Chris.
Uh-oh, Chris thought. He doubted Melanie would think so highly of him if she found him eavesdropping on her conversation. He started to inch toward the door.
“Chris? Einstein, Chris isn’t here yet.”
Yes, he is.
“You mean, he’s at the door?”
No. He’s behind you.
“Behind me?” Melanie turned and found Chris standing behind a bank of consoles near the door, looking decidedly sheepish.
He raised his hand in a halfhearted wave. “Hi.”
Melanie didn’t return the salute. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Not long.”
Three point eight minutes
, Einstein supplied helpfully.
“You knew he was here?” she accused the computer. “And you didn’t tell me?”
You didn’t ask.
“He’s right. You didn’t ask.”
Melanie whirled back to face Chris. “You’re in no position to defend anyone. I can’t believe you snuck in here like that. It’s, it’s—”
“Incorrigible?” he said, grinning.
Melanie stopped, realizing for the first time how long Chris had actually been there. And how much he’d heard. A blush crept over her cheeks. She looked down, making a show of gathering up the wiring she’d been working on. “The least you could do is apologize for eavesdropping.”
“I suppose,” Chris agreed, “but then I wouldn’t have heard all those nice things you said about me.”
Melanie shook her head. “You weren’t supposed to hear them.”
“Why?” Chris asked. He walked over to her, settling down beside her chair until his face was level with hers. Her hair was pulled back into its usual tight bun and her glasses hid the smoky darkness of her eyes, but she couldn’t disguise her sensuous, petal-shaped mouth.
“Why?” he asked softly. “Genius, what’s so terrible about appreciating my help? What’s so terrible about
admitting
you appreciate my help?”
“I didn’t say—”
“Yes, you did,” he stated, the gentle force of his words silencing her. Emotions played across her face, emotions at odds with her cautious scientific nature. Her lower lip quivered uncertainly, and he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her doubts away.
He didn’t get the chance. A burst of music filled the room, shattering the tender moment into oblivion. Rap music. The Rap Master pounded out his words, ironically talking about the joy of kissing his “special lady.” Chris fell back on his heels, uttering an oath of surprise or frustration, maybe both.
Melanie seemed to know exactly what was going on. She jumped out of the chair and threaded her way to the far side of the room. She reached down behind a floor unit and pulled out a radio, cutting off the power with a swift twist of her hand. The rap music faded into silence. The room lights flickered irregularly, but she ignored them. She pulled the plug from the wall and marched back to the console. “That wasn’t very funny, E.”
Too quiet. Morgue city. Wanted to liven things up.
Chris grimaced. If Einstein had waited a few minutes, things might have livened up all by themselves. E needed a serious lesson in timing. He got to his feet, trying not to disturb the clutter of equipmentthat surrounded him. His jacket had slipped off one shoulder. He shrugged it on again and felt the weight of the package he’d slipped into his pocket earlier.
“I picked this up on the way in,” he said, handing the red-wrapped bundle to Melanie. “I didn’t know you watched the Shopping Channel.”
“I don’t,” she said tersely. “E does.”
“Einstein? You mean
Einstein
ordered this?”
Melanie nodded sadly. “He has absolutely no self-control when it comes to TV shopping. He’s always buying presents for me. I’ve gone through every one of his software programs looking for the bug, but it’s no use. He’s a shopaholic.”
Bargains! Bargains!
E responded, backing up her words.
Chris didn’t know who was crazier: Melanie for creating a bargain-hungry electronic brain, or himself for believing she’d created a
Uh-oh, Chris thought. He doubted Melanie would think so highly of him if she found him eavesdropping on her conversation. He started to inch toward the door.
“Chris? Einstein, Chris isn’t here yet.”
Yes, he is.
“You mean, he’s at the door?”
No. He’s behind you.
“Behind me?” Melanie turned and found Chris standing behind a bank of consoles near the door, looking decidedly sheepish.
He raised his hand in a halfhearted wave. “Hi.”
Melanie didn’t return the salute. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Not long.”
Three point eight minutes
, Einstein supplied helpfully.
“You knew he was here?” she accused the computer. “And you didn’t tell me?”
You didn’t ask.
“He’s right. You didn’t ask.”
Melanie whirled back to face Chris. “You’re in no position to defend anyone. I can’t believe you snuck in here like that. It’s, it’s—”
“Incorrigible?” he said, grinning.
Melanie stopped, realizing for the first time how long Chris had actually been there. And how much he’d heard. A blush crept over her cheeks. She looked down, making a show of gathering up the wiring she’d been working on. “The least you could do is apologize for eavesdropping.”
“I suppose,” Chris agreed, “but then I wouldn’t have heard all those nice things you said about me.”
Melanie shook her head. “You weren’t supposed to hear them.”
“Why?” Chris asked. He walked over to her, settling down beside her chair until his face was level with hers. Her hair was pulled back into its usual tight bun and her glasses hid the smoky darkness of her eyes, but she couldn’t disguise her sensuous, petal-shaped mouth.
“Why?” he asked softly. “Genius, what’s so terrible about appreciating my help? What’s so terrible about
admitting
you appreciate my help?”
“I didn’t say—”
“Yes, you did,” he stated, the gentle force of his words silencing her. Emotions played across her face, emotions at odds with her cautious scientific nature. Her lower lip quivered uncertainly, and he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her doubts away.
He didn’t get the chance. A burst of music filled the room, shattering the tender moment into oblivion. Rap music. The Rap Master pounded out his words, ironically talking about the joy of kissing his “special lady.” Chris fell back on his heels, uttering an oath of surprise or frustration, maybe both.
Melanie seemed to know exactly what was going on. She jumped out of the chair and threaded her way to the far side of the room. She reached down behind a floor unit and pulled out a radio, cutting off the power with a swift twist of her hand. The rap music faded into silence. The room lights flickered irregularly, but she ignored them. She pulled the plug from the wall and marched back to the console. “That wasn’t very funny, E.”
Too quiet. Morgue city. Wanted to liven things up.
Chris grimaced. If Einstein had waited a few minutes, things might have livened up all by themselves. E needed a serious lesson in timing. He got to his feet, trying not to disturb the clutter of equipmentthat surrounded him. His jacket had slipped off one shoulder. He shrugged it on again and felt the weight of the package he’d slipped into his pocket earlier.
“I picked this up on the way in,” he said, handing the red-wrapped bundle to Melanie. “I didn’t know you watched the Shopping Channel.”
“I don’t,” she said tersely. “E does.”
“Einstein? You mean
Einstein
ordered this?”
Melanie nodded sadly. “He has absolutely no self-control when it comes to TV shopping. He’s always buying presents for me. I’ve gone through every one of his software programs looking for the bug, but it’s no use. He’s a shopaholic.”
Bargains! Bargains!
E responded, backing up her words.
Chris didn’t know who was crazier: Melanie for creating a bargain-hungry electronic brain, or himself for believing she’d created a
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