Even Odds (4 page)

“This is my first time here.” Isabel picked up one of the shelves and turned it over in her hands, running her fingers over the unfinished edges. “I've been to other cons, but not this one.”

“I come every year. This weekend will be a madhouse.” He took the shelf from her hands and slid it into place, tightening down the connectors with the tiny screwdriver that came with the shelving unit. A few more connections and it was done, a three-by-three grid of empty cubes waiting for whatever merchandise they needed to set up. “There. All done.” He sat back on his heels.

“Awesome.” She got to her feet and looked it over. “Thanks so much. I'm usually good at this kind of thing, but I never got the hang of these picture directions. I prefer words.” She tugged a giant cardboard box closer and started peeling off the packing tape. “Guess I can unload the merch now.” After a pause in which she seemed to consider something, she asked, “What's on deck for you?”

Caleb checked the time on his phone. “Another hour of wandering the floor, then I'm going to the Wingdings party later.” Even though he'd left them a few years earlier to start his own business with Henry, he'd known better than to burn bridges, and the amiable connections at least led to a guaranteed private party invite every year. He loved the party, but he wasn't looking forward to answering awkward questions about all the nothing he was doing with his life now. Maybe he should just keep his yellow shirt on, which served as a beacon of sadness on its own.

“Wingdings is throwing a party tonight?” Her eyes widened. “I love them. I played
Red Witch
for two days straight when it came out.”

“Yeah, me, too.” It was nice to find people who enjoyed the same games he did. Maybe this Isabel was more than a pretty face. “Go chat up the designers. They're here somewhere.” He glanced around the expo hall at all the booths in various stages of setup, but didn't see the telltale Wingdings banner. That made sense, of course. Most of these companies wouldn't finish setting up until later, and banners weren't generally hung until the end.

“I'll have to do that. Maybe I'll see you later.” She started digging in the box for merchandise.

“Sure. See you around.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, letting his gaze linger on those black curls for just a moment before he turned and walked away.

Isabel watched Caleb walk
away, puzzled by the interaction. He'd just come on over and helped her and made polite conversation, then left. Had he been flirting with her? She wasn't great with flirting. She hadn't even known Adam was into her until he'd asked her out, even though he insisted he'd been flirting with her for months.

She couldn't help but notice that Caleb was certainly easy on the eyes: she didn't usually go for beards on white guys, but his was nicely trimmed and an appealing mix of blond and light brown that matched his hair. When he had been attaching the final shelf, he'd moved his arm in such a way that she could see a tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his shirt. Maybe he had more of them. She'd never slept with a guy with tattoos before.

As soon as she thought it, she paused. When had she started to consider sleeping with him? She didn't even know him. How pathetic was it to throw herself at the first guy she saw at the convention? Best put that thought aside.

By the time she finished sorting the T-shirts into the cubes on the shelving unit Caleb had built, Matthew sauntered back over. “How's it going here?”

“Fine, no thanks to you.” Isabel made a face. “I'm tagging out for food.”

“Go ahead. I'll take the next shift.” Matthew bent to open up one of the folding tables they had tucked into the back of their booth.

As soon as she'd left, Isabel affixed her badge to her shirt and pulled the scavenger hunt list out of her pocket, remembering what Caleb had said about a party later on. Getting invited to a private party was worth ten points. Plus, it was Wingdings. Meeting the designers would be an honor. But she really was hungry, so first she grabbed an overpriced cup of soup from one of the vendors. After a mouthful of tepid broth, she had to struggle not to make a face. If this was the clam chowder that made Boston famous, she didn't understand the appeal.

The Wingdings booth in the corner of the convention center arena was not one of the largest at the entire event, but they'd mostly finished setting up already and struck an impressive scene next to the in-progress booths on all sides. As Isabel approached, she wished she'd worn a different outfit, maybe something other than this ugly T-shirt and her baggy jeans. Something professional. She could probably score an invite if she dressed in a low-cut blouse, since she had quite a bit to show off if she were so inclined, but she hadn't become successful in this industry by flashing her breasts at every game designer who walked by and she wasn't about to start now.

