Page 39 of The Build-a-Boyfriend Project

Peter pauses, listening.

“No, I, um . . . I’m out right now, so I can’t run them. Sorry.”

Eli relaxes back into the booth, still annoyed, but marginally less so given that he already expected this to happen again. Still, it doesn’t make the night any less tense.

“Okay, yeah. Yes. Yeah. Okay. I will. Thanks.” And finally, he hangs up. “I’m so sorry about that,” he apologizes, setting his phone down.

Eli just stares at him.

Peter sighs. “Iced Americano?”

“Didn’t realize you were psychic.”

Peter hides his face. “I’m sorry.”

“What is it that you do, exactly?” Eli asks, deciding that brushing past the situation might be for the best.

Peter hesitates before he asks, “Are you asking me that as first-date Eli? Or as real Eli?”

“Real Eli, but explain it to me like I’m first-date Eli.”

“This is confusing,” Peter says.

“You’re telling me.” Eli picks up his water again.

“I work at Zelus, the tech company.”

“They’re not into AI, are they?”

“No, Zelus mostly does UI design. Like the databases I make, and they helped to create the new readers for Muni.”

“Oh, right, right.” Eli vaguely recalls reading an article about the new card readers making their way throughout the city on the electric buses. “So, what do you do for them? And don’t just tell me you code or do stock or whatever.”

“I create and test the code for some of their clients, mostly chains who need to keep track of their inventory. But we’re taking on new companies all the time, designing all kinds of things for them; there’s a project starting in a few months with Lucasfilm.” It strikes Eli that none of Peter’s words are being said with any enthusiasm at all. Not that he has much room to talk.

“And that requires you to answer the phone during your off time?”

“It’s not really that . . .” Peter says.

Eli folds his hands together carefully. “Then what is it?”

“One of my supervisors had a question about a test I ran earlier today.”

“Okay, but it’s seven o’clock at night on a Friday; they shouldn’t be calling you when you’re not on the clock.”

Peter shrugs. “I don’t mind answering their questions.”

“Are you getting paid to do that?”

“No, I’m technically off the clock.” Guilt hangs heavy in his tone.

“That’s not fair, Peter.”

“I guess not, but . . . like I said, I don’t mind helping out or answering their questions. It’s for an important project we have to have done by January.”

“Well, they’ve got enough time to let you have a social life.”

“They want the timeline moved up, though.”