“What would our agreement look like?” I ask. I lean my shoulder against the wall. “Is that what you mean?”
She nods, her blue eyes fixed on mine.
“Well, we’d both go to the work parties. Together.”
“Okay. But for your events?”
“My mom’s going to host Thanksgiving with the family, and I know she’d be thrilled to have you join us. And then, if you’re around, there’s a Christmas Eve get-together. I can promise lots of awkward Locke-as-a-kid stories, but they come with a side of free booze.”
She laughs. “That sounds like fun.”
With her, it sounds better than I expected my holiday to be.
Then a thought crosses my mind. “Crap. Thanksgiving’s next week, isn’t it?” My forehead creases. “I know that’s super last minute. You probably already have plans.”
Greer fiddles with the sleeves of her shirt. “No, that’s okay. I’m staying local.”
“Really?”
She shrugs. “My family’s all on the East Coast. It didn’t seem worth using up my vacation days for such a short trip. And I didn’t make Christmas plans yet…”
“Really? Your family won’t miss you?”
She smiles wryly. “Oh, they will. But I’m also the black sheep in my family, which makes visits good in small doses.”
I’m so surprised, I can’t stop myself from blurting out, “No shit. How is that even possible?”
I don’t want to push my luck, but it’s hard to imagine the Greer who lights up a room as anyone other than a woman who makes her family happy, too.
“They just don’t know quite what to make of me. East Coast girl moved West. Writer and dreamer. I mean, my dad’s a doctor.” She waves a hand over her body. “I’m not practical.”
God, but she’s fun.
I crack a smile to make her feel better. “Well, that’s good. I reserve my exclusive Mills Family invites for writers and dreamers.”
Greer groans and her eyes fill with hesitation. “Are you really sure you want me to go to your parents’ house?”
“Of course I am.”
“That’s not a big deal, or whatever? To bring a stranger?”
The truth is, it does feel like something serious. In the twelve years since I graduated high school and have lived on my own, I’ve never once brought a girl home to meet my family. But somehow I know Greer can handle it. As for what my family will think, well, that’s their business.
I blow out a deep breath and make myself smile at Greer. “You’re not a stranger. They’ve heard enough about you.”
Shit.
I stop myself before I can say something more, but Greer’s eyes light up like I’ve given her a gift.
“They have?” She grins up at me. “Have you been talking about me?”
“Only the terrible things,” I tease. “Like how you drink enough coffee that your energy could power Seattle’s entire electricity grid and how you make me watch cat videos at least twice a week.”
She snorts. “Poor Locke. How truly awful.” She pauses with a smile. “So you’ll keep me company so I don’t have to suffer through conversations with Damien, and I’ll protect you from your vicious grandma.”
I laugh. “That’s the general idea.”
She nods, considering. “Okay,” she says at last.
“Okay?”
She shakes her head at me, but her eyes are happy. “Don’t make me second-guess this.”
I hold a hand over my heart. “Never. I promise.”
She grins back at me. “Alright. Then you have a deal.”
It’s Friday afternoon, and normally I’d look forward to the rest of the weekend, reveling in lazy afternoons and coffee shop trips and the joy of having nothing in particular to do. But now everything’s changed.
I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait for Monday.
5 Greer
I’m the first to tell you I’m not normally a Monday person, but ever since I agreed to Lachlan’s scheme, I’ve looked forward to this morning with a perverse excitement. I’m going to play this fake relationship like it’s all about making Damien jealous, and Locke never has to know I’m secretly on board because it’s an excuse to spend more time with him. As long as I don’t let myself get carried away, I’ll be fine.
Even my emails don’t seem quite as daunting when I make it to my desk. Dare I say, I even smile as I nurse my mug of coffee and read through the latest emails from our developer team. Research says that people form connections to their technology and anthropomorphize it, so adding a personality to our bot just makes sense. While Wanda is there to help people accomplish tasks online, we know that they also like to chat with her. The problem comes when people get a little too friendly with her, which is where this morning’s question from the devs comes in.
How do you want Wanda to respond to borderline pet names like “babe?”
At WanderWell, we do way more thinking about personality principles than most people probably imagine, but that’s why Wanda is unquestionably the best.
I mull over my answer and type up a few ideas, then turn to Locke for feedback.
“Mr. Mills,” I call, catching his eye.
Lachlan steeples his hands together under his chin. “Ms. Lively.”
I fold a smile between my teeth. “You have time for a quick question?”
“Always.”
His smile is warm and genuine, and I try to ignore the way my heart kind of flops a little.
Business, Greer. Think about business.
“I’m working on a scenario for Wanda and could use another opinion.” Locke nods, and I continue. “You know Wanda is supposed to be a fun, adventurous friend—humorous, lighthearted, and helpful. She speaks kind of informally, but I’m wrestling with how she should respond to the word babe. Reason being, we tend to give customers a canned response when they’re using overly flirtatious language with her. Because while Wanda is awesome, she’s not a sexbot.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “Sure.”
“So back to babe.” I toss my head from side to side. “Should we let customers call her that without giving them grief about it? Because, for example, I call my female friends babe, but we don’t know the customer or
