Page 4 of Anti-Player

Chapter Two

Mikel

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I've always been toldhard work pales next to big dreams.

That's bullshit.

I didn't grasp that until I found myself listening to a beautiful 3D generated woman trashing a device I'd spent months being told was pure genius. That should have been my first hint; having every single person who worked for me declare that the Secret Reader was beyond amazing and ready to go to market was a red flag I'd ignored.

I know that now.

And I'm ready to face that fact head on.

However...

I'm not prepared for the woman standing in front of me in a red bathrobe with a redder face. Oh, yes, she's stunned that I'm here, but not in a good way. This is 'about to call the cops' levels of shock. She reminds me of a younger, darker-haired Rebel Wilson, though when she opens her mouth there's no hint of an accent.

“Mikel Hause?” she asks, repeating my name back to me. Her hand is clutching the doorknob. I see it tighten until her knuckles are white.

Nodding, I say, “That's right.”

“You made the Secret Reader?”

“Yes.”

“And now you're here, on my front step, like a murderous stalker?”

“Yes—no!” I blurt, throwing my hands up in dismay. “I didn't stalk you.”

“Then how the hell did you know I lived here? You sent your toy to my post office.”

“Right. I understand your confusion.” Pointing over her shoulder towards where I can see the Secret Reader on her computer desk, I explain, “It has a default locator inside of it. It's connected to my phone so I can monitor diagnostics and other data.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh. I see. It's got a tracker in it.”

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