Page 8 of The Geek and the Sheikh

"What's the matter? Hey, is that me?" he asked, leaning into her space.

She gave him a sweet smile and nodded.

"Yes," she said innocently. "You don't have very good money management skills. You are paying over thirty percent interest on some really frivolous purchases. You shouldn't have booked First Class if you couldn't pay cash for it. My-oh-my, your longest employment has only been six months, and I can understand why. How can you have a degree in Business Management and Finance and be so bad at it? Oh, never mind. You are a trust fund baby living beyond your means. Mm, your granddadisHarvey Lippen, president of a financial investment group based out of California. That may explain part of it, but not all. You had excellent grades until you started high school. When your academic performance drastically declined, your parents sent you to a prestigious boarding school in Virginia. You did a little better there."

Craig sat back as if a viper had bitten him. His eyes were enormous. Satisfied that he had moved out of her space, she closed the laptop. Craig's accountants could handle the situation. He wasn't a criminal, he was just irresponsible. The worst of Craig the Second's secrets were a few speeding tickets and terrible judgement.

She leaned her seat back and closed her eyes. Craig cleared his throat. Irritation flared inside her. She lifted an eyelid and peered at him.

"What do you want?"

He cleared his throat again. "Are you…. Who do you work for? Whoareyou?"

"Your worst nightmare if you don't leave me alone. I can send your expense reports to your grandpa," she replied.

She flashed him a brilliant smile before closing her eye. Her fingers curled around her laptop and she hugged it to her chest. She had already moved on from Craig. He wouldn't bother her again.

Midnight said that she was too trusting. She might not be good at reading people in the flesh like her sister, but she was damn good at reading their digital lives. Craig was a user. Everything and everyone was sacrificed in the name of 'fun'. It may have taken her slightly longer to learn that than Midnight would have, but it wasn't really a race.

Midnight's opinion of her social skills was based off information that wassoold by now. Things change. She could do this.

Junebug breathed deeply, trying to calm her mind. The stresses of the trip so far were catching up to her, like a tsunami she had been running from, and now that she was here and it was quiet....

Fear rose in her throat, threatening to choke her as the low hum of voices on the plane slowly grew louder in her mind. Her anxiety built along with the imagined noise until her right leg moved uncontrollably.

She thought of Jam-man. He was an island of tranquility in her rising panic. It was ridiculous to fall in love with someone she had never met in person, and a small part of her feared her overactive imagination and isolation had turned him into someone he wasn't.

But… he gets me.

At least, she hoped he did. He didn't know about her awkwardness around people. Or her constant need to fidget. Midnight was working with her on controlling it, but even now, half asleep, she was unconsciously tapping her fingers and feet. It was hard being still. Her body and mind hated it.

She moved her hand down to her thigh and bunched her rainbow-colored skirt in her fist. The breathing exercises weren't working. Nausea and an overwhelming need for air made her breathing shallow and uneven.

Hey, do you want to play a game?

Her lips parted at Jam-man's imagined voice. It was soft, but it disrupted all her previous thoughts and feelings like a stone tossed in a pond. Even though he wasn't really there, she clung to the memory of their hours of conversation.

She had been sixteen and sounded even younger when they first met. Afraid he would know she was underage and not want to talk to her, she had used a voice filter. He had never heard her real voice.

Her mom used to say she had a voice that was a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Marlene Dietrich. She hadn't known who either lady was until she looked them up. Both she and Midnight had fun teasing their mother with the comparison, but Rainbow had been adamant that Junebug had been a reincarnation of one or both of the ladies that she idolized.

Which game would you like to play?

Middle Earth Rising.

Junebug breathed deeply as she pulled each level of the game up in her mind and pretended that she was playing it alongside Jam-man. The process relaxed her. Her anxiety and the panic attack threatening to swallow her faded as she withdrew deeper and deeper into the complex levels. She focused on each move they had made, marveling at how in sync they were with each other.

He has my back, like I have Midnight's.

* * *

The ding of the overhead intercom system nearly eight hours later broke through her concentration. She worried her bottom lip as she stowed her laptop. Craig cleared his throat, drawing her attention.

"Listen, I want you to know that I've been thinking about what you said," he confessed.

She frowned. "What I said?"

He nodded. "Yeah, about making poor decisions. That's one reason I'm coming to London. I have an interview." He paused, then continued. "With some self-control, I could actually make this one last, you know? It's like... I knew about everything that you said, but it didn't fully register when I was living it. I always had an excuse. But it sounded really bad when you laid it out like that.... Ridiculous, even, considering my grandfather and my degree. I know that I can do better."

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