The Boyfriend Project

by Farrah Rochon

  The sarcasm dripping from her words gave an indication of just how she felt about that.

  “But there’s more to it than just checking off boxes,” he said. “They wouldn’t have hired you just to fill some quota.”

  “I did say that I know my shit,” Samiah said, her grin the very definition of cheeky. But the earlier lightness in her eyes had dimmed. “I’ve earned every single bonus and promotion I’ve ever received. But, still, it can be exhausting.”

  “How so?” he asked.

  She stared contemplatively at the surrounding foliage. After several weighty moments drifted by, she pointed the branch she held to a spot on the ground. “Do you see those ants?”

  Daniel looked to where she pointed. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the monotonous color palette, but he finally made out the ants walking in a single-file line through the terrain of fallen leaves, slippery rocks, and disturbed earth.

  “Yeah, I see them,” he said.

  “You see the ones carrying the pieces of leaves? Their burden has to be ten times their body weight, yet they’re faithfully carrying it, because that’s just what has to be done.” She pushed at a rock impeding the ants’ path. “That’s my existence. The pressure to be perfect is overwhelming.”

  “No one expects you to be perfect.”

  She looked over at him, her expression indulgent, as if pandering to a naive child. “How long have you been in this industry?”

  “Long enough.” Daniel nodded, feeling a touch foolish now that he realized where she was going with this.

  “I’m sure you’ve suffered through a few uncomfortable moments as a person of color in the tech industry,” Samiah said. “What you’ve experienced? Multiply that by ten and it’ll give you a taste of what I face on a daily basis. Women in general have a hard time being taken seriously in this industry, but a black woman?” She huffed out a humorless laugh. “We’re not expected to be good at math and science. We’re not expected to understand lexical analysis, or method overloading or any of the concepts that we all work with every single day. It feels as if I’m living under a microscope, Daniel. As if I’m expected to fail at any moment.” She pointed to the ground. “And like that ant, I’m carrying the weight of so many others on my shoulders.”

  “But why would you put that kind of pressure on yourself?”

  “It’s not as if I asked for the pressure, but I can’t pretend it’s not there. If I mess up that gives Owen Caldwell the excuse he needs to ignore the résumé of every black woman that comes across his desk. He can simply say that they tried it, but the last one they hired didn’t work out. Why should they take a chance on another?” She put a hand up. “And I am not overreacting. I’ve seen it happen before.”

  He wanted to refute her words, but how did he know if what she was saying wasn’t the absolute truth? Like every other industry, the tech world could be a shitty place. He’d had a few thinly veiled remarks hurled his way while undercover at various software companies. He’d brushed it off, knowing he wouldn’t be around long enough to make calling it out worth his time.

  But he’d never had to consider how his performance on the job could affect the chances of those coming up behind him. He couldn’t imagine having to shoulder that kind of pressure day in and day out.

  “I’m sorry to unload on you like that,” Samiah said. “My sister is the one who usually suffers through my venting. It’s just…it’s a lot.”

  “You don’t have to apologize to me, Samiah.”

  He was the one who should be apologizing. He was the one lying to her face. Confiding something so intimate required a level of trust he didn’t deserve from her.

  “If you ever need to vent, I’m here,” Daniel said. “That goes for more than just venting. Whatever you need, just ask.”

  “Thanks for the offer.” The grateful look in her eyes made him want to offer her the world. “You can start by throwing the next flash competition.”

  He pitched his head back and laughed, grateful for the levity after their heavy conversation.

  “I don’t know about that,” Daniel said. “What if the next prize is cupcakes from that place that sells out within the first hour every day?”

  “Oh, if that’s the case I’m willing to fight you for it.”

  He bumped her shoulder with his. “How about we share?”

  Her eyes dropped to his mouth, the corners of hers curving up in the most enchanting of smiles.

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  Samiah thought she’d be on time for once, but true to form, she was the last one to arrive for the weekly meet-up with Taylor and London. At least she had a good excuse this time. Because London had only a couple of hours between shifts, they’d decided to meet near the hospital where she worked. Dealing with Austin rush-hour traffic—something Samiah normally avoided at all cost—would make anyone late. And in need of a drink.

  “I swear I tried to get here on time,” Samiah said, placing her purse with the others on the lone empty chair. “Did you all order already?”

  “I had to,” London said. “I need to be back at the hospital by seven.”

  “I thought you had two hours before your next shift started. Did a surgery get moved up or something?” Taylor asked.

  She shook her head. “The only time I perform surgeries at night is if they come through the emergency room. I need to head back early because I’m meeting with a couple of the other doctors before my shift starts. We’re having a powwow about some bullshit going on at the hospital.”

  The bite in London’s tone was so unlike her. “So, that sounds serious,” Samiah said. “Is it?”

  “It has the potential to be.” She dipped a fried eggplant into marinara sauce and swirled it around, but then set it back on the plate uneaten. “It has taken me longer than it should have to recognize that bureaucracy and red tape can literally kill people. And there are some who just don’t care. The bottom line means more, regardless of how much it adversely affects patients. I just…” She shook her head. “This is not what I signed up for. I became a doctor to help people. To help children.”

