I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

  “You haven’t had the best luck either, you know.”

  “Yeah.” He seemed to have more to say and Ken waited him out. “You ever think about fucking Hal or Trace?”

  “If your question is have I ever jerked off over my friends, yeah. Not gonna lie. But Trace is straight, and while I know Hal is a little loosey-goosey at times, he’s never indicated to me that he’d be open to more.”

  Steve arched an eyebrow. “I think I know how to remedy that.”

  “How?”

  “Tequila and our new hot tub.”

  “You want us to get them drunk and horny?”

  “Trace’ll fuck an electric socket, he gets drunk enough.”

  Ken patted him on the ass to move. “I think we can find better ways to get back to our college roots than drunk-fucking our more straight-inclined buddies.” He headed for the bathroom, Steve following.

  “Not like that, but…think about it.”

  Now that Steve had put that thought in his head, however, Ken couldn’t think about anything but.

  He also wouldn’t deny they were very intriguing thoughts.

  Chapter Four

  Arden couldn’t get the four hunks out of her brain. If they were serious, and if they offered her a decent salary, this could be the start of her new career.

  Hot dang!

  Despite her exhaustion when she returned to the hotel room that night, she pulled out Ken’s business card and started to research the men. There were plenty of tech articles about the wunderkinds and their former company—including pictures—which told her at least they were who they said they were.

  And they had the chops to back up what they were saying.

  She pulled up her resume and went through it, updating the information about her current school level and classes taken, as well as the information about Kraiges Technologies and her responsibilities there. Once she’d proofread it, she attached it and the letter of recommendation from Ben Massington to an e-mail, and tried to calm her shaking fingers as she composed a cover letter, double-checking the spelling of their names with one of the articles as she did.

  Dear Mr. Rossi,

  I enjoyed meeting you and Mr. Huffe, Mr. Chaudhary, and Mr. Larsson tonight. As we discussed, here are my current resume and a letter of recommendation from Ben Massington, who was my direct supervisor at Kraiges Technologies. My cell number is 941-248-5555, and I’ll text you in the morning as you directed…

  She included a brief statement about her current class and work schedule at the restaurant so he had an idea of when she was available for an in-person interview. Anytime tomorrow would be best, since she was supposed to have been at the internship.

  After her shower, she stretched out in bed.

  Guess you were right, Granny. Good girls do eventually come out on top.

  She needed to get to sleep. Tomorrow she was meeting Allie at nine, then would have to arrange for a storage unit…

  Poop.

  Okay, this, too, would pass. Just a hiccup. Door closing and a window opening, all that garbage. Annoying, but in the grand scheme of things it might mean something way better in the long run.

  And I won’t tell those guys what a mess my personal life is, either. Don’t need them thinking I’m some sort of train wreck.

  * * * *

  The next morning, Arden stood in Allie’s backyard and stared at the RV, stunned into silence.

  “Well?” Allie asked. “Don’t you want to go inside?”

  Arden had thought maybe it’d be an old Winnebago or something. Maybe with a tarp pulled over the top to keep it from leaking.

  Something.

  This…

  She swallowed. “Two hundred a month, huh?” she asked, barely able to pull air into her lungs to form the words.

  Allie’s brow furrowed. “Too much? I don’t mind doing it for one-fifty, if you need a cushion.” She opened the door for Arden and went in ahead of her. “Come on.”

  Arden swiped her feet on the mat just under the steps, then wiped them a second time, knocking her boots against each other and hoping there weren’t any dirt clods stuck in the treads.

  The RV sat parked on a concrete pad under a pole barn structure. And it wasn’t just an RV.

  It was a huge, new, mint-condition Airstream coach that looked like it’d never seen a road before, much less been driven on one.

  Inside was nicer than any place she’d ever lived or stayed in her life. To the point she was nearly afraid to touch anything.

  “No, it’s not too much. I…I just had no idea.”