Their booth was fairly quiet; most people were focused on their own setup rather than wandering around. A few Wingdings staffers were still assembling computers for beta testing their games, and two more were lingering near the row of finished consoles. All were men (no surprise). Two early visitors to the booth had on headsets and were gaming at the finished consoles while setup continued around them.

Isabel made eye contact with a staff member and flashed him a smile, then approached with an outstretched hand. This kind of social interaction was right in her wheelhouse: business-to-business, a showing of respect for the craft. When the scavenger hunt flashed through her mind, she faltered, a flutter of unfamiliar anxiety washing through her before she forced it away. This was business.

The staff member she approached matched her smile. He was black, a little lighter skinned than Matthew, and almost a full head taller than her. His handshake was firm and friendly as he glanced at her badge, that neutral plastic card with the DiceCon logo and the plain black label reading Vendor. “Hi there. What company are you with?”

“PI Games.” He gave her a friendly but blank stare, so she continued. “Players Incorporated. We made
Ruby Exit
and
Bump.
”

“Oh, I loved
Ruby Exit
!” He nodded. “I played the hell out of that game last year. Sorry I didn't recognize the name. I'm Eric.”

“Isabel.”

“You local?”

“No, we're based out of Tampa.” She already felt at ease; his smile was friendly and welcoming.

“Wow, that's a long haul. When'd you get in?” He shifted to lean against one of their counters.

“This morning. We left early.”

“Nice. We got in about midnight from Virginia. I swear, I'm wiped out. But I'm going to be dead tomorrow.” He nodded to the consoles where one gamer was setting his headphones aside, leaving an open space for another player. “You know Wingdings?”

“Oh yeah.” She nodded. “I stayed up for two days straight when
Red Witch
came out.”

He gestured for her to come around to the open console. “Want to take a look at
Red Witch's Revenge
? Out this fall. We're accepting applications for beta testing.”

“Really? That'd be awesome.” She stepped in front of the console and immediately felt at home; the commands came back to her in just a few keystrokes. Eric stood by and watched her play, nodding admiringly as she cleared the level.

“Nice. You play really well.”

“Thanks. This looks great. Your graphics are phenomenal.” She typed her email address into the place where they asked for beta testers. Finished, she turned around to face Eric, resting her elbows on the counter behind her. “We're putting out a new game this fall, too.
Frost Prince
. It's a combo first-person shooter and puzzle game. If you liked
Ruby Exit,
you'd probably enjoy it.”

“Thanks, I'll check it out. Is that what you're promoting this weekend? Where are you guys on the floor?” Eric peered past her, as if expecting to see her booth right beyond his vision.

“We're a few rows back. Spot 402.” Isabel gestured vaguely to the space behind her. “We're just getting started on
Frost Prince,
but mostly we're pushing
Squish
this weekend. It just came out last month. It's a puzzle game, the sequel to
Bump
.”

“I'll have to come by.” Eric checked his watch and looked around. “I can't believe I still have another hour here. I'm so ready to get back to the hotel and take a nap.” He stifled a yawn.

“Me too.” She shrugged. “I think my team and I were just going to hang around the hotel tonight; there doesn't seem to be anything else going on.” She gave herself a mental smack.
Real subtle, Isabel
.

At least he took her up on it right away. “Don't stay in. We're having a party tonight. Why don't you swing by? We're in the Marriott next door. Suite 1533. Should be a good time. Lots of people. Nice way to kill the night before the convention.” He pulled a business card out of the holder and scribbled the time and address on the back.

“Thanks! That sounds like fun.” With supreme effort, she kept her voice level, but inside she was cheering. Yes! Ten points
and
a way to spend the rest of the evening.

“Bring your team. Come by about ten o'clock?” He handed her the business card.

“All right, yeah. I'll see you then.”

