He scoffs. “You got that right. The other day, I was reading about up and coming technologies. The newer chips are the size of a human cell. They can be inserted into your skin with nary a pinprick of sensation. My phone chip hurt like a mother when I got it inserted.”
“Yeah, mine, too.” I finger the place behind my ear where mine is, remembering how long it took to heal.
“Anyway, these new ones are connected to your home’s mainframe and they monitor all your habits. Once embedded, they surround your body with electrical impulses. And get this,” he says, sitting up excitedly. “The damn things reproduce inside of you. Once they’ve been planted, they grow like little invading weeds.”
I shudder. “Why would anyone want something like that inside of them? That sounds so…so…so
invasive
!”
“You know how the ridiculously rich are. They get bored easily. So these things—they monitor your breathing when you look at something. Hell, they even monitor your smells. They’re
that
sophisticated. And, they monitor facial gestures—the miniscule clues that flash across our faces when we’re regarding something we want. Even the snapshots of your iris that BuyScanners take while you’re shopping are fed to the chip.”
“I can’t stand those. You can’t even wander through a small corner store without being spied on.”
“Not unless you have Blocker Goggles on.”
“I don’t trust those either. I think they were developed by a company that wants you to
think
you’re safe. They probably enhance the connection the BuyScanners make with your body.”
Jonas shakes his head. “Agreed. I’ve taken to sending someone else to do my shopping for me. Remember when I told you that I have an assistant who gets me what I need?”
“Yeah, so?”
“It’s my own act of rebellion to the complete lack of privacy we live in.”
“Yeah, but you can afford it. What do the poor have to protect themselves?”
“Nothing, but they’re not the target audience. The BuyScanners want to find out what people with money are after. It’s the CrimeScanners that are watching the poor. They assume if you have no money, you’re more prone to criminal behavior. We all know it’s the ones with too much money to watch out for.” He taps his fingers on the table. “Anyway, back to the new chip technology. They’re programmed to monitor behaviors and patterns and deliver what they decipher. I hear the ones that are really good have a suite of educational services built within seconds of you desiring to learn something. Did you use something like that—the educational services modules?”
“Uh, kind of,” I say, eager to switch the topic. “I wonder what happened to our waiter?”
“And then you connect with your clients in some similar fashion? Mental highways? Those always seemed weird to me.”
“Uh, well, they serve a purpose, Jonas. When you use Neural Nodes to hook people up to one another, it does enhance the connection.”
“How do you know that?”
I get a little twitchy. “I read about it.”
“And what about those avatar salons?”
I start to squirm. This topic is cutting
way
too close to the bone. “What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard of them? They’re springing up everywhere. People take these designer drugs and then they log into Super Rooms, like the holographic rooms that were in use a few years ago. They build their avatars and then they get to watch them interact from inside the Super Room. I suppose the ones with the vivid imaginations do better than the others. But still…whatever happened to the thrill of human contact?”
I don’t like where this conversation is headed. I know Jonas has strong convictions but I didn’t know he doesn’t care for fantasy. And that’s just what I do for a living now—only my business is far more sophisticated than the avatar salons. Kaama’s technical skills combined with my freakazoid skills makes people think they’re having a real experience. They swear they really, really, really just had sex with a version of me. In an avatar salon they know it’s just fantasy. “People these days need an outlet. Life has sucked for the last decade or two. Even you might deserve a little fun now and then.” I’m starting to get defensive.
“I suppose, but people spend far too much time in the fantasy realm. There’s plenty to be done in real time.”
I look up to see our waiter swishing over our way. He’s a gender bender for sure. I breathe a sigh of relief. Jonas is in a pissy, pissy mood tonight.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your drinks.” The waiter winks at me and sets a tall glass of amber liquid on the table. A slice of lemon floats in the foam. Specks of dark brown something rest on top of the lemon. I take a sniff. “Vanilla?”
“Madagascar’s finest.”
I take a small sip. “Mmm. Delish!”
“You asked for cool and amber. This is amber.” He points to my beverage. “And this is oh-so-cool.” He waves a hand up and down his torso.
I laugh. “You got that right.”
The waiter plunks the Mezzaluna in front of Jonas. He bats his lashes. “And there
you
go!”
