad earth, for Heaven, or for Hell, and she is the brightest dove in a field of pigeons. As soon as this dance is over, I’m going to approach her,” said Romeo, not noticing the server had already left, but he couldn’t keep his emotions to himself. He had to let the world know how he felt about this strange girl in white coming closer by the second, but still all too far away. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before, and if I have, it was only because I hadn’t met her before.”

  “Of course, it’s a Pyrymyn boy,” Ty said to himself, the only one listening Romeo’s speech, as the server’s headset had picked up every last word. He turned on his headset. “Get security. It’s time to take out the trash. Who does he think he is, coming here in that disguise, to make fun of our celebration? Who wears black to a white party? I swear on my stock options, if I had him thrown out, nobody would blame me.”

  “What’s going on here, Ty?” asked William, over the headset. This was not how he’d expected the social event of the season to go. “Who’s responsible?” He looked over the crowd and found his right hand man with ease.

  “Stratford, there’s a Pyrymyn intern here,” said Ty, less than ten feet from Romeo now. “He’s here as a spy or to start a flash mob or something.”

  “Is it Romeo?” asked William, drinking his gin and tonic, which glowed a bright blue under the UV lights.

  Ty looked hard. The build matched: tall, firm, slender. “That’s him. That’s the asshole.”

  “Calm down, Ty,” said William. “Leave it. He’s not causing any trouble, and he’s a good kid. Everyone in SoMa knows that. I wouldn’t insult him for all my Thisbia equity. Calm down, ignore him. That’s all I ask of you, and if you want me to be please, you’ll put on a smile and behave. This is a party. Act like it.”

  “How else should I be acting when someone like him shows up?” said Ty, seething with anger. Romeo was so close, but William wasn’t going to let him take him down? “I can’t let such an insult go.”

  “You will let it go,” said William. “You want to try me? I’m your goddamn boss. Let it go. Stop. Stop moving towards him. Ty, stay where you are, or God help me, you’re going to cause a riot. It’s going to be chaos, and it’ll be all your fault.” William thought back to the party the week before, at Escalus’s mansion, and thought about the Prince of the Valley’s warning. If there was any more shit going down at these parties, both companies would be punished, no questions asked. It was a dumb policy, overly simplified when everyone knew that the whole rivalry was Pyrymyn’s fault, but at the same time, it made sense.

  “But Stratford, we can’t just let this go!” said Ty, but he stopped moving towards Romeo. He just watched the black haired boy in the even darker clothing and tried to figure out why on earth that kid was here of all places. Was he looking to obtain corporate secrets or something? Why would anyone send him here at all when he was just an intern?

  “Leave. It. You’re older than him, act like it,” said William with a sigh. “Is that really how it’s going to be? If you fuck this up, you’re going to pay. I know a few benefits of yours that could be cut.” William came off the headset for a second. “Alex, those were some great dance moves.” He pressed the mic button again. “I swear on my last patent, keep your goddamn mouth shut or else –” Again, the mic cut out, as William switched to another channel. The lights were still too damn bright, and they should have just been using black lights by that stage, the crowd was pumped enough to merit it. “Lower the lights. More.” Then, he was back with Ty. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Be. Quiet.” He cut out one final time, as he ushered more people into the VIP area.

  Ty turned his headset on and off but William had turned his off entirely. Damn it, he thought to himself. I’m so fucking mad, I’m shaking. I need a drink, but Romeo’s going to pay for this.

  As the song died down, and Juliet parted from her first partner of the evening, another man cut in, but unlike the others, he was clad in all black, instead of the UV-fluorescent white, but his hands were the same: strong, firm, and in hers.

  But unlike theirs, she didn’t want to pull away and out of them.

  As soon as they touched, there was a connection she couldn’t explain, and she couldn’t take his eyes off of his, his eyes, the only part of his face that wasn’t obscured by the obsidian opera mask, other than his two lips, just begging to meet hers the way their hands had already.

  “Your feet...they’re so graceful,” said Romeo, smiling with his eyes beneath he black opera mask. “I’m unworthy to dance with you...but maybe a kiss can make it up to you.”

  “You really are too kind, stranger, but I’m fine with a dance,” said Juliet with a laugh, but instead of turning away and covering her mouth, she kept looking the stranger in the eyes, and kept her hands in his. He was forward, but it was better than the passive aggressive guys that pretended they were satisfied just being coworkers or friends until they asked her out. He was up-front and knew what he wanted, and someone had to, because right now, although she knew she was here for business, to meet with Paris, there was something about this strange boy that made everything else in the world not matter, something about him that made her feel okay for the first time in months, as if he knew exactly who she was and what she was without even knowing her name. “Besides, dancing partners aren’t judged by their lips.”

  Romeo smiled. The girl must know how gorgeous she looked when she smiled, the way her eyes were almost backlit, the way they shone like sapphire glass, even in the dim light of the club. “But they have lips, don’t they?” teased Romeo, unable to take his eyes off her lips, practically pigmented to perfection, on the strange girl’s face, the lips begging to be kissed, that he was begging to have the privilege to brush his own against.