  Allie giggled. “Present from my parents. They’d only had it a couple of months when my dad had his heart attack. They didn’t want the hassle of selling it, and Mom’s terrified to travel like they used to now, so they literally gave it to us. My husband gets hives at the thought of driving it on the road. Has less than ten thousand miles on it.” She sat on the sofa. “Now you see why I can’t get my freaking in-laws to go home when they come down. This is nicer than a lot of hotels.”

  “Yeah, it is.” She looked around. “Dang. You sure two hundred is enough?”

  “Oh, yeah, absolutely. And you can pull your bike around and park under the barn with it. Plus I’ll give you a key to the utility room door, so you can do your laundry here.”

  Arden wiped at her eyes. “Allie, I…I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say.”

  She patted the couch next to her. “Hey, Denny, you’re doing me a favor. I love my in-laws, don’t get me wrong, but I love them more when they’re not here. This way, they have to stay in our guest bedroom.”

  She sat next to Allie, still stunned as she stared at the interior. “But isn’t that kind of counter-intuitive?”

  “Nah. Then they won’t stay more than a week. She’s allergic to dogs, and we all start getting on each other’s nerves when we’re stuck in the house together. Hubby can tolerate them nearly forever when they’re living out here. Not so much if they’re under the same roof. Then his limit is about four days before he gets reeeeeallly cranky.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah. Sooo…you in? I printed up a lease thingy and changed it so if you want to move there’s no penalties or anything.”

  “Yeah. When do you need the money? I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get my security deposit back.”

  “No worries. I know you’re good for it. Come on—I’ll show you around.”

  Fortunately, Arden had remembered to text Ken Rossi before she’d left the hotel. By the time she left Allie’s, she could barely think. The RV was probably more square footage than even her small efficiency apartment. It was just laid out differently.

  Okay, Granny. You were right.

  By the time Arden returned to the hotel, she had a text message from Ken Rossi.

  4pm today work for you?

  Followed by an address and a four-digit gate code.

  That’s perfect, thanks.

  She Googled the address and found it was a house in an expensive gated golf course subdivision.

  Oh, fudgeballs.

  Well, hopefully no one would mind she rode a motorcycle. At least it wasn’t any louder than a car.

  And if they pay me decent money, I’ll be able to buy a car in a few months.

  Her next stop was the apartment complex, to arrange to move out and get her security deposit back. Allie and her husband would help her move on Saturday morning. At least she didn’t have a lot of things to move. If it wasn’t for her bed, table, and couch, they could easily move her stuff in one pick-up truck load.

  Then Arden rented a storage unit close to Allie’s, and before she knew it, she was heading to her interview. She’d tucked a blazer into her trunk, and wore a decent blouse, but she wasn’t going to try to wear slacks and dress shoes on her bike. She always took clothes to change into when working at the restaurant, and changed back into her riding gear before leaving.

  Jeans it is.

  Just as she’d feared, the gated community
was ritzy. She nearly lost her nerve when she pulled up to the kiosk at the front entrance to punch in the gate access code. She easily found the house, located at the end of the street. There were two cars parked in the large driveway.

  She parked at the end of the driveway, turned sideways so she wouldn’t be rolling downhill when she left. Then she quickly changed into her blazer, tucking her riding jacket into the trunk. While she didn’t think theft would be a problem, she carried her helmet with her because she couldn’t afford to replace it right now, and she damn sure didn’t want to lose it.

  Before she made it to the front door it opened, and Ken Rossi stood there waiting for her with a smile. “Right on time.” He shook hands with her.

  “Am I okay parked where I am?”

  He seemed to finally see her helmet and peered around her, his eyes widening. “You ride a bike?”

  “Yeah. Sorry I’m not dressed more professionally right now, but kind of hard to when riding. I’ll bring office clothes with me and change once I’m at work. Kraiges Technologies allowed jeans, but if you—”

  He laughed, cutting her off. “You are too funny. We’re casual around here. Jeans or shorts are fine. Once we’re in an actual office, jeans work. Come on into the war room and let’s sit and talk.”