Her walk back to their booth was definitely more of a saunter. By the time she got back, the PI Games floor banner had been set up and the rest of their booth was in place. Lloyd fooled around on one of the iPads while Matthew fanned business cards out on the front table. Dan was sitting in the other free chair, fiddling with a small figurine he'd probably won at some game.

“What's up with you?” Matthew asked, seeing her grin. “Hand job in the restroom?”

Isabel felt a flush of embarrassment. She'd never been on the receiving end of Matthew's jokes, but participating in the scavenger hunt apparently meant she was going to be part of this teasing. Surprisingly, she didn't really mind when it was coming from Matthew. She trusted him. “Very funny. Nope. Ten points, though.” She held up Eric's business card. “Wingdings party. Marriott hotel, suite 633, ten o'clock tonight.” She tossed it onto the desk in front of them. “So I'm in the lead, and you three can kiss my ass.”

Isabel had never been
the type of girl to try on ten different outfits before attending an event, but she understood those girls a little better when choosing what to wear to the party that night. Eventually, she settled on her other pair of jeans, the ones that actually fit, and a red button-down blouse that was more pretty than businesslike. Digging through her underwear drawer, she searched for the minimizing bra that would tame her breasts down into something manageable under that blouse. Only after combing through the drawer twice did panic begin to set in.

She hadn't brought her minimizing bra.

Fuck.

The blouse she'd picked was much more of an obstacle now, with her breasts pushing obscenely at the buttons in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. She tugged a tank top out of another drawer and pulled that on underneath, which allowed her to unbutton the shirt, but her breasts were still
right there.
Isabel stared at them in the mirror, deciding between straining the buttons and hiding that cleavage line, or just unbuttoning the shirt and accepting the tops of her breasts peeking out over the neck of the tank top. This wouldn't even be a big deal if she weren't with people from work.

Isabel turned sideways in the mirror and examined her silhouette, chewing her bottom lip. Ugh, she had to stop being so uptight. She wasn't in lingerie. Sure, the shirt was more revealing than she usually wore, but it would be dark at the party. Matthew wouldn't ogle her, because he was gay, and she didn't think she was Dan's type. As for Lloyd, he was obnoxious no matter what she wore. She could wear this. The rest of the people at the party were strangers, and she wouldn't ever see any of them again, so if she wanted to try on a new persona for the evening, this would be a perfect place to do so. Plus, if she had any intention of finding a stranger to have her way with, she needed to up the outfit game. Honestly, the whole experience pushed her comfort zone: if she were at home, she would be whiling away the evening gaming or playing piano. She might as well go way outside her comfort zone and dress a little nice.

She took a deep breath in and let it out. All right. This was where her daring adventure began.

A pounding on the door made her jump. “You done in there?” Matthew asked, his voice muffled on the other side of the door. “We're already late.”

“It's a party,” she said back, walking over to let him in. “You're supposed to be late.”

When the door opened, Matthew glanced down at her. His eyes widened, just enough that he couldn't hide it, but he quickly looked back up to her face. To Isabel's relief, he didn't say anything. “You ready?”

“Sure.” Isabel tucked her ID, phone, some cash, and the key card into the back pockets of her jeans. “Where are the others?”

“Waiting impatiently at the elevator. You aren't bringing a jacket?” He looked her up and down again.

“I don't want to carry it. It's only two blocks, right?” She pulled the door shut behind her.

Matthew shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“You look nice,” Isabel observed. Matthew was wearing a navy blue button-down shirt and a pair of snug black jeans. “I know I gave you some shit about it, but the bald look works for you.”

“You think?” He ran a hand over his scalp. “At least it'll be nice and cool for the summers back home.”

Isabel's breath quickened with nerves when they reached the bank of elevators and saw Dan and Lloyd. Predictably, Dan was staring at his phone, only glancing up long enough to nod hello. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a hoodie that looked snug on his squishy body, having done nothing to dress up for the occasion but put on a clean hoodie. Lloyd, decked out in his silk shirt and pinstripe pants, gave her the lingering once-over in a way that made her wish she'd brought a jacket. A big, heavy jacket.

