Page 17 of What If It's You?

I dashed over to the nightstand on my side of the bed, yanking the phone off the charger, grateful that my PIN was apparently the same across various lives. I opened my email app, clicking the icon in the corner to swap accounts—there was no way I wouldn’t have my work address synced on my phone. This was a different version of me, but clearly some essential core was the same, and my difficulty unplugging from work had to be part of that. Which…maybe I should examine at some point, but not this one.

But when I clicked to look for other accounts, there…weren’t any. Just a lonelyadd a new account?prompt and the laurel.d.everett gmail account I’d set up in high school.

Could I be using that for work? Could I be workingforGoogle?

But as I scrolled my inbox, the only emails showing up were a thread with my dad, a class confirmation from an aerial yoga studio, and promotions from half a dozen clothing brands.

Did I work somewhere…that siloed its email servers? Or thatforcedwork-life balance somehow? Did marketing jobs like that even exist?

“Everything okay?”

I glanced up from my phone, mouth still hanging open slightly, a strange buzzing in my ears. Drew was crossing to the dresser, towel around his waist.

“Um…yeah, just zoning out.” I squeezed my eyes tight, fighting the dizzy sensation overtaking me again.

“Are you sure? You look pale.”

“Actually…I don’t feel so good.” It happened to be the truth, if not the whole truth. “I might have to call out today.”

“Consider the call made.” Drew flashed me a boyish grin as he snapped his boxer briefs into place, then moved to my side, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. “You don’t feel warm…”

Ollie checks my temperature with a kiss. He claimed lips were more sensitive than hands, that they were a better way to tell if someone was running a fever. Over the years I’d gotten used to it, had reset my normal from a palm against the forehead to the soft press of his lips there. The feeling of vertigo intensified and I gripped the edge of the bed.

“Laurel? You lookverypale.” Worry corrugated Drew’s forehead. “Are you going to be okay on your own? I could work from home.”

“No!” The word bolted out of me too fast, and Drew pulled back, surprised. “I mean…that’s not necessary. I’m just gonna try to get some sleep, avoid screens for a while. Anyway, I know you’re not nearly as effective when you don’t have all your gizmos. I doubt they have the quantum computer set up for remote access, right?”

His frown deepened.

“We talked about the quantum computer?”

Shit, shit, shit. Why would I know this? I didn’t even work at Pixel anymore, had no idea how long that had been true…

“I mean…not in detail.” I started scrolling through my inbox, trying to make it look like I was looking for something specific. “You just said something about quantum calculations, or maybe it was physics? You know that stuff might as well be in cuneiform as far as I’m concerned. Whatever you said, I guess I just assumed you must be using a quantum computer to power the program. Pixel’s been developing them for a while, right?”

“That’s right,” Drew said, a hint of wariness lingering in his tone. “I didn’t realize that was common knowledge.”

“Notcommonknowledge. But I make a point of knowing what all the major players are working on. Especially the ones I used to work for.” That muchhadto be true in this life—it’s where we’d met, right?

Drew stared a moment longer, then exhaled half a laugh, crossing to the dresser again and pulling out a black T-shirt and dark jeans.

“Sometimes I forget how incredibly smart you are. Nice casual reference to cuneiform.”

“I know you’re the genius in this relationship, but I do alright.” I grinned, relieved to be on ground I understood again. This wasn’t all that far off from our work banter.

“I should watch my back. Clearly you’re gunning for my title.” Drew returned my smile, rubbing the towel roughly over his hair before tossing it into a large woven basket so unobtrusively tucked into the corner I hadn’t recognized it as a hamper. “If I’m going in I should really get moving. But do you need anything before I go? I don’t want you pushing yourself.”

Tenderness gripped me—the worry crumpling Drew’s brow was obviously genuine, his hesitancy about leaving me palpable. I smiled.

“I’m fine, really. Probably just fighting off a bug. Go! Do your quantum geniusing!”

“Fine, fine, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” he said, smiling gently. “But if you feel even the slightest bit faint, sit down and call Barry for help, promise?”

“Barry?”

“The doorman?” Drew’s squint bordered on fear. “Laurel, are yousureI shouldn’t stay home? I can call around and try to get you an appointment somewhere, I have some friends at MGH who—”

“Drew, hey.” I laid a hand on his arm, and he swallowed hard, brows clearly still ready for a fight. “I’m sleepy and headachy and a little slow on the uptake, apparently. But I’m fine, I promise.”

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