  “But they’re not for kissing,” said Juliet. Who was this boy? And why hadn’t they met sooner? They got along famously, almost like they were made for each other.

  That’s when Romeo realized that although he’d had his hands in hers, he hadn’t started dancing. They were just standing there, hand in hand, in the center of the dance floor, as various couples and groups partied around them, but they could have been anywhere, and the connection would have been just as strong, just as unbreakable, and they still would not have danced. “Well then, dancer, let the lips do what our feet can do,” said Romeo. “Kiss me. That’s all I’m asking. Can’t you do that for me?”

  “If dancers were kissers, why would they ever want to move?” asked Juliet.

  “Then, don’t move,” said Romeo, and his hands moved from hers, to the back of her head, which he cradled in her palms, pressing his fingers into her hair like a decorative comb, as she stood on her toes to reach him for a kiss.

  As soon as their lips met, everything in Romeo’s world felt right, like sparks were flying between him and the girl in white, the only girl without a mask and the only one who had caught his eye and now, his heart. After he’d seen her, he hadn’t wanted anyone else, hadn’t even talked to any other girls, but now, he was right where he belonged: with the girl that made him feel like he was going to overheat, but whom crashing and burning was worth it for.

  Juliet had never had a kiss before, as she’d never found someone she actually thought would really get her, but as soon as she kissed the tall boy, with abs like titanium covered in silicone, both firm and soft at the same time,
she felt like she was with someone who finally really understood her, someone on her frequency. He didn’t press for tongue, just keeping his lips on hers, pressing harder and softer and then harder again.

  Romeo ended the kiss, brushing his lips against her cheek and whispering into her ear, “And I guess, now my debt’s repaid.”

  Juliet didn’t pull away though. “Then, am I now the one in debt?”

  “As much of a debt as you can handle, and I’ll take payment any time,” joked Romeo, suddenly worried he was making too many jokes, but before he could say anything more awkward, she shut up him up.

  Juliet pulled him close, as his tongue entered her mouth for the first time, she felt something: an instant connection she couldn’t explain and couldn’t ignore, like he was a Trojan horse entering her and comparing his files to hers and finding they were identical, bit for bit, byte for byte, before he pulled away slowly, but still, it felt too sudden, because being away from him would never be satisfying, not after having been one with him in that moment.

  “Whoa,” said Juliet, looked down, then back up into the strange boy’s eyes. “It’s like you were programmed for that.” But, before she could do anything else, a hand placed itself on her shoulder. She turned: in a white jumpsuit and a white mask, with glitter and rhinestones, was Amy. Of all the times to get interrupted by Amy, this had to be the worst, but Amy, sweet Amy, who had pushed her to date various handsome men that summer, wouldn’t have interrupted her unless it was important...and if it was important, that meant only one thing.

  “Miranda is look for you,” said Amy. Juliet looked to Romeo as she walked away, listening on her headset for her boss’s instructions from her boss, the one woman who she had to make sure to please at all times, and her boss’s boss, the one man whom she had to keep happy. She couldn’t make her bosses wait but she wanted to be with Romeo at the same time. It was like there were two processors inside of her, and one was telling her to stay, the other to go. Her heart told her to stop, but her body was already moving, and she couldn’t risk upsetting Miranda, not on this night.

  “Who is Miranda?” asked Romeo, watching the girl in white walk away into the crowd of endless paleness. He wanted to know everything about her, and apparently, Miranda was important...maybe her mom?

  Amy raised a brow. Was this kid from another planet or something? Everyone here knew who the top brass at Thisbia were, by face and by name, and both by heart. Miranda was old guard tech, here since the Usenet days, and everyone knew who the eternally young looking CTO was...especially Amy, who was basically the only reason that Miranda took breaks, because of Amy’s mandatory human resources meetings, which just so happened to be held at the fanciest, schmanciest salons in SoMa.

  “Miranda? Miranda Hathaway,” said Amy, looking at the boy for any sign he had any idea what she was talking about. Didn’t any of these interns read PandoDaily? Even though this one seemed a bit dumb, at least Juliet had picked a handsome fellow: tall, dark, and handsome, like someone out of a romance novel...or something. “She’s only the best damn CTO in the Silicon Valley, and I help her manage the interns...including our favorite, who you were just talking with. Let me tell you, whatever company ends up with her will be making a very wise investment.” She looked at her champagne flute: it was already empty, but the night was still full. There would be other cute young things to harmlessly talk to, ones that didn’t have their sights set on her Juliet, and she waved as she walked away.

  Hathaway...Miranda...CTO? The words took two and a half seconds to click, before he realized what it all meant. Miranda Hathaway...the CTO of Thisbia. And I’m now at the mercy of one of their employees, who could easily break my heart? A hand on his shoulder interrupted his stream of thought. “Let’s go. We don’t want to overstay our welcome,” said Ben, with Mark by his side.

  “I...might’ve fucked up,” said Romeo, but coming down the stairs, from the VIP section in the mezzanine, was a man he did recognize.