  In the short time she’d known her, Samiah had already become accustomed to London’s mordant, sometimes dark sense of humor. Case in point, last week, when she shared that she’d lost a patient. Despite her obvious pain, she’d managed to smile through it, and by the time dessert rolled around she’d had them all laughing to the point that they drew stares.

  But this London? This was the first time she’d seen this London.

  It was a striking reminder that they all bore crosses when it came to their respective careers, some heavier than others. London’s was no doubt the heaviest of all. Not only did her work have life-and-death consequences; she was under more professional scrutiny than Samiah could imagine.

  She’d run across articles of people accomplishing extraordinary things in their respective fields, but unless it had something to do with tech, Samiah usually scrolled past it. It wasn’t until she’d looked into London’s background that she discovered her new sister-in-catfishing-notoriety was a legitimate rock star in the world of pediatric surgery.

  She’d lost count of the number of Ones to Watch lists bearing the name London Kelley, MD. Not only was she featured on just about every medical website Samiah found having to deal with pediatrics, but there had been over two dozen articles in medical journals that London had authored.

  The fact that she’d given Craig Walters the time of day was a testament to just how slim the pickings were when it came to Austin’s dating scene. Craig wasn’t worthy enough to check London’s coat at the door, let alone date her.

  It also made London’s current demeanor that much more jarring. Her normally imperturbable calm was absent.

  “I don’t know anything about dealing with hospital bureaucracy, but if you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to just listen while you rage a bit, I’m here,” Samiah told her.

  “Me too,” Taylor added. “A
nd if you need to work out some frustration, I suggest kickboxing. I’ll even be your sparring partner.”

  “Thanks,” London said with a strained smile. “Although sex would be a much better strategy for relieving my frustration.”

  “Sorry, can’t help you with that one,” Taylor said. “Tried it with a girl once and it just wasn’t for me.”

  She’d only known her a couple of weeks, but Samiah already knew not to be surprised by anything Taylor said.

  “Well, that’s enough about the bullshit I’m dealing with at the hospital,” London said. “What about you two?” She gestured to Samiah with the eggplant she’d just picked up again. “Anything interesting happen with you this week?”

  I wanted to make out with my coworker in McKinney Falls State Park.

  “Same old, same old,” Samiah answered.

  She was not going to feel guilty about keeping Daniel a secret. Honestly, what was there to tell? That they’d had lunch together? That she’d made him an ice cream sundae? That she’d spent every night this week dreaming about them screwing like bunny rabbits along the trails they’d hiked last weekend?

  Nope. Not gonna share that.

  But after much internal debate, there was something Samiah had decided to share with her two new friends.

  “Actually, I do have some news,” Samiah said, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “Remember when I said I was going to find a hobby during this six-month dating hiatus? Well, I’ve decided to use my time to work on something else. It’s something I’ve been toying with off and on for a few years now.” She turned to Taylor. “And I have you to thank for bringing it back to my attention.”

  “You are very welcome,” Taylor said. “Now what am I taking credit for?”

  Samiah surreptitiously sucked in a breath before saying, “I’m developing a phone app to help facilitate platonic friendships for people moving to new cities.”

  There. It was done. After years of keeping it to herself, she’d spoken the words out loud to other humans. There was no turning back.

  “Well, not just for people moving to new cities,” she further clarified. “It’s for anyone really, but the concept first popped into my head after I moved to Austin. You mentioned how hard it has been for you to make friends since moving here, and it reminded me about this idea I’d had. I think it’s time I see it through.”

  “I’d use it,” London said before popping a fried gnocchi into her mouth.

  “Umm…” Taylor held up her phone, a grimace twisting her lips. “Sorry to burst your bubble, babe, but there are a bunch of apps like that already.”

  Samiah shook her head. “Not like mine.”

  She expounded on the commercial element her idea would bring to the friend finder app market, using Taylor’s personal fitness venture as an example.

  “Holy crap, that’s phenomenal!” Taylor said. “I am so in! I want to be your first vendor!”

  “Give me a minute to actually create the app first,” Samiah said. She was damn near giddy at their enthusiasm.

  Her hesitancy at sharing her idea with anyone, even her sister, was twofold. Samiah knew once she broadcasted her plans, she would feel compelled to follow through with them. Not only to follow through, but to succeed at the highest level. She would not tolerate anything less than world domination. But there was so much more to it than that.

  Divulging the premise for the Just Friends app made it susceptible to being poached by anyone with a working knowledge of software design—or with enough money to hire someone with the knowledge. She’d built up a healthy measure of mistrust over the years, due in part to having her ideas usurped by coworkers like Keighleigh Miller. She counted every painful stab in the back as a hard lesson learned and had vowed never to let it happen again.

  She thought about Daniel, and how she’d been so close to telling him about her app during their time at McKinney Falls. Yet, even with this budding, several-steps-past-friendship thing slowly building between them, Samiah couldn’t risk sharing her idea with him. If she gave a detailed explanation about the technology behind Just Friends at this table, Samiah would bet her beloved Mustang that Taylor and London’s eyes would start to gloss over before she even got to wireframes and back-end structure. But a software engineer with Daniel’s level of expertise? He could have the app on the market before she had a chance to present it to a single potential investor. She couldn’t take the chance.

