Do You Believe in Magic

chapter NINE



On Sunday Francie and the “gamesters,” as Clay had called them and she was beginning to think of them, were deep into the game program by late afternoon. Rick and Jim were discussing the best way to program a sequence, Tom and Linda were fussing as usual over a monster—one head or two, four legs or six—and Francie and Gary were designing a separate cave with a new puzzle.

Francie looked up from their design and studied her friends for a moment. They and their laptops were spread out over her living room, and you had to be careful where you walked because of the computer paraphernalia and extension cords everywhere. How fortunate she was to have them.

By some miracle, they had all moved to Houston after graduation. Everyone except Jim was gainfully employed. Jim’s trust fund allowed him to dabble in a variety of endeavors, but he had spoken of being bored doing essentially nothing with a purpose, and Francie expected him to start his own computer-related company soon. With his abilities, Jim could organize Microsoft. Come to think of it, he looked a little like Bill Gates—the same narrow face and round glasses, only with curly blond hair. She smiled to herself at her thoughts.

She was especially grateful that her good friends were here right this instant. She needed them today to keep her mind off Clay. She had woken up later than usual this morning, and as she had lain there thinking about Clay and the way he made her feel, all her insecurities had returned with a vengeance.

She could tick them off on her fingers: Handsome men meant trouble and heartbreak. Men were only after one thing, and it wasn’t her mind or her whole self. Sex was just a biological function, and she didn’t need it, even if she was better at it than Walt had claimed. She was sufficient unto herself. Clay was just playacting, no matter what he said. He needed her cooperation and, like any man, would say anything to get it. He’d leave after they caught Kevin.

But he had not been lying about his physical desire, the answer came back in her head. It was obvious in the tautness in his embrace and the fire in his silver eyes—and the evidence pressing against her sex.

She had rubbed her stomach as she remembered, and for once, the alien in her chest seemed to be purring rather than aching.

Clay stirred her as Walt had never done. When he touched her or took her in his arms, she hardly recognized herself.

And he treated her like an equal in all their discussions, especially the ones about computers. And he seemed sincere and honest. And trustworthy. He said no camouflage, only the truth. Could she believe him? Could she let herself go?

“What do you think, Francie?”

She almost jumped when she realized Gary was saying something about the cave. Resolutely pushing all her thoughts out of her head, she turned back to the computer to concentrate on the program.

At five o’clock, someone pounded on the door. “Who’s there?” several people yelled at once.

“Pizza!” came the reply in a male voice.

“Yeah!” Gary said. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Linda stated. “I guess it takes a lot to fill your long, skinny body.”

“Beer!” shouted the person on the other side of the door.

Everyone cheered loudly. “Let the man in!” Jim commanded.

Francie opened the door to Clay, who stood there with a double six-pack in one hand and a big bag with six pizzas in the other.

“I thought the group might need sustenance by now,” he said, looking her up and down. Well, this was an improvement in her dress—jeans and a T-shirt. The T-shirt was oversized, but it clung in some interesting ways, and the jeans fit like a second skin. She still wore those useless glasses, though.

“You’ve got that right!” Tom agreed, standing and stretching.

Francie introduced him, as a “friend,” to everyone, and they all gave him the once-over—very carefully. Like he could be Attila the Hun out to capture one of their own. He stifled a smile.

After the pizzas and beers were opened, and the group settled down to eat, he said, “Francie showed me your game and said you’d be over today. I’m impressed with your work.”

“And you have a few ideas we ought to incorporate?” Jim asked with a slight sarcastic tone in his voice.

Clay had met Jim’s type before and recognized territoriality when he saw it. Francie had spoken of him very highly during her demonstration last night. Sharp-faced, with cynical pale blue eyes watchful behind thin, round metal eyeglass frames, Jim was obviously the driving force behind the group and its endeavors.

If Clay could win Jim over, it would certainly help his cause with Francie—he hoped. “Hell, no,” he replied. “But I do have some ideas for taking it to the market, and I know a couple of people who might want to invest in the effort. When you’re ready, of course.”

Silence descended on the group.

