“I have a problem,” Leo whined to me as soon as I opened the front door. I shucked off my shoes and kicked them off to the side in the general direction of the shoe tray Leo had meticulously lined up against the wall. Lucie immediately came bounding over from wherever she’d been hiding and attacked them for offending her delicate sensibilities. Wisely, I ignored her, shuffling the bouquet of calla lilies in my arms to put down my work bag.


    Leo stood up from the couch with a strained look on his face, and I paused. First, he was home early, which was out of the ordinary. Second, I still wasn’t convinced he was fully recovered from his last LaShoul’s attack. I looked at him, quickly, scanning his face for any indicator that would tell me he wasn’t well. I didn’t know what specifically I should be looking for, but I’d know it if I saw it. It wasn’t there now, and I relaxed just a little bit.


    “Who are those from?” he demanded before I could ask what the problem was. His eyes were focused on the flowers in my arms.


    Lucie decided my shoes had been taught their lesson and moved to wind herself around my ankles. She trilled up at me, then yowled once, sounding like a demon possessed. Had I forgotten to clean her litter box? I hadn’t been gone long, maybe a couple of hours, just enough to walk around a bookstore and pick up the delivery of flowers at my job at Silver & Silk.


    I didn’t see Leo approaching until he snatched the flowers from me, allowing me to carefully extract myself from Lucie’s affection and sling my bag off my shoulder. He set them roughly on the dining table and grabbed the card attached.


    “‘Callie, Thank you for helping me find the perfect anniversary gift! I’m absolutely in love with the set. I can’t wait to show it off at my next big event. Jade,’” Leo read from the card, his brow furrowed. “Who’s this from?”


    “Jade,” I answered helpfully.


    “No, seriously. Who gave you these?”


    “Why, you want them? Lucie shouldn’t be around them. I think they’re poisonous to her.”


    “Callie.”


    I bend down to pet Lucie, who scrambled away, as if she hadn’t just been begging for attention. “Leo.”


    Leo fisted his hands, like it was a struggle to keep them at his sides.


    “If you have a significant other and didn’t tell me,” he ground out, “I’m going to be pissed.”


    The laugh burst out of me all at once without my permission. “Oh, please. You think I’m hiding an entire person?” I laughed again, covering my mouth with a hand like it would help muffle the sound. “Me? The girl who doesn’t make friends? You’re hilarious. It’s just thank-you flowers from a customer I helped last week. She’s a florist.”


    “What’s this on the back?”


    I instantly sobered and stalked over to him. “What do you mean, ‘the back?’” I snatched my card out of his greedy hands, flipping it over to see that there was indeed something written on the back.


    We have a support group for people with LaShoul’s. Hope to see you there.


    Below that was an address and time and date.


    support group? How had I not thought of that before? In all my hopeless research of medical studies and online groups, I’d never considered looking into an actual support group. For years after my diagnosis, it had been my obsession, looking into  and everything. Was sweaty palms a possible symptom? Did taking magnesium help recovery? It was only when I had fallen so far down the rabbit hole and mentioned to Leo how raw sushi was said to help the headaches the episodes brought on that he took my phone from me and held  hostage until I promised to give it all a rest and focus on the present instead of worrying about the future.


    Because that was his job, apparently, working with all this new technology.


    “You’re not going, right?”


    His question brought me back to the present,


    “Sure, mom, like I’m incapable of making sure this is legit before making a decision. And you need to tell me what the hell is going on with you. You’re acting weird.”


    Leo watched me type the address into the search bar, and a few pages down was a listing for a support group, like the card said.


    an old repurposed chapel based on the pictures, a bit out of the way, but the subway line ran close enough that it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience. As nice as it was to have Leo to joke around with, he always seemed so…hopeful. Maybe he would even be the one to create a new program that would figure it out. But he’d fully accepted that everything was going to work out eventually, and we would be absolutely fine. He was working on it, he would remind me.


    But I wasn’t so optimistic. I’d tried, in the past, to discuss my worries and fears with Leo, but he had gone and explained them away like I shouldn’t be feeling what I was. I didn’t know if he had meant to be reassuring or was just oblivious to the monetary divide between us and all that I would never have, but either way, from that day on I did my best to keep things light between us. There was no reason to drag him down with me, not when it seemed like maybe that hope was the reason why he kept trying. But…maybe talking to other people who possibly shared the same feelings I did about it all would be therapeutic.


    I made sure to hold my phone where he could see it clearly, and pointed at the screen helpfully. “There. See? All checks out. Now what’s your problem?”


    I tucked the card behind my phone case for safekeeping. It was a bit awkward, but until I could do a more thorough dive on this group, I didn’t want to risk losing the information.


    “Sorry,” he apologized, running a hand through his hair. “It’s this stupid work thing. My father was supposed to go, but he got delayed at one of our overseas branches. So, I have to step in.”


    My hand found his arm automatically and squeezed. “Oof. I’m sorry. When did you find out?”


    “Today. And the dinner is in two hours.”