  And that’s why she needed to honor the pact she’d made with these two and put dating on the back burner. Getting involved with Daniel—with anyone—right now would only result in her not putting all her heart and soul into her app. If she was going to prove that she could do this, she couldn’t allow anything to distract her.

  And daydreaming about Daniel Collins had become one helluva distraction.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Daniel finished off the final number string, pressed ENTER, then sat back in his chair as he watched the coding he’d worked on all morning materialize into a flawlessly designed personnel management portal for one of Trendsetters’ smaller clients. Who would have thought accounting software could be so damn sexy?

  The rush he experienced had become familiar in the time since he’d started this job. This was his twenty-second undercover operation with FinCEN, but it was the first that had allowed him to do the kind of work he would have been doing if he’d chosen another career path. It wasn’t too late. If he stepped away from his job with the Treasury Department, Daniel had no doubt he would have his pick of positions at some of the top firms in the country. That wasn’t cockiness, that was knowing what he brought to the table. With the experience he’d gained working for FinCEN, along with his military background, he could command a quarter million a year and potential employers would consider it a bargain.

  But it just wasn’t in his heart. He appreciated the opportunity to sit at this computer every day and indulge in his first love, but duty to country had been instilled in him at an early age. He could never be truly happy if he ignored that call to serve.

  “Hey, Daniel, did you hear what happened to Mike?”

  He looked up from his monitor to find Jerry Johnson standing before his desk with the wide-eyed excitement of someone who’d had too much coffee and not enough sleep.

  “Umm, no. Who’s Mike again?”

  “Mike Epsen. Tall guy with the glasses.”

  He’d just described one-third of Trendsetters’ workforce, but okay.

  “I think I know who you’re talking about,” Daniel lied. “What happened to him?”

  “Got hit by a bus.”

  He blinked. Hadn’t been expecting that. “Excuse me, he what?”

  “I guess I should say his bike got hit by a bus. It clipped the rear tire and sent him tumbling onto the side of Barton Springs Road.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Six broken ribs, broken collarbone, and more bruises than they can count, according to his wife.”

  Damn. Must have been a hell of a fall. “With all the bike lanes here, you’d think a bike rider would be safe,” Daniel commented.

  “I know right?”

  The crazed, wired look in old Jerry’s eyes was starting to freak him out.

  “Well, thanks for letting me know, man,” Daniel said. “I appreciate it.” He pointed at his computer screen when Jerry didn’t make a move to leave. “I need to get back to this.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. I’ve gotta get back to work too.”

  Daniel had just donned his headphones in hopes of dissuading the Jerry Johnsons of the office from bothering him further when his cell phone rang. The ringing abruptly stopped, then was immediately followed by a text message:

  Sorry, right number. HQ

  It was the code he and his counterpart back at FinCEN, Preston August, had devised to alert the other when there was an urgent need to connect. The HQ meant that he was to call FinCEN’s headquarters in Virginia.

  Daniel grabbed his jacket and told Jamie at the f
ront desk that he needed to make a quick run to the convenience store across the street. He’d come up with a list of excuses to leave the office in case of emergencies such as this one. It wasn’t easy. Trendsetters provided so much for their employees that his usual excuses—latte runs, a need for over-the-counter meds, even trips to the post office—weren’t applicable.

  Once outside, Daniel used his encrypted cell to call into headquarters. He asked to be patched into Preston’s phone, pacing back and forth between two parking meters as he waited.

  “August,” Preston answered after several intermittent beeps.

  “It’s Collins. What’s up?”

  “Vegas is going to happen.”

  Daniel stopped walking. His heart began to pump at twice the normal rhythm. “How do you know?”

  “How do you think I know?” came Preston’s sarcastic reply. Guess it paid to be married to the daughter of the head of the org’s enforcement division.

  “Don’t hold me to this,” Preston continued. “But I’m pretty sure it’s between you and Bryce when it comes to the lead. If you want this job—and you want this job, Daniel—you need to get Austin wrapped up ASAP. I gotta go,” he finished, ending the call without giving Daniel a chance to respond.

  Waving away exhaust from a passing souped-up dual cab pickup truck, Daniel perched on one of the steel bollards that lined the sidewalk in front of the building and stared down at his phone.

  Vegas was the one he’d been waiting for since he’d started at FinCEN two years ago. Rumors of money laundering between an intricate network of off-the-strip casinos, bail bondsmen, and check-cashing outfits had been floating around since before he joined the bureau. It was the kind of job that made an ordinary agent a legend.

  He wanted it. God did he want it.

  And he didn’t want Bryce to get it.

  “That asshole,” Daniel snorted.

  He couldn’t even hear the man’s name without getting pissed. Bryce Stewart had been his nemesis since the day Daniel started at FinCEN, which had been only three months after Bryce signed on. Top of his class at Annapolis, then on to Pitt where he’d finished with a perfect record, Bryce strutted around FinCEN with his chest out, like the rest of them should be grateful that he’d deigned them worthy enough to work with.