“What’s complicated about it?” Veronika asked. “You go in, you chat with Winter for five minutes, you leave.”
Lycan stared at his hands. “I just don’t want to.”
Though Lycan had just agreed to contribute money, Veronika couldn’t help feeling angry. It was a life they were talking about. Maybe this was why Lycan had no friends, because he didn’t know what it meant to be a friend.
“Rob, if I could make a suggestion?” Nathan said. He clasped his hands, leaned forward. “I care about Winter, but buying her an extra week in the freezer doesn’t do anyone much good. Use all the money we can raise to visit her yourself. Let her spend her final minutes with someone she knows and likes.” He bit his lower lip, shook his head. “Then let her go. I hate to say it, but I think we’re beat.”
Veronika nodded agreement. He was right—Winter’s final minutes were better spent with Rob, ironic as that was.
Finally, Rob nodded, though it was clear he didn’t like the fatalistic note in Nathan’s thinking. It was true, though. What could possibly change in four days, or ten, that would save Winter? Rob winning the lottery? A brilliant protest cooked up by Lorelei’s mother suddenly shifting public opinion? Sad as it was—and it was tragically sad—Winter was going into the ground.
Nathan stood. “Shit, I’m sorry, I have to get going.” He clapped Rob on the back. “You did everything you could, Cousin. You should feel proud—not many people in your shoes would have done what you’ve done.”
Rob’s breath was coming in shaky gasps. He may have nodded slightly to acknowledge Nathan’s words, Veronika couldn’t tell for sure.
“Well, have a good time.” Veronika managed a stiff smile. She was sure he was leaving to get ready to go out with Lorelei. Nathan didn’t hear her; he was deep in conversation on his system as he strode out of the apartment, clearly nervous.
“I should get going as well,” Rob said.
“There’s no hurry. Stay as long as you like,” Veronika said.
Rob stood. “Thanks, but I have to go to work. The more I earn, the more time I have with Winter.” He headed for the door, then paused, shaking his head in wonder, smiling grimly. “Well, at least I won’t have to rush my last visit. My anonymous benefactor just deposited fifteen thousand dollars into my account.”
Veronika whooped, almost pointed out that Winter might get a few days’ reprieve for that kind of money, but decided not to.
A pulse on Veronika’s wrist reminded her that she had an appointment in five minutes. A new client who was willing to pay her fifty-percent-up-front fee to coach a face-to-face on short notice.
Lycan was still standing in the middle of the room, his fists under his armpits.
“Well, I’ve got a meeting I need to focus on,” Veronika said.
Lycan looked up. “So, I guess we’re not going on my top-secret outing?”
She’d forgotten all about it. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I really need to give this client my full attention.” The truth was, she didn’t really feel like going. She couldn’t shake her resentment at Lycan for being so unwilling to help. Veronika wondered if he would have offered anything at all if she hadn’t flat-out asked.
Lycan was still there, making no move to leave. Her hint that he should go hadn’t been particularly subtle; the guy really was socially clueless. Now her choices were to either tell him directly that he had to go, or let him stay. He looked like an orphan, standing there. A big, dopey orphan.
“You can stay for a while if you’ve got nowhere else to go,” she said.
“Oh. Okay. I guess I’ll stick around. Have a good meeting.”
“If you want to play anything, feel free.” She uncloaked her interactive library and ducked into the bedroom. The wall shifted to expand the room as the bed submerged into the floor. She plopped into her trusty old flex-chair and pinged the client to let her know Veronika was waiting for access. This client was a persnickety one; she wouldn’t let Veronika have access to any of her personal data, said she just wanted real-time help with lines. It was a hell of a lot harder on Veronika when she had to jump in cold, with no context, no data on her client or her client’s companion. People just didn’t grasp that coaching was a science, and scientists worked with data.
The client pinged her back, authorizing Veronika to join them via cloaked screen. Veronika opened a screen.
Nathan was sitting across from her.
“It’s complicated. There’s a lot of Eastern philosophy involved,” her client was saying.
Lorelei. Her client was fucking Lorelei. That double bitch. Conniving attention whore.
There was a rap on her bedroom door. “Are you all right?” Lycan called in.
Veronika hadn’t even realized she’d shouted. “Fine. Go away.” Her heart was racing a thousand beats a minute. Her first inclination was to terminate, to leave Lorelei hanging. Though Lorelei wouldn’t be hanging—she had another coach who was probably feeding her lines at this very moment. So why had Lorelei sought out Veronika? Probably because Veronika knew Nathan better than Nathan did.
No, that wasn’t it, she realized. Or wasn’t all of it, anyway. Having Veronika as a dating coach was good theater. Although if Lorelei let her audience know Veronika was coaching her, Nathan would find out as well. Eight hundred viewers couldn’t keep a secret for three seconds.
Maybe she should uncloak her screen and show Nathan what Lorelei was up to. Surely he would be outraged.
Right. Nathan would ditch Lorelei the goddess in a fit of righteous indignation if he knew she was using his best friend as a coach. Outing Lorelei wasn’t a serious option anyway. Violating client confidentiality would be a serious breach of Veronika’s professional ethics. She could lose her job.
“So convince me,” Nathan was saying. He leaned back in his seat, waved a hand toward his chest. They were at Bluefin, a seafood restaurant with a glass ceiling under the Hudson River.
“All right.” Lorelei canted her head, as if she were thinking, though Veronika was sure she was just waiting for a line from her coach. “Every word counts in my life. None of them are lazy filler. I’ve committed myself to living a life others will find interesting enough to watch. I can’t lie around in disposable pajamas playing interactives.”
A rush of adrenaline shot through Veronika. Had Nathan told Veronika about catching her playing Wings of Fire? He wouldn’t. Not in front of hundreds of screens.
Nathan nodded, squinting like he was considering what she’d said. What her coach had said, actually. “I don’t disagree with that.” He leaned toward Lorelei, smiling. “So how do we make this moment worth watching?”
Jump in any time, Coach, Lorelei subvocalized to her.
Veronika had forgotten Lorelei knew she was there. Now was the time to tell Lorelei she was terminating the contract and refunding Lorelei’s advance, but…
There was a but there. What was it?
Lorelei had challenged her. If she terminated, she would be tucking tail and fleeing. She didn’t like to flee.
We could put on disposable pajamas and play an interactive, Veronika suggested.
“We could put on disposable pajamas and play an interactive,” Lorelei said to Nathan, her delivery flawless.
Nathan laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but I bet we could make it interesting.”
Well, what did you have in mind? Veronika sent.
“Well, what did you have in mind?” Lorelei parroted. It was standard flirtation; nothing fancy, but Nathan would eat it up.
It occurred to Veronika that she could use her familiarity with Nathan to subtly turn him off. But what could possibly turn Nathan off to this woman? Her face was a little too long, her lips a bit too full, her eyes a centimeter too big for her face, but the quirks added up to a face that was not only beautiful but fascinating. Veronika hated her, absolutely hated every molecule that comprised her.