    I frowned, upset on his behalf. “That’s unfair.”


    “The other part of the problem,” he said, looking at me with intent, “is that I need to bring a date. It’s expected, and if I don’t, they’ll think I’m not fully invested.” Immediately, I stepped back, already shaking my head before my brain could fully catch up to his unasked question.


    “You’re not bringing me,” I spluttered once the words and implied request registered. It didn’t matter that the reasoning was asinine. I would not go. “Absolutely not.”


    “Callie, please,” he begged, reaching out and grabbing one of my hands in both of his tenderly. “I know it sucks, but will you please help me? You don’t have to do much, if anything. Just sit there, smile, and make polite conversation.”


    “Leo, that’s so far out from my comfort zone, it’s a different planet.”


    His shoulders slumped in defeat, and I felt myself start to cave.


    Such a push-over. If he kept looking like a sad, lost puppy, I’d agree to go and hate myself the entire time.


    “I could probably ask around, see if anyone else at work could go with me.” He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts.


    An ugly feeling crept up into my stomach. I didn’t like the idea of going. But I also didn’t like the idea of someone else going with him instead. So even though I did not want to go, I picked what I thought was the lesser of two evils.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    “No, fine,” I sighed dramatically, laying it on thick. “I’ll go. You’d have to coordinate with someone else, and that could be a whole other nightmare. I’ll just do it. You are paying my rent, after all. You can consider this your payback.”


    “Thank you,” he beamed, wrapping me in a tight, quick hug. “Okay, so, you have something nice to wear? Do you need to, I don’t know, change your hair or anything?”


    I glanced down at my long strands, pinching a chunk between my fingers and inspecting it. “Do I need to?”


    “No, you always look pretty,” he answered easily. My stomach flipped, a warm feeling replacing what had clearly been jealously at his mention of another, theoretical woman. “I just want you to feel comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you can, given the circumstances.”


    I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be fine, Leo.”


    And I was, up until we stepped off the elevator on the top floor of a high-rise building where the very fancy restaurant was located. I smoothed out invisible wrinkles in the skirt of my dress and made sure the neckline was centered, giving it a little tug. When I glanced up at Leo to ask him if he was sure I looked appropriate, for the tenth time, he answered with a short affirmative and refused to look at me. I followed his gaze, taking in the luxurious splendors of the space in front of me.


    The smooth jazz, dimmed lighting, and sharp corners of the black furniture and mirror chandeliers wereintimidating. Even though I worked in an expensive jewelry and accessory store, this was incredibly out of my comfort zone. I could almost imagine the drinks being topped with gold leaf just for the aesthetics of it and not a single patron caring that it cost thousands. I hoped enough not to attract any notice. I wasn’t anyone special, just a girl too poor to afford this place and sure that others could see it


    “How many people are going to be here?” I whispered to Leo, up on my toes to get closer to his ear.


    Before he could answer, one of the men seated at a long banquet-style table stood and waved a hand in our direction.


    he across the room, garnering looks from other patrons.


    and walked over with a hand on the small of my back. as we neared the table with…eleven other people seated, not including the man standing.


    in a smooth tone I wasn’t used to hearing. “Apologies for our lateness. Unfortunately my father was delayed last-minute. I hope you don’t mind me and my good friend Calliope here taking his place for tonight.”


    Ew. He full-named me.


    “Of course not! We enjoy having you join us. You should more often,” Jack answered agreeably.


    Leo pulled out a chair for me, and I sat carefully. I smoothed my skirt again, making sure it wasn’t folded under my thighs.


    “Unfortunately, my work keeps me quite busy,” he offered as an excuse, sitting down next to me. “While the screens are finally out, it’s just on clinical trial, and there is still much left to be done.”


    “What do you have planned? Your father hasn’t shared much with the rest of us,” another man asked. It was clear he was a point of contention for him. He had to lean forward to be seen at the far end of the table.


    “These bio-screens are a work of art,” Leo began, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. “The technology is unmatched, and we have you all to thank for that. No other company is close to the level of sophistication we’ve achieved here. What we’re focusing on, right now, is more on the programming side of things. While the trials are running on a basic level to ensure safety and compatibility, I’m working on developing the programs further so they can do even more than they are now. We’ve just touched the surface of what they’re capable of.”


    “What, specifically, do you have in mind?” Jack asked, a hint of excitement in his tone.


    Leo’s response was interrupted by two servers coming by to take drink and appetizer orders. Leo ordered bruschetta, which he tolerated, but it was my favorite. I gave him a smile, reaching under the table to give his knee a thankful squeeze.


    Conversation drifted after that, touching on stocks and golf and other inane topics. Shortly after our drinks and appetizers arrived and our orders were taken, the one with the stick up his ass—Justin—brought up his unanswered question again.


    “Leo, I’d love to hear what you have planned with those bio-screens,” he said, leaning forward in his seat again.


    “Yes,” his partner, a thin woman with a pinched face, agreed. “It’s so…intriguing.”