“If you don’t want to do it yourselves, I also know a company who might be interested in buying it from you.” Clay nonchalantly took a big bite of pizza.

“Wait a minute,” Rick said. He ran a hand through his already thinning hair and peered intensely at Clay through his thick glasses. “Clay Morgan . . . Clay Morgan. Aren’t you the guy with the rep for discovering what’s wrong with hardware and software just by looking at the machine?”

“It’s not that easy or simple, but I do fix systems,” Clay admitted.

Gary swallowed his bite of pizza with a big gulp. “Hey, y’all, he’s the one who fixed the mess at my company after that crazy manager tried to sabotage the system.” He wiped his hand on his napkin and leaned over to shake Clay’s hand. “Great work! Man, I thought we’d never get back up for months. You had us going again in days.” He turned to the others. “Guys, this man can program rings around us. He really knows his stuff.” With that accolade, everybody relaxed. “Welcome to ‘Conundrum,’” Jim told Clay.

“Thanks. And if you need a beta tester, I’m volunteering.” Mentally thanking Gary for his endorsement, Clay took a swig of beer and glanced at Francie to see how she was reacting to all this.

Francie avoided his gaze and concentrated on her pizza. She had been watching the byplay with some trepidation. The group had always looked out for each other from their first days as freshmen at UT. She hadn’t been sure how her friends would receive Clay, but it seemed like they accepted him.

She could almost see the wheels turning in Jim’s mind as he contemplated the future. They had never explicitly discussed what they would do with the finished game. The majority was in the project for the doing, not any monetary rewards. Maybe it would be Jim’s task to market it. Such a job would certainly supply the focus and impetus he had been searching for.

After the pizza disappeared, Jim and Rick immediately captured Clay, demonstrating their latest progress, and everybody went back to work.

Francie glanced up from her design every so often, usually catching the eye of one of her friends. Everybody let her know by facial expression or gesture that Clay was all right with them. Linda went so far as to roll her eyes, pat her heart rapidly, and wink. Francie snapped her gaze back to the design, but she heard Linda’s soft chuckle. Linda and Rick had been a couple even before they graduated, and she had always expressed worry about Francie, having witnessed her transformation after her fateful sophomore year. It was clear to Francie from Linda’s expression her friend was not worried any longer.

Later, Jim followed Francie into the kitchen, ostensibly to help with the pizza boxes. “Francie, did Clay mean what he said about helping with financiers or buyers?”

“I’m certain he did, Jim. He wouldn’t have said it otherwise. Are you going to talk to him?”

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s past time we decided what we’re going to do with the game.” He held the garbage bag while she stuffed in the boxes. “Clay’s really something. Gary was right about his abilities. He gave us some outstanding ideas and came up with the solution to our biggest bug, and you know how it’s been driving us nuts.” He shot her a glance as he pulled the ties closed on the bag. “You two an item?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far. We’ve only had a couple of dates.”

“You know, Francie, if he does anything to hurt you, the guys and I will take care of him. I’ve always wished we’d had the chance to do something about what’s-his-name back there at UT.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the idea of their taking on Clay. What good friends they all were. She put her hand on his. “Thanks, Jim. I appreciate your offer, but I don’t think I’ll need your help this time.” Whatever she decided to do about Clay, she certainly didn’t want her friends involved. “Come on. Gary and I have a cave to show everybody.”

Around nine, after determining their tasks and goals for the immediate future, the group helped clean up the living room, packed their laptops, and prepared to leave. Jim secured Clay’s promise to be at the next get-together in four weeks and talk about the game’s future. The usual number of good-byes were called as people went down the stairs and toward their cars.

Francie shut the door and turned back into the living room. She hadn’t realized Clay was right behind her until she was caught, her back to his front.

“Did I pass?” he asked, nestling her close to his body.

She did not pretend to misunderstand, but she held very still and stiff. He wasn’t going to repeat their last encounter. “Yes, you definitely passed.”

“What do you think convinced them? My reputation? My superior knowledge? My take-charge but endearing personality?”

She pretended to consider his question. “Personally, I think it was the pizza. Oh, no, the beer. Definitely the beer.”