“Thanks.” Jonas looks up at him and gives him a manly glare.
The waiter smiles indulgently. “Don’t worry, sugar, you are
so
not my type. She’s the one who’s caught my eye. The name’s Magicka, by the way. Magicka Santorini.”
“Hands off. She’s my friend.”
“And she can defend herself, thank you very much,” I say, stopping the macho madness. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Magicka.” I extend my hand to him.
“Girl, the pleasure is all mine.” He kisses my hand before releasing it. “Mm mm mmm, you smell good.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Jonas bristle. “Let’s order.”
After Magicka sashays away with our order, I turn to Jonas. “You’re always happy, Jonas. That’s one of the things I can count on. And I doubt that Jenner’s snark today was any different than usual. It’s what she does.”
“You’re right about that.” He takes a healthy slurp of vodka. “It’s me who’s changing. I told you. I’m getting tired of it.”
“Have you told her that?”
“All the fucking time. So much so that I’ve given up. Now it’s just ‘yes, dear’ and ‘no, dear.’ It makes me sick. It makes me feel weak. And I tell you what—I do
not
like feeling that way. I’m a fucking man, goddamn it. I’m no one’s bitch.”
I frown. I’ve known Jonas for about eight years. He’s been with Jenner half that time. Before that we both dated around, never with one another. I’ve never seen him this way. “Yeah, but you are a nice guy. I know you. You want to do the right thing.” I shrug. “Maybe it’s time for a switch. Maybe that’s what’s right.”
He brightens, grinning at me. “I was hoping you’d feel that way.”
“Not like that,
friend
.”
“We’d have a wonderful relationship. You know that we would.”
“We already do have a wonderful relationship. It’s easy. It’s not messy or complex. It’s something I can count on when I’m blue and delight in when I’m happy.”
“And you could be howling with pleasure when you’re turned on.”
I give him a smirk face and reach for my beer. I pretend to be all cool and together but my insides have decided something else. I’m wet where it counts, hot where it matters, and my heart is beginning to pound with a vengeance. “Off-limits topic, remember?” I wipe my lips with my soft napkin. Jonas says nothing so I take another swig of beer. “Remember?” I ask, facing him. When I meet his eyes I almost cough and choke. He’s looking at me with an openness that’s fall-in-and-take-a-swim enticing. It’s like he’s torn away any façade he puts up when we’re out goofing around. There’s this new Jonas—this undiscovered mystery Jonas—looking back at me. “Jonas, don’t…”
“Don’t what, Vienna?” He continues to gaze at me.
“You’re making me…”
“I’m not doing anything except looking at you the way I’ve always wanted to look at you—adoringly, with a generous dose of desire.”
I swallow, hard. I drink him in. I know I shouldn’t, but he just looks so fine, so delicious, so inviting, I’m at a loss as to how to behave right now. “Jonas, I told you I won’t be the excuse that lets you free yourself.”
He nods but doesn’t look away.
I wrench myself away from his gaze and stare at the other diners. My gaze lands on a couple in the shadowed corner across the room. I blink. “Isn’t that Jenner over there? I thought you said she was at art class.”
Jonas’s head whips around to see where I’m looking. “So that’s what’s going on. I guess she’s decided to meet Brian in the evenings, too. I wondered what her new interest in art was all about.” His face turns an angry, blotted red.
“It might not be what you think it is,” I say reassuringly.
“Oh?” His voice is laced with sarcasm. “And what might it be?” He starts to scoot out of the booth.
I lean over and grab his shirtsleeve. “Not so fast, cowboy. Cool your jets.”
“Hell, no, I won’t cool my jets. My jets are burning at full throttle right now.”
“I can see that. Calm down. This is not the time for an angry confrontation.”
He downs his vodka. “This is the perfect time for an angry confrontation. It will be in front of everyone. She always wants to look perfect in public.” Once again he scoots away from me.
I lunge across the table, grab his arm, and hiss at him. “Stop it, Jonas.”
A few diners have turned to stare at us. Jenner and Brian are too far away and too absorbed in each other to notice anything.
“It’s okay, he just got an alarming pulse-com,” I say to the onlookers, trying to get everyone to mind their own business. “I’ve got this.”
