Jameson (Face-Off 4)

Chapter 15

Regan

Walking down the hallway at the Wells Fargo Center, I stop by the concession stand where I met Jamie only five months ago, thinking about how he seemed like such a nice guy. He was too good to be true and the complete opposite of the man I am still in love with. I wish I could hate him. Instead, I feel sick to my stomach, barely able to eat.

But I can’t cave into my desires. It kills me to avoid Jamie’s calls and leave his messages unanswered. He needs to feel the pain I’d felt every time he called last minute to reschedule a date or left me in a crowded restaurant to eat alone. If it were one time, I could have overlooked the constant humiliation of him standing me up.

Even if I answer the phone, I have no idea what to say to him. Does he even love me back? H

e’s persistent, I’ll give him that. For weeks, Jamie has called and texted, with his efforts slowing down as each day passes.

Is he starting to give up? Should I give in? Have we both suffered enough?

As I stare up at the sign, pondering if I should get nachos or a hot dog, Murph comes up from behind and taps me on the shoulder. I turn around to face him, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the FedEx envelope in his hand.

“This just came for you. It’s marked urgent,” he says, handing it over.

“What now?” I roll my eyes, as I rip open the envelope. “With Coach and Parker’s wedding around the corner, the guest list and their demands have been getting out of control. I can’t handle another strange request from one of these celebrities or player’s wives.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Murph says, staring at the piece of paper I remove from the mailer.

It’s a newspaper article. Flipping over the package, I check for a name.

I peek up at Murph, confused. “What is Foxy Developers? Do we have a contract with them?”

Avoiding eye contact, Murph glances down the hall, his behavior strange, even for him. “He said you would know what it means.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I think of the name. And then it hits me. I tuck the envelope under my arm and hold the newspaper article in both hands, devouring every word on the page.

June 23, 2017

The Philadelphia Inquirer

Local programmer scores big with R.E.G.A.N.

Jameson O’Connor, president and founder of Foxy Developers, has hit the jackpot with his new game, The Fallen. Based on a new artificial intelligence O’Connor calls R.E.G.A.N., The Fallen is now the most advanced first-person shooter game on the market.

That’s all I need to read before my bottom lids grow heavy, the waterworks spilling down my cheeks. “Jamie named his artificial intelligence software after…me.” I choke out the last few words, unable to hold back the tears of joy, clutching the newspaper article against my chest.

“I know,” Murph says, his voice low and soft. “I was one of his beta testers.”

“You knew about this?” My eyes widen in shock, and I smack him playfully in the arm.

He nods. “Yup. I’ve known for a while now.”

“What kind of friend are you? You should have told me what he was doing.”

“He didn’t want you to know until the deal went through. There was one point where he wasn’t sure if the company he sold the game to would go for it. His lawyer had to sort out a bunch of legal stuff to make it work. It was a real nightmare.”

“He did this for me,” I say, sobbing. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You can go tell him you love him back.”

“Tell him?” I glance down the hall, wondering if Jamie is hiding somewhere. “Well, where is he?”

“He said you’d know where to find him.”

Mulling over his words, I look at the stand in front of me, assuming this is where he means. But, then it dawns on me that while this is the spot where we’d first met, it’s not where Jamie had asked me out.