  He led her inside, closing the door after her. There was no furniture yet, nothing on the walls. But when they walked through the enormous house into what was likely meant to be a large dining room area, there were two folding tables set up there and four folding chairs, three of them occupied.

  “Please excuse our lack of real furniture,” he said. “We’ll be moving stuff over from storage. Today we had to get the internet and cable hooked up.”

  The other three men looked up, instant smiles for her as they all stood and shook hands with her. Her first impression of them last night hadn’t been wrong. They were all handsome in their own way, and she knew from the bios she’d read of them that they were all in the thirty-four, thirty-five age range, ten years older than her.

  Ken gave her the vacant chair, which she guessed had been his from the way it’d been positioned in front of a laptop on the table.

  “Let’s get down to the nitty-gritty,” he said. “Our next project still remains to-be-determined. This is the start of that, and it’ll work in phases. Phase one is we get moved in, and get up and running as a team to start the brain work. That’ll all be done here.” He swept his arms around, indicating the room. “It’s how we succeeded the first time.”

  “Except that was a tiny-ass apartment,” Hal joked.

  “True,” Ken said. “We’ve been able to upsize this time around. We’re no longer starving college kids, so we can take our time. But we all shared an apartment, and that secret sauce helped us do what we did.”

  She’d read about that, too, when perusing the stories about them.

  “Before we move into an actual office, we will add a few key personnel, while still working out of here. But at first you will be our only ‘employee.’ We’ll also need you to sign an NDA for us.”

  “I have no problem with any of that, but I’m still not sure what I’m going to be doing.”

  “A little of everything, at first. Being the wall we bounce ideas off of, helping us break what we create to find the bugs, helping create stuff, helping us with project management and keeping us on task.”

  “A little bit nanny and a little bit AA,” Steve teased.

  “For the most part,” Ken continued after shooting him a look, “it’ll be Monday through Friday, and we can be flexible on the hours. None of us are really morning people, so if we don’t get cranking until ten and work until six or seven, that’s actually prime hours for us. Like I said, we’d work around your class schedule. So if you want to make up time by staying later or working weekends, we’re cool with that, too. When do you graduate?”

  “Six weeks. Well, six weeks until end of semester, and graduation is a couple of weeks after that, I guess. I mean, I wasn’t going to actually attend it.”

  All four men looked shocked. “Why not?” Trace asked. “You’ve earned it.”

  “Because it’s extra expense to rent a cap and gown and stuff. Not like I have anyone to come watch me walk.”

  Shoot. She hadn’t meant to get personal.

  “Anyway,” she quickly added, not leaving space for them to reply, “all I need is the diploma. That’s all I care about.”

  Ken seemed to grok she didn’t want to discuss personal stuff. “Well? What do you think?”

  “We haven’t talked pay yet.”

  “Forty thousand to start,” he said. “Once you’ve graduated, we’ll discuss a raise. We’ll pay you weekly. Two weeks paid vacation, and ten paid family leave days a year. Paid major holidays off.”

  Her eyes nearly bugged out. Maybe it wasn’t the most someone could make in IT, but considering she was barely scraping by right now, and would be fresh out of school, it might as well be a fortune.

  And paid leave time?

  “When can I start?” she asked.

  Chapter Five

  Once Ken had seen Arden out, Trace relaxed. There was something about Arden that turned his crank hard.

  Except rule one between them—they didn’t screw their work up for a relationship. And since she’d be working with them, that meant she was firmly off-limits.

  Besides, they were finally getting back to doing what he lived for—working. He wasn’t about to waste time screwing around and distracting himself. They were finally getting back to the basics.

  Upscaled and well-funded basics, but same thing, only better.