    Leo nodded agreeably. “Right now, the screens are only programmed to record information from the human body. However, there is an entire world around us that affects us physically, mentally, emotionally, and everything else. One of my major projects is gathering data on external stimuli, how air quality, temperature, things of that nature impact the human body. Does each person have their own limits to what the body can withstand? Or is there a general range most people fall in, and those who have outliers are at increased risk or something?”


    “Is that the only thing you’re looking into?” Jack asked.


    “Not at all,” Leo answered with a quick head shake. “Eventually, we’d like for these to expand further to add day to day conveniences. Not quite to the point that phones are at, but being able to pay with it, send a message to someone. We’re considering its own system while simultaneously looking into the ability to connect to phones, similar to what watches do now.”


    “Everyone will want one,” Justin praised gleefully. “You do this right, boy, and you could surpass your father in greatness with this company. Just imagine the bonuses!”


    I bristled, going stiff in my seat. Did this man pay attention to the world around him? Did he even care about other people, or just lining his pockets?


    “Can you imagine how this will change the healthcare field? No more taking readings at intake for doctor’s appointments or emergency visits. Everything could be sent over to your primary doctor regularly, and problems potentially be diagnosed without even leaving your home. They could catch a heart attack or stroke early enough to save lives. Not to mention the potential for the other modifications, which I’m sure there are plenty more than Leo’s shared with us tonight.”


    I found every face turned towards me at my little outburst, and I flushed from my neck to my hairline. I opened my mouth to say…I don’t know what, but was saved by the servers coming around with our entrées.


    Leo nudged his knee against mine as plates were set down. When I looked at him, he leaned in and whispered, “Thanks. I know that you care about the well-being of people, but these people don’t think like that. It’s fine.”


    “But it’s not,” I hissed back, angry that these people were the ones in charge.


    “Why do you think I spend so much time doing what I do? Because if I don’t…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence.


    “It’s not right,” I answered.


    He gave me a wan smile. We both knew there wasn’t much we could do about it.


    I nearly scoffed. We. As if I was included in that. My job selling jewelry and accessories wasn’t worth anything to anybody, not really.


    And that was a shame. Because I’d once hoped to help other people. Not in the same way that Leo was, but my original chosen career had a purpose.


    This current job? None.


    “What is it that you do, ?” asked the man who appeared oldest, with age spots, sagging skin, and a slightly hoarse voice.


    Just fantastic. Thinking about my job and its objective uselessness to society must have projected out into the universe, saying ask the dropout about her job!


    I cleared my throat.


    , picking up on my surprise and coming to my rescue. “She really has quite the eye—”


    “Have you ever considered going into marketing?”


    I blinked. “Um. No?”


    He nodded, like he expected that answer. “You make a compelling point about the bio-screens.”


    I turned to glance briefly at Leo. Was this real life? What some major stockholder or whatever paying attention to me?


    “I think your take on things is refreshing,” he continued. “I doubt many of us here considered how it could help everyone, instead of only those with chronic conditions.”


    He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He searched for a moment before sliding a card across the table. A few people had to help it get to me, but when it did, I picked it up. It was his business card with his name—Nathaniel Waters—and his phone and email.


    I looked to him, confused.


    “You let me know if you’re ever interested in working on the marketing side of things for us. We could use someone with your open perspective.”


    “I, uh, thank you,” I decided on. Then, I shoved a bite of potato into my mouth so I wouldn’t be asked anything else.


    I kept my silence for the remainder of the meal, not wanting to bring any more attention to myself. I was here as a placeholder, and while Nathaniel and Leo didn’t seem bothered by my outburst, there were more than a few at the table who had given me incredulous looks.


    Leo said our goodbyes for the both of us before dessert to a chorus of weak protests, and again held his hand on the small of my back as we walked back towards the elevator. Once safely inside, doors closed, I sagged against the wall.


    “Damn, that sucked,” I said plainly.


    Leo chuckled low, shaking his head. “I can’t believe Nathaniel offered you a job.”


    “Right? I thought he was going to chew me out or something.”


    Leo considered, his gaze growing serious. “I think a few of them wanted to. I’ll have to talk—”


    I swatted him with the back of my hand. “You’ll do no such thing. I can’t imagine myself working there. No offense. But I won’t have to see them again, so what’s the point?”


    “They need to have more respect than that.”


    “I don’t disagree,” I answered. “But don’t create an issue on my account.”


    He was quiet as the elevator quickly descended, the doors opening before he said anything else.


    “Do you really never see yourself working at Farley Tech?”


    I sighed. “It’s not that I don’t find your work interesting or worthwhile. But I just can’t stand people like that.”


    “There are people like that everywhere you go,” he pointed out. “We usually never know.”


    “I know that, but there’s a difference now that I’ve met some of them. I can’t say to know them well, of course, but I know enough about enough of them that I don’t like it.”


    It was Leo’s turn to sigh.


    “Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know first. Sure, you could do whatever you wanted, including marketing, but promise to let me give you options first.”


    It was never going to happen, so I agreed easily with a, “Sure. No problem.”