CHAPTER SEVEN
Fallen Bytes never ceased to intrigue its customers. There were teas from all over the world, synthetics, infusions, any blend imaginable. Brad wasn’t sure what to order. Would Jeulmist want black, green, blue, yellow? He sat at a table facing the door, the only spot available. The joint was jumping. Luckily, most people were congregating around the bar when he snagged the table.
Talking to Jeulmist would surely kick ass. There were so many things he wanted to ask about. Was she a bona fide genius or just real clever with an easing fabricator system? In any case, her attention to detail blew his mind and he wanted to learn all he could from her. Before he started a longer mental list of questions to ask Jeulmist, Brad’s controller vibed.
>>I detect four Blue Roots in the vicinity
<<Would you like to connect?
He looked toward the door. Two guys with their arms around two gals entered. Brad smacked his controller. That had to be the tenth time it had vibed in the ten minutes since he’d arrived.
Scrolling through the menus, he searched for a way to turn off the generic detection function, but keep on the specific detection function. After scrolling for what felt an eternity, he discovered the name-specific function and set his controller to alert him when it detected Jeulmist. What a relief. It could get quite embarrassing if the darn thing kept going off every time someone walked through the door.
Hopefully, he hadn’t misunderstood the command and his Blue Root would still alert him when Jeulmist showed up. Although he enjoyed tea, sitting there alone at Fallen Bytes all afternoon was not on his list of favored pastimes. Maybe he should have invited Mike. What if Jeulmist turned out to be datable? Yeah, there was potential for her to dig some gold, but he’d never met a hacker who wasn’t interested in money.
Great. Putting her into that kind of perspective kicked up his nerves. Don’t screw this up.
Attempting to quell his sudden stage fright, he scanned the crowd. The usual group of youth with styles ranging from capecoats and scruffy hair to ripped jeans and mohawks lounged near the door. The college-aged crowd laughed it up in groups closer to the bar. And the older crowd catching some evening brew and company sprinkled everywhere from acting like parents of the kids to acting like children with their friends.
Brad had only arrived fifteen minutes early, but those fifteen minutes were dwindling. It would really suck if he’d been stood up. Nothing but unrecognizable faces filled the room. He looked down at his controller to make sure it hadn’t gone off without him noticing. No new alerts. Maybe Jeulmist had changed her mind. He pulled out his handheld and checked his email. Nothing from her. Just Danny sending his usual weird site links.
Pocketing his handheld, he glanced toward the door. Finally someone he recognized. Wearing a dark red body suit with shawl, the woman who’d sold him a suit walked through the door. Last time he’d seen her, she’d worn a tormenting mini-dress. This time, well, her body suit didn’t lie.
Wowie! Brad’s gaze washed over every curve. Hell, even if Jeulmist didn’t show up, maybe he could hang out with the suit lady. As far as Brad was concerned, she was gorgeous. Breasts so full his hands ached to touch them. Not to mention enough guts to give him a real answer when he’d asked his question about the Blue Root.
Her gaze met his and sparked of recognition. He grinned and waved courteously, figuring if she ended up alone there, he’d find the nerve to go over and strike up a conversation. She didn’t acknowledge him and instead wrapped her shawl around her, hiding too much of her luscious shape.
She looked toward the bar as though searching for someone in particular. Maybe she didn’t see him through the crowd. Or maybe she wasn’t interested. It wouldn’t be the first time an incredibly beautiful woman overlooked him in favor of a less geeky, better-looking man. Then, Brad’s Blue Root controller vibed.
>>Jeulmist is in the vicinity
<<Would you like to connect?
He scanned the crowd once more. The woman who’d sold him the suit was looking at her controller and smacking it off.
Was she Jeulmist?
She glanced around. He waved again and motioned her over while mouthing, “I’m Magneton. You Jeulmist?” He couldn’t find voice to speak up over the noisy tea bar din.
For a split second, she resembled a aardvark in headlights. But then she nervously looked past him like he wasn’t there, completely disregarding him and running in the direction of the ladies quarter.
Was it something I said?
Go figure. Brad March, super-geek and double loser as usual. Maybe crossing up with her the other day had bothered her more than she’d let on. But could she really be that annoyed? At the time, she hadn’t come off like she was upset. What had happened?
Right now, he felt invisible in every sense of the word. Like he didn’t exist at all to her. Maybe if she’d made a face at him or even screamed in terror. At least then he’d know he affected her.
Was there something wrong with the way he’d handled their messaging? No. He’d only marginally made an ass of himself.
Well, maybe she just really had to take a whiz.
But she had to come out some time.
