had placed bistro tables beneath brightly covered umbrellas. The view of the river was breathtaking and peaceful as I approached a counter to order a wood-fired margherita pizza and a glass of cabernet.
“I’ll charge this to your account, Ms…”
“Stonewall. Stella.”
“Ms. Stonewall. Nice to meet you. I’m Nick.” Nick’s worn, white apron sported yellow stains along the circumference of his portly belly—an obvious catch-all for his daily pizza making. He had kind eyes, a bulbous nose, and an easy smile. And he made a damn fine pizza.
I sat in contented silence for several minutes enjoying my simple meal and the borderline-naughty midday glass of wine. I was at peace with my decision to stay. It was right. Predestined even, and I laughed at the thought that not two days before I had no idea what I was going to do with my life.
It was at this moment, as I sat alone with a goofy grin on my face, that Rowan Gresham appeared across the table from me.
“Isn’t it amazing the effect on one’s perspective that can be made by a glass of wine and a moment’s peace?” he asked.
I rather thought it was amazing the effect a glass of wine and a grumpy old dude could have on my libido, but no way was I telling him that.
Instead, I confidently slid a copper-colored folder emblazoned with the gleaming gold Radix logo across the bistro table.
He glanced at it, threw open the folder. “You did it,” he breathed.
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought that the look that passed over his features was a mixture of astonished pleasure and satisfaction. Then I realized it was pride. He was proud of me. My heart fluttered a little at the thought of pleasing him, but mostly I was pleased with myself for taking all of this new information in stride and moving forward.
My PDA buzzed and a studious-looking female avatar peered up at me from the screen.
A sultry female voice intoned, “Stella, the New Semester Mixer begins in two hours in Sabre Hall’s ballroom.”
The avatar was modeled after me.
“Er, thank you?” I wasn’t sure if she could hear me, but thanked her just in case—I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Dang Southern genteel compulsions…
“It is my pleasure,” she replied.
“It can hear me, then?” I turned to Gresham, who was interrupted before he could comment.
“It is sitting right here, and can hear you. You may call me Pia. I am a personal interactive assistant, and am assigned to you for the remainder of your time here at Radix. I control your schedule, can help with your orientation, and am a means of communication with your teachers and peers. I will also assist with, store, and submit any necessary coursework.”
“Ah, all right,” I said and shrugged before turning to Gresham, “You going to this thing? This mixer?”
“Not really my scene. I have a conflict anyway. But you should go. Meet some of your classmates.”
“I think I will,” I said, and my smile matched Gresham’s.
“Congratulations, and welcome to The Root.” He shocked me by running his arm behind my shoulders for a perfectly appropriate hug. Despite its propriety, the forced proximity to his big body was so new, so very warm that the blush on my cheeks was from more than the wine.
----
“ W ell , okay, Pia,” I said after a moment. I don’t suppose you know my room assignment at Sabre Hall? I have a party to get ready for.”
I rolled my eyes in sarcasm and waved goodbye to Gresham, secretly delighting in my new toy.
“Of course I do. You will reside in Room 412. The mixer dress is smart casual.”
“You’re way cooler than Siri, Pia.”
“I’m funnier, too.”
“Oh yeah,” I asked her. “Know any jokes?”
She replied, deadpan, “Three iPhones walk into a bar...”
----
O ne quick turn of a key gained entrance to my new home. I was delighted to find it came with worn but comfortable antique furnishings. A full-sized turned wood bed was covered with a quilt that had been washed so
“I’ll charge this to your account, Ms…”
“Stonewall. Stella.”
“Ms. Stonewall. Nice to meet you. I’m Nick.” Nick’s worn, white apron sported yellow stains along the circumference of his portly belly—an obvious catch-all for his daily pizza making. He had kind eyes, a bulbous nose, and an easy smile. And he made a damn fine pizza.
I sat in contented silence for several minutes enjoying my simple meal and the borderline-naughty midday glass of wine. I was at peace with my decision to stay. It was right. Predestined even, and I laughed at the thought that not two days before I had no idea what I was going to do with my life.
It was at this moment, as I sat alone with a goofy grin on my face, that Rowan Gresham appeared across the table from me.
“Isn’t it amazing the effect on one’s perspective that can be made by a glass of wine and a moment’s peace?” he asked.
I rather thought it was amazing the effect a glass of wine and a grumpy old dude could have on my libido, but no way was I telling him that.
Instead, I confidently slid a copper-colored folder emblazoned with the gleaming gold Radix logo across the bistro table.
He glanced at it, threw open the folder. “You did it,” he breathed.
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought that the look that passed over his features was a mixture of astonished pleasure and satisfaction. Then I realized it was pride. He was proud of me. My heart fluttered a little at the thought of pleasing him, but mostly I was pleased with myself for taking all of this new information in stride and moving forward.
My PDA buzzed and a studious-looking female avatar peered up at me from the screen.
A sultry female voice intoned, “Stella, the New Semester Mixer begins in two hours in Sabre Hall’s ballroom.”
The avatar was modeled after me.
“Er, thank you?” I wasn’t sure if she could hear me, but thanked her just in case—I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Dang Southern genteel compulsions…
“It is my pleasure,” she replied.
“It can hear me, then?” I turned to Gresham, who was interrupted before he could comment.
“It is sitting right here, and can hear you. You may call me Pia. I am a personal interactive assistant, and am assigned to you for the remainder of your time here at Radix. I control your schedule, can help with your orientation, and am a means of communication with your teachers and peers. I will also assist with, store, and submit any necessary coursework.”
“Ah, all right,” I said and shrugged before turning to Gresham, “You going to this thing? This mixer?”
“Not really my scene. I have a conflict anyway. But you should go. Meet some of your classmates.”
“I think I will,” I said, and my smile matched Gresham’s.
“Congratulations, and welcome to The Root.” He shocked me by running his arm behind my shoulders for a perfectly appropriate hug. Despite its propriety, the forced proximity to his big body was so new, so very warm that the blush on my cheeks was from more than the wine.
----
“ W ell , okay, Pia,” I said after a moment. I don’t suppose you know my room assignment at Sabre Hall? I have a party to get ready for.”
I rolled my eyes in sarcasm and waved goodbye to Gresham, secretly delighting in my new toy.
“Of course I do. You will reside in Room 412. The mixer dress is smart casual.”
“You’re way cooler than Siri, Pia.”
“I’m funnier, too.”
“Oh yeah,” I asked her. “Know any jokes?”
She replied, deadpan, “Three iPhones walk into a bar...”
----
O ne quick turn of a key gained entrance to my new home. I was delighted to find it came with worn but comfortable antique furnishings. A full-sized turned wood bed was covered with a quilt that had been washed so
Similar Books