  This was them, and as they’d started setting up the online server they’d purchased, including installing project management and incident ticket tracking software, he felt really energized for the first time in a couple of years.

  Part of him wished they’d never sold Collidezkope, kept it private, continued to run it. Except they wouldn’t have been able to give it the kind of success it now enjoyed. They didn’t have the capital then, and unless they’d taken VC money, which they hadn’t wanted to do, they never could have taken it to the next level.

  No, it made sense to release their baby into the wild so it could grow and mature.

  The trick now was to replicate their success.

  While empty and echoing, the house was already starting to feel like home. Their home.

  There was plenty of room for them. The living room and smaller off-set den areas would be TV and gaming spaces. They each had their own room and en suite bathroom. The kitchen was huge, with a breakfast bar counter.

  The Wi-Fi worked out on the lanai, meaning they could escape out there, if they wanted a little quiet.

  And the neighborhood was quiet. Even in the morning there wasn’t a lot of noise, other than lawn equipment as landscaping companies mowed and performed yard maintenance.

  A far cry from the constant hum of traffic and humanity, even out on Long Island.

  It was…an adjustment.

  One he was glad they’d made.

  Sure, he’d thought it was a crazy idea when he’d come up with it, but his grandparents had loved it down here, and he remembered winters coming to Sarasota and being able to play in the Gulf where you’d freeze a limb off if you got close to the Atlantic. Seventy-degrees and sunny here, and in the thirties with a dreary sky and slush on the ground in New York.

  This was where he wanted to be, and he knew the other guys would quickly learn to love it.

  How perfect that they’d found Arden to work for them? Even more proof this was meant to be.

  Like they were on the right track.

  “Okay?” Steve asked.

  Only then did Trace realize Steve had been talking to him. “Huh?”

  “Move the first load in tomorrow morning?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Daydreaming.”

  “Save it for the bullpen, stud,” Steve teased. “Let’s head back to the hotel.”

  He realized
Ken and Hal weren’t there. “Where’s the others?”

  “Man, you really were out of it. They just left. They’re going to stop by the storage place and book a truck for in the morning.”

  “Wow.” He glanced at his phone. “Sorry. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.” He shut his laptop and shoved it into his backpack.

  Steve frowned. “You all right?”

  “Dying to get back to work, that’s all.” It was his car, so Steve had been stuck there with him. Ken and Hal had ridden in Ken’s car, and it was now gone.

  They locked up the house. “We need an alarm system,” Steve said as he looked around. “A good one, not one of those fifteen-dollars-a-month cheap-ass ones. I mean, yeah, gated community and all, but I want one. We’re going to be setting up sensitive data. We don’t need shit being trashed by some stupid kids skipping school or something.”

  “I have a company in mind. I’ll call them in the morning and make an appointment.” He set his backpack in the backseat and they headed out.

  “Kind of cool she rides a motorcycle, huh?” Steve asked.

  “Yeah. And that’s a big bike, too, considering how short she is.”

  Steve dropped into a version of a British accent that many people who didn’t know him frequently expected him to have. “She’s an enigma, isn’t she?”

  Trace rolled his eyes. “She’s our AA, and maybe she’ll help us make history.”

  Steve nudged him with his elbow, smiling as he dropped the accent. “Let’s hit that dungeon this weekend.”

  Trace frowned. “We don’t have anyone to go with. I don’t want to be some creeper.”

  “Nah, they have a rope class on Saturday. Suspensions.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thought you weren’t interested in going when Hal told us about it?”

  Steve shrugged. “Been thinking about it. Looked up their website. It’d be nice to have a social life for a change. And I’m not talking about actively looking to date, either,” he quickly added before Trace could protest. “I mean we can’t spend all our time working just because you’re a damn workaholic who gets off on it. We need time to recharge a little every week. And we need friends we don’t have to worry are after us for trade secrets, or think they can sponge off us. How long since we could trust people, other than each other, to be real friends?”