Page 17 of The Mouse and the Maestro

“Do you really want to know?” she asked.

“In theory, yes.”

“He’s a website design consultant,” she said, using the cover story Ridge had provided for her. Blue’s job was classified.

“Poor,” Nick coughed into his hand.

“No, he sold an app,” Jane said.

“Which one?”

“Threeple.”

Nick sat up. “Are you joking? I love that one.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s an amazing ice breaker. Here, I’ll show you.” He pulled out his phone, touched the Threeple app, and it sprang to life. “I’ll put in me and give me a name.”

“Martha Stewart,” Jane suggested.

“Martha Stewart,” he agreed, typing in her name. “Look, my grandma was next door neighbors with her cousin so we’re three people apart. And if I put in me and Em.” He held up the phone for her because it made a little party noise of celebration. “It does that whenever you have a first gen connection to someone, no separation. I’d put you in but, you know, you’re off the grid and whatnot.”

“That’s kind of cool, actually. Seeing all the different ways you’re connected to people.”

“What’s the guy’s name? I’ll put him in and see if we’re connected.”

“Blue Bishop,” she replied. Nick gave her the side eye.

“Real name?”

“Real name. And he has blue hair and tattoos from here to here.” She touched his shoulder and wrist.

“Alrighty then,” Nick said. He entered the name and gasped.

“What?” Jane said, tensing.

“That’s so cool. It’s a hidden Easter egg. When you put his name in it brings up a picture of a wizard and tells you not to pay any attention to the man behind the curtain. Awesome. Now I really want to meet him.”

“Maybe you should go to New York with him,” she suggested.

“I’d show him a good time,” Nick said, and she laughed. “You should too, Jane. Let him see the real you, the fun you.”

“You know it’s not up to me. I hear normal words in my head, but then they come out like gobbledygook, like English is my second language and awkwardness is my first.”

“Anytime you get in a jam, pretend he’s me,” Nick advised.

“Are you suggesting anytime I don’t know what to say I should yell at him for cheating on me?” she asked.

“You never yelled at me. You just looked so…broken. Yelling would have been much better. Next time you can yell at me.”

She shook her head. “No next time, Nick.”

“You’re right. Next time, I’ll get it right and we’ll be together forever.”

“Why are you giving me advice when you’re such a complete and total disaster?” she asked.

“Because it’s much easier to see how to fix you than it is me,” he explained.

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