An older woman nods and turns to her companion. The other diners follow suit and I turn back to my friend. “Now you just calm the fuck down, Jonas. You don’t know what she’s doing or why she’s doing it.”
“Yeah? Well, she sure looks cozy doing it, whatever it is.”
“What’s Brian do for a living?”
“He’s an event planner for the high and mighty.”
“So maybe they’re planning an event.”
“And what might that be? My funeral?”
“Don’t be dumb. I’m sure you’ll get to the bottom of it. Hasn’t she ever planned an event with this guy before?”
“Well, yeah, she’s got some pricey clients at her work.”
I scoff. “At her ‘work.’” I make quote marks around the word. “And what work might that be besides sponging off of you? She’s a volunteer at the Nuevo Opera. She helps sell tickets. What kind of a job is that?”
“Yeah, I know. But sometimes her duties there extend to making sure a diva is treated in true diva fashion. But you’re right. I don’t want to make this evening about her. I want to enjoy my friend.”
“And your friend wants to enjoy her friend.” I smile warmly at him. “So let’s do that.”
Our salads and freshly baked bread arrive and we set to eating. The beer, food, and camaraderie are making me feel warm and relaxed. “I really think you’ll sort all this out with your girlfriend, as much as it pains me to say that. You’ll get your head on straight.”
“So we’re back here again.” Jonas signals for the waiter. “I’ll have another one of these,” he says, pointing to his drink. His eyes flick over to where Jenner is sitting and back to me. “Now I know what you mean about topics you wish you didn’t have to discuss. I had just about gotten her and bozo Brian out of my head.”
“Things have to be dealt with. You can’t sweep a topic under the rug just because you find it uncomfortable.”
He gives me a pointed look. “You do hear yourself, right?”
“Oops. I do.”
“So don’t go getting all pop psychology on me since we haven’t touched your forbidden topic once tonight. I gave you my word.”
“Got it.” I gesture to our gender-bender waiter and point down at my empty beer glass. He nods and I turn back to Jonas. “It seems we’ve gone down the wrong road this evening.”
“It’s not going the way I’d planned.”
“And what was that plan? That you and I would sail off to bed and be happy ever after?”
He chuckles. “No. That’s a great idea, though. I just wanted to have an easy outing with you. Life sucks lately.”
I reach out to touch his hand. We touch affectionately all the time but this time Jonas’s return squeeze feels a little too intimate. His fingers find their way to the top of my hand and start stroking, back and forth, back and forth. They wander up along my tender wrist and make slow circles along my forearm.
“So what happens?” he asks softly. “What happens that stops you from coming?”
My heart jerks up into my throat, catapulted up there from my clenching stomach. I decide to pull up my big–girl’s britches and put my money where my mouth is. I swallow. “Kissing really turns me on. I love a good kisser. I love to have my neck bit. I get all turned on from having my nipples sucked. I love surprises, too—a kind of touch I’ve never felt before, or some technique the guy has mastered. But then, when the attention drifts downward, I…” My gaze falls away from him.
This is too hard. I’ve never talked about this before
.
“You what? I know this is difficult to talk about. I’m here for you.”
“I don’t know, I just disappear. I get all tense. My mind fills with negative bullshit talk—
This isn’t going to happen; will it happen?; no, it won’t
. It’s nonstop. By that time, I have left the building, as far as awareness goes. Gone, baby, gone. And then the guy pumps, he shoots his load, I fake it and that’s that.”
He threads his fingers with mine and pulls my hand into his lap. “That sucks, Vienna.”
I don’t think he means to do this, but my hand brushes something hot and hard under his slacks. I inhale sharply. Then again, how can he not know?
“What?” He pulls my hand out from under the table and kisses my knuckles. “Don’t ever be afraid to share with me, V. You know that anything you say is safe with me.”
“I know,” I breathe. “But I’ve never talked with anyone about this little problem of mine.”
He smiles. “A little problem just needs a big solution.” He laughs at his own joke. “Sorry, but you set me up for that one.”
I smirk and shake my head. “So, since I’ve answered your questions, will you promise to get more details before you explode—with Jenner I mean?”