“You’re deflating my ego,” he said as he nuzzled her neck.

“Then don’t ask a leading question. It’s too hard to resist. And, please, let go.” She pushed back with both elbows and he released her. She walked to the far side of the room and moved the coffee table back to its usual location before looking at him.

He had a grim expression on his face, but his tone was mild as he sat on the couch. “We need to talk about Brenner.”

“Kevin? Oh, ick.” She made a face.

“I agree, but I spoke with Herb and Bill Childress this afternoon to let them know how the dinner went. We made some decisions.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I’m going to meet him ‘accidentally’ Thursday night, talk about my money woes, and let him hire me to hack for him. If we make the deal, I’ll bring him to my house next week and get into Brazos. Herb is setting up a dummy database of customer files, since we think that’s where Brenner’s been trying to go. I’m going to get as much information out of him as I can, especially whether he’s on his own or doing this on orders from someone at NatChem. We’ll record everything—audio when we meet in the bar and both video and audio at my place. And Bill will make the arrest, probably the next day, after he talks to his boss and the DA. This means you need to keep things from Tamara for just a little while longer.”

Francie frowned as she calculated the timing. “That’s almost two weeks before you can catch him. You can’t do it any sooner than that?”

“Unless he calls me directly, we couldn’t see how. If I’m going to meet him seemingly by chance, the bar is our best bet, but he only goes there for sure on Thursday, from what we know. We didn’t see how a double date for the four of us would give him the opportunity or the privacy to make me an offer. And the time lag will make him even more desperate and more forthcoming about the scheme, we hope. Do you see any other alternative?”

Francie thought while she moved a chair, then leaned on the back of it and shook her head. “No, not really.”

“Did you talk to Tamara today? Did she say anything about last night?”

“She stopped by this morning on her way to the grocery store. You impressed her last night, and she mentioned going out together some other time. She said Kevin liked you, too. He talked about being envious of your ability with computers. She didn’t mention if he said more about the ‘big deal’ he has coming up.”

“Well, it’s a start.” Clay rose and crossed over to her as she straightened up. “When can we get together again? I have to meet with some clients Monday night. How about Friday night? I’ll tell you how it all went with Brenner over dinner.”

“I don’t think that’s really necessary. You’ve got your intro to Kevin now. Why continue to bring me into this?”

He frowned. “We need to maintain the fiction, Francie. It will look funny to Tamara if we stop seeing each other now, and she’ll undoubtedly say something to Brenner.”

“Okay,” she sighed. She could probably take one more “date.” “Dinner on Friday.”

He chuckled. “Don’t look so glum. This will all be over soon, and we can move on to other things.”

He lowered his head with obvious intent, but this time she avoided him with a quick step to the other side of the chair. “No, Clay.”

“No, what? No good-night kiss?”

“No. I told you how I felt about the situation. Last night you wouldn’t let me get a word out before you left. I’m telling you as plainly as I can, no kisses, no touching. Let’s both keep clear heads and concentrate on catching Kevin. I dread every contact I have with Tamara, and I don’t need or want more aggravation.”

“If that’s the way you want it.” His eyes were silver ice and his voice lower than usual.

“Yes, it is.” The words were no more out of her mouth a moment when a sharp pain hit her right in her middle under her breastbone. She gasped, looked down at her chest, and rubbed the spot.

“Are you all right?” he asked, with an odd quirk to his lips.

She raised her gaze to his face. The ice had melted, replaced by a mischievous glint in his eyes. She almost thought he looked victorious, but for what?

She nodded. “Fine,” came out in almost a croak. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Let me know what happens with Kevin.”

“Will do.” He walked toward the front door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Are you playing in your league on Tuesday?”

“Yes.” She followed him and leaned on the door after he opened it.

“Good. So am I. Maybe we’ll see each other. Play well.”

“You, too.”

He gave her a little two-finger salute and a wink, and he was gone.

She closed the door as a wave of relief washed over her. That was much better than last night. She’d resisted him and come out intact. She could get through this situation by being strong. She turned out the lights and headed for her bedroom, still rubbing the painful spot at the end of her breastbone—or was it right over her heart?