Reid wiped a drop of water that trickled from his wet hair down his forehead. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Yeah, you would. Which is exactly why Kuch bound you, me too. I can’t talk to you about the business.”
“But I’ve done a new dumb thing. Nothing to do with Plus.”
Sarina laughed. “Then I have all the time in the world. Spill.”
“I met someone and—”
“Wait. What?”
“I met someone.” He sat on his new sofa, realized he was still wet and stood again.
“Stop. What kind of someone?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Reasonable.”
He looked at the sofa. It was chocolate-brown leather. You could sit on leather wet, couldn’t you? “No it’s not.” Leather was supposed to be forgiving. He wanted to have a sex lesson about using furniture with Zarley on the forgiving leather.
“Dev says you’re not eating enough. Owen says you’re drinking. A lot. He’s worried. I’m worried. Dev wants to host an intervention.”
“I bought furniture.” A shitload of it. Nothing from Sarina. “I stopped drinking and going to that bar. I started working again. Planning. Nothing concrete yet, just ideas.”
“I’m glad to hear it. That sounds a whole lot more like you, except for the shopping part. No, hold on. You used a service.”
About which he was a little ashamed. It was an expensive way to shop. “Is there anything wrong with that? I wouldn’t have known what to buy.”
“Nothing wrong with it, you can afford it.” Affordability had never been what stopped him. It’d simply seemed unnecessary before Zarley. “What kind of someone?”
“A female kind.”
“Really.” Sarina’s voice did that kick at the end that told him she was doubtful.
“Yes, really. Is it so hard to believe?” He knew it was.
“I thought—”
“I was gay.” He’d always figured she thought that. Wasn’t the type of thing he could talk to her about.
“No, asexual.”
He sat. “As in didn’t like sex at all.” He rubbed his face, that was worse, wasn’t it? Much worse than her thinking he was gay or celibate. She thought he was incapable all round.
“Can you blame me? I’ve known you ten years and you’ve never so much as looked at anyone with interest beyond what technical skills they had and what you could do with them.”
He grunted. “I was focused.”
“To the exclusion of everything else.”
But not anymore. He’d only just noticed the hall runner matched the rug in the living room. “It was the right thing at the time. No detours, no time wasted. That’s changed now.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I miss you. It’s not the same without you. In lots of respects it’s better, it was the right thing and I’ll stand by that, but I, Sarina Eliza Gallo, personally miss having you around. I was like a damn puppy looking for you the first few weeks. Kept expecting to find you chewing someone out or sulking over your desktop. Pointing at me and saying, hire more women programmers.”
“I didn’t sulk. Did you hire any?”
“You so did. Not telling, but if I was, it would be yes, two.”