Page 16 of Anti-Player

Chapter Five

Paige

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Helping people.

A flippant answer from anybody else. From Mikel Hause? The man sitting eye-level on my rickety stool in his overdressed Monday morning outfit? It's the truth.

He means it down to his roots and I don't know why or how I know it, but I do.

The little somersault my heart does is a warning I ignore. “Help them how?” I ask.

Mikel breathes into his nose and exhales. I can smell his salt and spruce scent, though it was stronger earlier when he grabbed me by the shoulders. I hadn't wanted him to let go of me when he'd done it, but I'd asked anyway. Now, he shrugs and says, “It's supposed to scan handwritten words and read it back to people.”

“But who needs that?” I ask with a dubious smile.

“The blind, for one.” He reaches out and takes the Secret Reader from me, gliding his fingers ever so slowly along the length of it until my stomach tingles from watching. “Before you say audio books or braille or personal assistants exist, yes. I know that. But what if you have personal things you don't want to share with anyone else? Things you can no longer read yourself? What do you do then?”

“I don't know,” I whisper.

“Exactly. This?” He gives the device a loving pat. “This is the answer.”

“That sounds like a really specific situation,” I admit.

He looks straight at me with his lips in a hard line. “I never claimed to be trying to make a product for everyone. Just those who need it.”

A tiny prickle rolls along my spine while I sit there and absorb his words. This man is invested in his creation. Clearly, like I suspected, it isn't because he wants to sell a billion and make money hand over fist. The type of person he's catering to with the Secret Reader is in a mega-niche.

I wonder... I wonder where his desire to make it comes from.

Mikel smiles at me, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Tell me more, Paige. List more issues. I want to hear every single one and pick them apart until I'm dizzy.”

I smile back, but I'm the one getting dizzy.

Over the next two hours we hash out numerous problems I identify with his device. Mikel, to his credit, rarely argues. He bobs his head seriously while typing into his phone. He's engrossed in every word that leaves my lips.

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