Caught by the Boss ✔️

15

HENRY/HECTOR

I rush to pack my things. I'm running late for my date with Grace. Traffic in the city is brutal during rush hour, and I don't want to leave a bad impression.
I've already invited Grace to my cabin for a weekend, where I set up helmets to enter The Machine with her. It will be a more interesting date than the ones I've been bringing her to lately. I'm sure she's bored of restaurants by now.

I want to focus on her. Shower her with attention and thoughtful details. In just a few more dates, it will be time to make things official. Grace deserves to feel special. She is the one I fell for in The Machine. Although her memories were wiped, I still have mine.

Doting on her is the right thing to do. My brief slip of focus with Leila had been a dishonorable mistake. And although I don't speak much with my father nowadays, that was one of the values he taught me to succeed in business. Honor. I can't flirt with my secretary again. Not when I'm trying to move ahead with Grace.

I pick up a folder containing Leila's helmet analytics. I haven't sorted through the bug report yet, but I have plans to get it done by tonight. I'm particularly interested in this bug, and printing the code on paper has always helped me diagnose problems quicker.
What memories did Leila keep from when she was logged in? I suppose it doesn't matter. She'll be the only one to ever know.

I drive to the restaurant, arriving twenty minutes late. My reserved table is still open and a complimentary bottle was sent.

I greet Grace, kissing her cheek and embracing her tightly. She waves off my apology and joins me on the table. We order our appetizers and she dives into a tangent about The Machine, showing a passion she never had shown before. She tells me that she's reading a book about it, found a server for skydiving that she wants to try out, and made virtual friends. It's strange how focused she is on this topic. On our first date, she mentioned hobbies like gardening, but she never mentioned it again. I've yet to see a picture of her garden, guitar, or pets.

She sighs and curves her lips, which are painted a lovely red. The dress she wears is also more eye-catching than the office clothes she usually arrives in. She must have made time to dress up for me, and it makes me appreciate her more.

She reaches for my hand, sliding past our cups of wine to touch me. I look down to admire our united hands.

"You know, this is going to sound crazy, but sometimes I feel deja vu with you. Like we've gone on dates before. Talked before." She bites her lip. "Do you think we've met in The Machine, but don't remember?"

I smile at this precious, magical woman. "I think we have."

She grins brightly and returns her hand to her lap. I already miss her touch.
"I can't wait to spend time with you at the cabin. I hope things aren't too busy and that I'm not keeping you from work?"

I shake my head. "Everything is fine. Don't worry about it."

"How has Leila been?" She asks, her pretty face scrunching with concern.
My thoughts shift to the mysterious, short woman that's so different from Grace. Leila doesn't take over conversation. In fact, I can barely get a few sentences out of her. She doesn't dye her hair or wear bright colors, because she's content blending into the background with her white, grey and black clothes.

"Leila has been fine. Helpful," I answer. I don't mention how distracting she has been.

"Oh..." Grace's eyes fall to her wine glass, and she fists her hands.
"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to say this. She's my friend and all but..." she can't hold my gaze.

"What is it, Grace?" I've never raised my voice at her, but I can't stand the suspense. I have a bad feeling about what she's about to deliver.