Page 86 of Ezra
“That’s me, but with mysteries! Nothing wrong with a girl being a geek.” Jayne nurses a drink of her own.
“I’m gonna go check on the boys.” Rashelle excuses herself, heading into the backyard where Washington—Deion—stands with several other men around a grill.
I look to Jayne and bolster my own nerves. I need to impress Rashelle, but Jayne is second on that list. She’s pretty much Ezra’s right-hand woman. “What’s it like, working at the ACU? With Ezra?”
“It’s amazing, and Ezra is fantastic,” Jayne replies. “He’s the best thing about working this gig, hands down. He’s just so helpful. I like to think we make our jobs easier. What might take me hours takes him just a few seconds, but I bring the humanangle to the mix and help him consider things he might miss as a bionic.”
“What’s your favorite part about working the job?”
“Getting out of the office and following up with witnesses,” she says proudly, lifting her cocktail to her lips and sipping. “Sometimes I visit crime scenes, but mostly, I go over evidence at headquarters and assist with analyzing forensic and other data. We’re a team like that. That way, Ezra can be on the move. Despite what you may think, he can’t doeverything. At least, not the way I do it.” She winks.
I don’t think I’ve seen a wheelchair like hers before. It moves with a simple swish of her wrist. That’s when I notice the silicone rings on her fingers, and the way they light up when she moves her hand. That must be how she controls it.
She catches me staring. I’m about to apologize but she shakes her head and chuckles. “It’s okay. Everyone’s curious. I was in a car accident back in Ireland. Drunk driver hit me so hard my seatbelt snapped, and I got thrown through my windshield. I lost function in my legs. Not a fun day.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that. That’s beyond awful,” I say, not wanting to bring down the mood by asking more detailed questions about the accident. I hope whoever injured her got a lifetime of prison for it. “It doesn’t seem to have slowed you down.”
“You find ways to keep busy, and with TerraPura causing this many problems, there’s plenty of work to be done,” she agrees.
“Jayne,” Rashelle calls from outside. “Stop talking about work!”
“That’s me told,” Jayne says sheepishly. “Rashelle says I’m a workaholic, and she’s probably right. So! You and Ezra. C’mon, tell me everything!”
“Oh, I?—”
“Don’t you dare pretend like there’s nothing going on. I could sense the sexual chemistry from across the city when he called me,” Jayne says. My head spins from how direct she is. “I hope you know how lucky you are.”
“I do, actually,” I insist, a bit embarrassed at her calling me out, but I try to roll with it. “He’s a wonderful person. As far as protective custody goes, it felt like it could’ve been a vacation, if I let it. Spending time with Ezra was incredible. I just feel bad because I’m sure him being assigned to me slowed the investigation down and put more work on everyone’s plate.”
Jayne brightens considerably. “You called him a person. I knew it! Iknewyou weren’t like those other mouthy whack jobs in the news—I had a good feeling, and I’m glad I was right.” She seems giddy. “And don’t worry about the investigation. We managed. But, hey, back on track. I’m a single pringle. I want to live vicariously, and you, lady, are not getting out of this. Tell me more. Who made the first move?”
“Ah—I suppose he did.”
“Ezra.” She whistles in surprise. “That’s new for him. You must really be special. Are you worried about Humanity First? How they’re going to respond to you, well, dating an android?”
I’m not used to being so open right from the beginning. At first, I want to plot an exit strategy back to Ezra. I can see him outside with Deion and a few other men by the grill. But then I steel myself. I knew these questions would be coming, and I feel like I owe his friends and loved ones an explanation, if I’m ever to stay on their good sides. “I’m a little worried, yes. Not of what people might think, per se, but because I don’t want our fight against Carnegie Steel and other big companies to dissipate just because I’m dating someone synthetic.”
“That’s a fair point.” Jayne hums. “Rock and a hard place, that. But I’m sure it’ll all work out if it’s meant to. Has he made any bets with you yet?”
“Bets?” I ask curiously. “No, not yet. I wasn’t aware he was the gambling type.”
“Try it sometime,” she says. “He can’t resist, because he thinks he’s always right, and he’s got all those numbers and odds and percentages rolling around his head like a super computer. But I’ve got luck on my side. I always win when we bet on something.”
“What do you bet on?”
“Usually things related to work. And when he loses, he brings me doughnuts.”
“That sounds like a best deal ever.” I giggle.
“Right?” Jayne beams. “Nothing’s better than a box of doughnuts. Except maybe chocolate croissants. Ilovecroissants!”
Before I know it, an hour has passed just discovering Jayne. The more we talk, we easily find common ground in everything from TV shows to music. Toward the end of our conversation, she’s whipped out her phone and stored my number, and we plan a lunch date sometime next week.
When Rashelle returns, she’s all smiles. “There’s more meat on the table. D went all out with the smoker. Help yourselves.”
I sit next to Jayne and enjoy bite-size portions of everything from brisket to homemade potato salad, corn bread, macaroni and cheese, and coleslaw, listening to everyone talk and laugh. Every American comfort food I could ever need is on that table, and if I’m not careful, I could eat as much as three men, like my days in undergrad when I could really pack it away and burn it off by just existing.
But not tonight. I need to keep things light.
