Meanwhile, Janie swallowed the last of her water, then glared at the bottle as though it had insulted her. "It's empty."
"Let me get you some more." I stood and stretched, happy for an excuse to move around. "Do you want ice?"
Janie nodded, handing over the bottle with one hand and rubbing her belly with the other. "The dictator in my stomach says yes."
Fiona giggled. "Dictator."
A knock sounded from the direction of the front door and Greg stood from the couch, sharing a small smile with his wife.
"Autocrat. Fascist. Emperor or Empress. Whatever. Its royal highness wishes for ice."
"Janie, you make me never want to be pregnant." Kat frowned with concern at our friend. "Are your muscle cramps getting any better?"
"No. And now I'm peeing myself every time I stand up. Or when I walk. Or sit. Or lie down," Janie said, her tone surly. "But don't use my pregnancy as a datapoint. Look at Fiona. She's glowing."
"Okay, Matt and I are heading out. Do you want me to pick anything up?" Greg asked, standing at the precipice to the family room, a figure hovering just behind him for a brief moment before stepping to Greg's side.
I glanced at them on my way to the kitchen and then stopped short, doing a startled double take.
Because the man standing next to Greg was that man.
That man.
My not-perfect match from the coffee shop.
Here. Now. Standing in Fiona's apartment.
What the flipping fracking fresh hell is this?
"It's you," I blurted before I knew what I was doing, raising an accusing finger at the newcomer. "It's him!"
3
Atlas Robot
A high mobility, humanoid robot designed to negotiate outdoor, rough terrain. Atlas can walk bipedally leaving the upper limbs free to lift, carry, and manipulate the environment. The design and production of it was overseen by the DARPA, an agency of the United States Department of Defense.
Source: Boston Dynamics
Derek's eyes darted to mine, and they widened with recognition and surprise.
"It's him?" Sandra looked up from her work in progress, as did everyone else. "Him who?"
"Derek!" I shook my hand in his direction and had no compunction about adding, "The weirdo from the coffee shop."
"Weirdo?" Derek asked, standing a bit straighter, his forehead wrinkling in that way I thought might have been adorable before I determined he was a psychopath.
"That's Derek?" Elizabeth's frowning gaze bounced back and forth between us.
He lifted his hands, palms out in the universal gesture for calm down. "I can explain-"
"Matt?" Fiona questioned sharply, her brow creasing with suspicion.
"Yes. I'm Matt. But she's also correct." He lifted his chin toward me and said evenly, "I was Derek, or sometimes I'm Derek."
I flinched, my mind a muddled mess. "What? How can someone 'sometimes' go by a different name?"
"Sometimes you're Derek?" Sandra set her knitting to one side, her tone gaining a hard edge. "What does that mean?"
"You filthy bird." Greg sounded delighted. "Have you been posing as a fetishist named Derek?"
"What? No." Derek or Matt or whatever his name was turned his big brown eyes to me and shook his head. "It's not like that."
"Then what is it like?" This question came from Alex, and plunged the room into stark silence. Alex was . . . well, he was odd. And his voice had a certain quality, one that forced you to listen to it and to him. But presently, something about his tone made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight.
He-who-claimed-to-be-Matt glanced at Alex and he surveyed the younger man. "It was in pursuit of science. An experiment."
"An experiment?" Alex asked, looking dissatisfied with the answer.
"What do you mean experiment?" Sandra stood, her hands on her hips.
"Uh, it's what's called a deception study. Self-reported behaviors are riddled with bias. So we observe in a non-traditional laboratory setting. Only," Matt turned an apologetic smile on me, "I'm not usually the one taking the interview. Dr. Merek typically fills that role."
"Who is Dr. Merek?" I asked dumbly, not at all following the conversation.
"Derek," Matt said simply, as though this explained everything.
"What?" Elizabeth was growing impatient.
"Derek is Dr. Merek. Dr. Derek Merek," Matt clarified.
"What an unfortunate name," Janie said with a small frown.
"What are you talking about? It rhymes." Sandra shook her head at our friend. "I've always wanted a rhyming name, but nothing rhymes with Sandra."