Page 35 of Fake It For Glory

“I like IPAs, but honestly, anything cold and refreshing will do the trick.”

She nodded, taking in my response. “Got it. So, you’re a thirty-four-year-old IPA-loving guy who doesn’t like spicy food and oysters and prefers beer over wine.”

I smiled at her summary of me. “That’s me in a nutshell.”

Merida grinned back at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement and interest. It was nice when we weren’t fighting.

“How did you get into the tech business?” she asked.

“I think it kind of fell into me,” I said.

“Explain,” she encouraged.

I wasn’t sure it would ever be brought up in casual conversation, but if it did, it was better if she knew.

“I was a nerd,” I admitted. “A huge nerd.”

“I doubt that,” she said, laughing.

“You’ve really never heard my story?” I asked.

“No.” She shook her head.

My story was kind of my secret. There had been various articles and unauthorized biographies, but I knew Hattie never talked and I sure as hell didn’t. Anything those people wrote about was hearsay. No one heard it from me.

“Well, as a kid, I was much more interested in taking apart my father’s computer and putting it back together again before he got home from work, just to see how it worked. I took apart tablets and laptops. My dad put the word out if anyone had broken electronics, he would take them off their hands to keep me entertained.”

“Really?” she said, smiling. “That’s very sweet.”

“My dad worked two jobs to put me into a tech school for gifted kids,” I went on. “It was where I thrived. It was an environment more suited to my talents and abilities. It got me out of the advanced classes at my old school. The move to the new school separated me from the bullies in my old public school that targeted me for being so different. I went to school with kids several years older than me. I graduated four years early and earned scholarships to study at any university of my choosing. I had offers from MIT, Yale, Berkley, everywhere. But I was pretty much done with school. My dad told me I learned all a teacher was going to teach me. He encouraged me to get out into the real world. Instead, of going to college, I got a job at Google as a junior developer when I was only seventeen.”

“No shit?”

I laughed. I was used to that reaction. “It’s the truth. I am a real geek.”

“You and I both know you’re not a geek,” she said dryly. “How long were you at Google?”

“I was recruited out of Google by a small start-up,” I answered. “I liked my job at Google, but I felt like I was being held back. I was put in a box and told what to do. It was too easy. I needed to stretch my wings. I didn’t care that the startup wouldn’t pay shit. Once I got out of Google and was allowed to do more of what I wanted, my growth and knowledge grew rapidly. Then one day I started my own side project inspired by my greatest passion of all: AI. I know it’s a controversial subject, but it’s going to happen. I love it. I love the possibilities. I love that it’s something no one else has done. I get to pave the way. Some people can’t wait to see what the next wave of tech will bring, while others fear this kind of progress. I see it as a huge opportunity to improve quality of life across the globe. My goal is to make AI accessible to all consumers as a true companion to help make their lives easier.”

She was hanging on my every word. I knew I could go off on tangents when I talked about my work. Hattie called it my geek speak. I couldn’t help it. It was the one thing in life that truly excited me.

“I did see you on TV last week,” she confessed. “Lox, right?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“People are afraid of robots taking over the world,” she said, smiling. “Robots tend to be smarter than us and they don’t have human emotion that might affect a decision.”

“My tech has nothing to do with taking over the world,” I assured her. “My first step is to get people to trust the tech. To understand how much it can help them, without taking over. My next step is to integrate that same program into other districts, like healthcare, road systems, travel, etc.”

She nodded. “I get it. It sounds good.”

“But you don’t believe me?”

“No, I do, but I guess it’s just a little scary,” she said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Are you going to implant chips in our hands?”

I laughed. “You know, people make that sound like a bad thing, but imagine you’re in a car accident and your wallet is missing in action. A paramedic could scan your chip and have all the information he needed. There would never be another John Doe. I can see why people might be afraid, but I promise that we’re not implanting chips in anyone’s hands. Our goal is to make AI work for people, not against them.”

She seemed to relax a bit at that, and we continued talking about my work for a while longer. She seemed genuinely interested, which was not something I was used to.

“I think you have some big goals,” she said.

“I do,” I said, nodding. “Alright, my turn. What about you, Merida? What do you do for work? And hobbies? What are your favorite pastimes? Do you like seafood, just in case I bring you a plate?”

She looked a little shocked. “I’m not a picky eater,” she answered my last question first. “I like to try anything. I do love spicy food. I like wine, but I also like beer. Some of the IPAs are a little too strong for my tastes, but I love doing those beer sampling trays. Those are fun.”

As our conversation continued, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of connection with Merida. It was as if we were peeling back layers of each other’s lives, and I found myself genuinely enjoying the process. Perhaps this charade of being a couple for the gala event wouldn’t be as burdensome as I had initially thought.

“What do you do for a living?” I asked. “Is your family here in Manhattan?”