doesn’t work? Don’t the two of you have to be emotionally bonded to connect? What if you’re not? And what the hell is ‘emotional bonding,’ anyway? It sounds like something out of
Fifty Shades of Grey.
Why can’t they just say you have to be in love with each other?”
She was going to be stuck on this elevator with him forever.
“What if he’s ‘emotionally bonded’ to somebody else?” C.B. went on. “Like his secretary?”
“Ethel Godwin is at least sixty,” she said.
“Yeah, well, I can think of more mismatched couples than that who’ve found true love, but fine. What if he’s in love with Jan in Payroll? Or Suki? Never mind, bad example. If he was in love with Suki, everybody on the planet would know about it. What if he’s in love with Lorraine in Marketing? Or Art Sampson?”
“He’s not in love with Art—”
“Or what if the two of you only
think
you’re emotionally bonded? I mean, people think stuff that isn’t true all the time. Hitler probably thought he was a really nice guy—”
“What
is
it with you and Hitler?” Briddey exploded.
“Sorry. Side effect of spending a lot of time online. Internet conversations always involve Hitler. My
point
is, even if the EED works, it won’t necessarily solve all your problems, and in the meantime, it could create a whole bunch of new ones.”
“Thank you, I’ll take that into consideration,” she said. “Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Talk to you about?” he said blankly.
“Yes.” She looked up at the floor numbers again. “You said you needed to talk to me about something urgent. Or was Hitler’s deluded opinion of himself it?”
“No,” C.B. said as the P above the door lit up. Finally. “I thought of some more ideas for the Sanctuary phone. Like a photo function where if people send you photos of their babies and their insufferably cute cats, they automatically disappear into the ether.”
Like I wish you’d do right now,
Briddey thought, stepping forward to be ready the second the door opened. If it ever did.
“I also had an idea for a hanging-up app,” he said, and the doors slid apart.
“We’ll discuss it next week. Call Charla and make an appointment,” Briddey said, and shot through the doors and into the garage.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” C.B. said, catching up to her. “You know how in the good old days when you were mad at somebody, you could shout, ‘Good
bye
!’ and bang down the receiver, and it not only felt good, but it got your message across perfectly?”
I should have parked closer,
Briddey thought, accelerating her pace.
“And you know how now all you can do is click an icon, which isn’t nearly as emotionally satisfying? I’ve come up with an app that makes a really loud slamming-down-the-receiver noise.”
She reached her car, glad she’d put her overnight bag in the trunk and not the back seat.
“I haven’t worked out all the kinks yet,” C.B. said. “I want to make sure there aren’t any side effects I might not have thought of.”
Very funny.
“And speaking of hanging up, that’s another disadvantage of telepathy. There wouldn’t be
any
way to hang up on the other person.”
“For the last time, the EED doesn’t make you telepathic!”
“You don’t know that. That’s the thing with unintended consequen—”
“Look,” she said, opening the car door. “As much as I’d like to stay and explain the EED to you
again,
I really have to go. I have a meeting downtown—”
“You’re lying.”
She looked up at him, horrified. Somehow Suki had found out where she was going, even though she was sitting in a courtroom miles away. And if she’d told C.B., she’d told everyone. Including Facebook. And the Irish Inquisition would be peeling into the parking garage any moment. “H-how—?” she stammered.
“I can see it in your face, and the way you practically ran out here to your car. You can’t wait to get rid of
Fifty Shades of Grey.
Why can’t they just say you have to be in love with each other?”
She was going to be stuck on this elevator with him forever.
“What if he’s ‘emotionally bonded’ to somebody else?” C.B. went on. “Like his secretary?”
“Ethel Godwin is at least sixty,” she said.
“Yeah, well, I can think of more mismatched couples than that who’ve found true love, but fine. What if he’s in love with Jan in Payroll? Or Suki? Never mind, bad example. If he was in love with Suki, everybody on the planet would know about it. What if he’s in love with Lorraine in Marketing? Or Art Sampson?”
“He’s not in love with Art—”
“Or what if the two of you only
think
you’re emotionally bonded? I mean, people think stuff that isn’t true all the time. Hitler probably thought he was a really nice guy—”
“What
is
it with you and Hitler?” Briddey exploded.
“Sorry. Side effect of spending a lot of time online. Internet conversations always involve Hitler. My
point
is, even if the EED works, it won’t necessarily solve all your problems, and in the meantime, it could create a whole bunch of new ones.”
“Thank you, I’ll take that into consideration,” she said. “Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Talk to you about?” he said blankly.
“Yes.” She looked up at the floor numbers again. “You said you needed to talk to me about something urgent. Or was Hitler’s deluded opinion of himself it?”
“No,” C.B. said as the P above the door lit up. Finally. “I thought of some more ideas for the Sanctuary phone. Like a photo function where if people send you photos of their babies and their insufferably cute cats, they automatically disappear into the ether.”
Like I wish you’d do right now,
Briddey thought, stepping forward to be ready the second the door opened. If it ever did.
“I also had an idea for a hanging-up app,” he said, and the doors slid apart.
“We’ll discuss it next week. Call Charla and make an appointment,” Briddey said, and shot through the doors and into the garage.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” C.B. said, catching up to her. “You know how in the good old days when you were mad at somebody, you could shout, ‘Good
bye
!’ and bang down the receiver, and it not only felt good, but it got your message across perfectly?”
I should have parked closer,
Briddey thought, accelerating her pace.
“And you know how now all you can do is click an icon, which isn’t nearly as emotionally satisfying? I’ve come up with an app that makes a really loud slamming-down-the-receiver noise.”
She reached her car, glad she’d put her overnight bag in the trunk and not the back seat.
“I haven’t worked out all the kinks yet,” C.B. said. “I want to make sure there aren’t any side effects I might not have thought of.”
Very funny.
“And speaking of hanging up, that’s another disadvantage of telepathy. There wouldn’t be
any
way to hang up on the other person.”
“For the last time, the EED doesn’t make you telepathic!”
“You don’t know that. That’s the thing with unintended consequen—”
“Look,” she said, opening the car door. “As much as I’d like to stay and explain the EED to you
again,
I really have to go. I have a meeting downtown—”
“You’re lying.”
She looked up at him, horrified. Somehow Suki had found out where she was going, even though she was sitting in a courtroom miles away. And if she’d told C.B., she’d told everyone. Including Facebook. And the Irish Inquisition would be peeling into the parking garage any moment. “H-how—?” she stammered.
“I can see it in your face, and the way you practically ran out here to your car. You can’t wait to get rid of
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