“Going all out to win the scavenger hunt, are we?” He smiled, and it would have looked friendly if Isabel didn't know him.

She feigned nonchalance, looking down at herself as if noticing her outfit for the first time. “Just grabbed something from the suitcase.”

“Hey, did you guys see the new survival game from Wombat?” Dan asked as the elevator arrived, and that brought a blissful change in conversation.

Isabel had seriously underestimated what it would be like to walk two blocks in subfreezing temperatures. By the time they got to the Marriott, she couldn't feel her arms, and she hadn't suitably warmed up until the end of the elevator ride. At least the bone-chilling cold distracted her from any anxiety about her outfit, since she couldn't think of anything but the unpleasantness of the weather. How did people
live
in this part of the world?

The guy who opened the suite door when they knocked welcomed them in with a wave of the arm and a smile. She felt a sudden rush of shyness as she walked inside and saw the packed suite. Wingdings had rented one of the penthouse suites for this party, but even so, there had to be close to a hundred people packed inside. Music was blaring, and in the corner, a woman with short black hair and a shorter black dress was pouring drinks.

Matthew and Lloyd, both more at ease in these sorts of gatherings than she was, vanished into the crowd without a second glance at her. Dan hesitated, scoping out the room, probably choosing a likely target. Although he'd never been Isabel's type, she'd heard enough rumors of his extensive dating history to know that body type was not a hindrance in his ability to pick up women. Something about his nonchalance put women at ease, and if rumors held true, he was more likely than any of them to end up with a date at the end of the night. Matthew was closer to Dan than she was, and based on what Matthew had said, Dan was more active in the club scene than anyone he knew. Sure enough, after a moment's hesitation, he sauntered away to some young woman picking at a cheese plate.

The crowd was an even mix of men and women, even though the staff of these gaming companies was generally male. Convention parties weren't just for employees, though; she'd never been invited to one before, but from the stories she'd heard, companies tended to invite anyone hot who happened to pass by, to up their cred and make their company seem like the most desirable around. Otherwise, how would anyone besides Matthew find someone to hook up with? Isabel wondered if she was invited because she was a gamer, or because Eric thought she was hot, and felt surprised to discover either possibility was okay with her.

Isabel looked around for a familiar face and found none. Time for the bar.

She ordered a vodka and cranberry juice, a pretty standard drink for this type of event, not too complicated, with enough alcohol in it to loosen her up. She'd wanted to be invited to one of these parties, but now that she was here, she had no idea what to do with herself. She dug a dollar bill out of her pocket and dropped it into the tip cup, then took the plastic drink cup offered to her. The mix was stronger than she expected and made her head swim as she took the first gulp. It wouldn't do to get drunk too quickly; she wanted her wits about her.

“Hey, Isabel.”

At the sound of the voice behind her, Isabel turned to see Caleb approaching. The dim glow from the twinkle lights someone had strung up around the room—seriously, they brought twinkle lights?—was enough to highlight Caleb's smile, the bridge of his nose, and his beautiful green eyes.

“Hi.” Her head was still swimming, and this time, she wasn't sure it was the alcohol. It was more likely her relief at seeing a face she recognized coupled with a reminder that yeah, he was pretty fucking hot. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” He scratched the side of his beard with one finger, still smiling, then turned to the bartender and asked for a Jack and Coke. As she mixed it, popping open the can of cold Coca-Cola with a snap and a hiss, Caleb leaned on the makeshift bar and very obviously checked Isabel out. Actually checked her out, the head-to-toe scan, and even with her usual obliviousness she couldn't deny what he was doing. “You look . . . different from before.” He took the red plastic cup from the bartender and tucked a dollar into the tip cup.

“I don't feel the need to show off when I'm at work, thank you very much.” She drank again, feeling the alcohol's effect as her face heated up, annoyed at his comment. Maybe this friendly face wasn't so friendly.