  Tall, with salt and pepper gray hair, broad shoulders, and plainly cut and patterned suits that anyone with an eye for design could tell were made on Savile Row, William Stratford made it to the men in black before they could reach the exit. “Gentlemen, the night’s just starting, and we have a treat in store,” he said, wrapping an arm around Ben, who froze up.

  “We’ve unfortunately really got to be going, long flight tomorrow morning,” said Ben, as Mark gave one last girl his number. How they’d been able to do so well that night, without even taking off their masks, was beyond him.

  “Ah, well, in that case, thank you for coming,” said William. Ben relaxed, surprise the CEO didn’t recognize him after having seen him at so many Thisbia vs. Pyrymyn anti-trust trials. “Good night. There’re cabs in the front, ready to take guests home. It’s getting rather late, and I should be heading out myself. James, as the Italians say, ‘andiamo’! Let’s go!” The five men left and waited outside for the cabs to pull around, two men for one, three boys for the other, the former headed to Potrero Hill, the latter to the Mission.

  “Amy...who is that?” asked Juliet, pointing at a random guest. She couldn’t ask Amy straight up what the name of the handsome man she’d been dancing with was, because it’d be too transparent that she was interested in him...more than interested. It was something more than interested that made absolutely no sense to her, something that was four letters long and pushed to the back of her head.

  “That’s the interim CEO at Tiberion Corp,” said Amy, thinking back to the guest list she’d helped Caliban organize.

  “And that one? The one leaving?” asked Juliet, pointing towards a random man whose name she swore she knew but she’d actually, really forgotten.

  “That...is Petra, he works at Noisebridge, he’s a freelancer,” said Amy. Petra was friends with a good number of Thisbia employees and she’d seen him at local bars with the staff during happy hour. He was the closest thing to a townie that was on the guest list.

  “And that one? The one that I didn’t get to dance with?” asked Juliet, letting herself look at the boy she couldn’t look away from, the boy who had her focus ever since they’d met, the boy without a name but with her heart.

  Amy frowned and clucked her tongue. It was that boy in black again, the one that apparently had not gotten the memo that this was a white party, that this was always a white party, and that wearing black to a white party defeated the purpose of having a white party to begin with. “I don’t know his name.”

  “Please, find out for me,” asked Juliet, slipping off her white heels. I’d rather be alone that date anyone but him. She resisted the urge to lie down on the couch and relax: she could do that at home, in bed, and it wouldn’t look very ladylike to be seen with not only her shoes off, but her legs up. She flexed her toes as she thought about the evening: she’d had to leave to talk to Miranda about why she wasn’t with Paris, and she hadn’t been able to tell her the truth. To be fair, she had no idea who that boy was, but she knew one thing: he’d captured her heart. There’d be nobody else for her, nobody at all, and as soon as Amy came back, everything would be okay.

  Amy would get the boy’s name.

  She’d of course get his number.

  And Juliet would text him.

  He’d text her back.

  They’d go on a date, and then another.

  And then he’d ask her out and things...would finally be perfect. She’d have the internship and the boy. What more could a girl ask for?

  As Juliet fantasized about her future with the strange, beautiful boy, Amy came back. “His name...is Romeo, and he works for Pyrymyn. That’s right...he’s an intern at our biggest competitor,” she said with a sigh. That was the worst news she could possibly deliver to Juliet and she had never wavered for a second regarding whether or not she’d tell her ward the truth. The sooner Juliet knew, the sooner she’d surely get over the boy. He was cute, but there was no boy that Juliet would give everything up for: her work was everything to her, and there was n
o way that Juliet would give up her loyalties at Thisbia for some boy, even one in all black designer clothes with eyes that glowed emerald green in every light.

  “The only boy I’d date in the Silicon Valley, and he works for Pyrymyn? I met him before I knew he was associated with them, and of course, I find out he works for that company, of all companies, too late,” said to herself Juliet, sitting down on one of the long quilted leather couches. “I hate having a heart. What’s the point of falling in love if it’s going to be with someone you can’t be with?”

  “What was that?” asked Amy, busy thinking about whether or not there was someone else she could pair Juliet up with, someone who worked at Thisbia or one of their associated companies, someone who was smart and funny and tall, dark, and handsome...but not an employee at their rival company. That was the definition of a deal breaker.

  “Nothing, just something I saw on Tumblr,” lied Juliet, as she heard someone call her name.

  “Let’s not keep them waiting, he’s already gone,” said Amy. Little did she know that he’d only just appeared.

  Chapter Six: Act Two, Scene One

  Romeo entered his room and closed the door, leaning against it as he thought of the only thing he’d thought about since it had happened: the kiss, the kiss with her. How could I leave when my love is there? he thought. I should’ve stayed. He locked the door behind him and started to undress, getting out of the formal outfits and taking off his mask in front of a mirror. It was surprising how much of his face the opera mask hid: his sharp cheekbones, his dark brows, and the intricacies of his every expression. There was so much that the girl he surely loved had not yet seen, and would she love him more once she saw him as he was? Or find herself un-enamored?