“I'm sorry.” He apologized quickly, and his expression looked sincere. “I didn't mean to insult you. It's just that . . .” He paused, as if looking for the right words. She let him flounder until he continued. “You look really nice. And earlier, it seemed like you weren't the kind of person who cared about that sort of thing . . . and oh, shit, I'm fucking this all up.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Shit. Can I start over?”

His embarrassment amused her, softening her defenses. “Sure.” She held out a hand. “I'm Isabel.”

“Caleb.” He grinned at the reintroduction, relief written all over his face. “I really like your outfit, Isabel. Red is a nice color on you.”

“Thanks. You look nice, too.” She appreciated the opportunity to check him out, especially now that he was out of the garish yellow shirt: he was in the “dress pants and a nice shirt” camp, his sleeves rolled up to above his elbows. Too bad they weren't rolled up farther. She really wanted to get a look at his tattoos. The vodka was making her feel pleasantly warm, and although she was a long distance from drunk, she was finally beginning to appreciate the qualities of alcohol as a social lubricant.

Caleb took a sip of his Jack and Coke and looked past Isabel's shoulder, scanning the party before his gaze came to rest on her again. “So, you here with anyone?” He drifted away from the bar, moving to an open spot in the room and gesturing for her to follow.

She did, wondering if he was asking to be conversational, or if he was asking if she'd brought a date. Her confusion must have showed on her face, because he elaborated. “You know, are you alone?”

“Um, I walked over with the guys I came with.” Was that what he meant? “But I'm alone other than that. What about you?”

“I'm here alone for the whole weekend, actually.” Caleb smiled, and that was definitely a flirtatious smile. Isabel felt her temperature jump a few degrees. “I used to come every year with my partner, Henry, but he couldn't make it this year.”

So he was gay. Bummer. Isabel sure knew how to pick them. She took another sip of her drink. “I'm sorry. It must be hard to be apart.”

“What? Oh, no.” Caleb looked down into his cup and shook his head, laughing. “Not like that. Business partner. Henry and I used to be business partners. We ran a game design company, but it went under.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” She tried not to look too deeply into the relief she felt at the knowledge that Henry was a business partner and not a relationship partner. “So what are you doing now for work?”

“I've got a couple of possibilities lined up. But let's not mix business with pleasure. Can we talk about something else?” He winked at her.

“Okay, sure.” She actually felt relief that he didn't want to talk about work and wished she hadn't brought it up at all. It was hard enough to pick up a guy, and conflating that with work felt all sorts of wrong. If she could help it, she would keep work talk this weekend limited to when she was actually working. “How did you get invited tonight?”

“I did some freelance artwork for Wingdings back in the day,” Caleb said. “I guess they still remember me. Plus, I'm good at making friends.” As if to illustrate his point, a stranger walked over and clapped Caleb on the back. The man was short, plump, and bearded, and he wore a polo shirt with no insignia. “Hey, Caleb! Good to see you here, man. Who's this?”

“This is Isabel. It's her first DiceCon.” Caleb gestured between them. “Isabel, this is Paul.”

“Nice to meet you, Isabel.” The man shook her hand with enthusiasm. “I work with Drive Entertainment.”

Isabel felt a flush of recognition. “That's awesome! I love Drive.”

“So you've heard of us? Impressive. We don't get many lady gamers, I'm afraid. Too much blood and guts.” Paul laughed heartily, but Isabel only managed a tight smile, her feelings of excitement about meeting someone from Drive fading away. Fortunately, Paul excused himself, heading over to a clump of men on one of the couches.

Caleb watched him leave, then turned back to Isabel. “You get that a lot?”

She watched him go with undisguised irritation on her face. “Yeah.”

“I guess it goes with the industry.” He sipped from his drink.

“It shouldn't, though.” She turned to face him. “It's bullshit.”

Caleb paused, tipping his head to the side. After a moment, he nodded. “You're right. I guess it shouldn't.” He gestured to an empty pair of chairs near the window, and they sat down. This spot was comfortable, and now that they were farther from the speakers, they didn't have to speak so loudly to be heard.