Chapter 59: Girls Who Live in Sweatpants Just Want to Have Fun…And Not End Up in a Freezer

“Welcome to Shalhoub and Sons Electronics,” Gracie began, hearing the tingle of the door’s bell. She would have continued had she not noticed the long dark shadow that fell over her.

She looked up to see what kind of large human being was standing before the counter in the dingy, little store.

“No shit,” Gracie remarked. “It’s you.”

Raemon Kentworth looked down at Gracie with a wooden face—his usual. But there was a determined glint in his eyes.

“You must be Gracie,” he said.

Gracie set her gaming console down. “You must be my best friend’s fuck buddy.”

Raemon eventually responded. “Yes. I need to talk to you about Octavia.”

“I figured,” Gracie said casually. “Shoot.”

Raemon idly glanced around the store. “What does Octavia…like?”

“Hmm,” Gracie started, “she tells me these things, but sometimes I don’t listen. Let’s see…I know she likes video games. And coding.

“Her favorite color is turquoise. And she generally prefers wearing clothes that are at least two sizes bigger than her.”

“But what things does she really like?” Raemon asked.

“What are you getting at?” Gracie inquired.

Raemon hesitated. “I want to get something for her, something she’ll love. But I don’t know what she wants.”

“Knowing Octavia, it wouldn’t be that hard to figure out. You could probably just get her an ice cream and she’d be a happy camper.”

Raemon shook his head. “No. I want to do something…special.”

Gracie raised an eyebrow. “I take it by that you also mean expensive?”

Raemon said nothing to that.

Gracie sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. But I would think you’d realize the Birkin wouldn’t quite do it.”

“So I’ve found out.”

“She appreciated the thought, though.”

“That’s not enough for me.” Raemon scowled. “What kind of woman doesn’t like designer handbags?”

“There’s a measly handful of us out there,” Gracie replied.

“You wouldn’t have accepted it?”

“Oh, I would have. But only to sell it on eBay.”

His scowl deepened. “You’d still have more of a use for it than Octavia. That girl is impossible to figure out.”

“She’s not really.”

Raemon raised an eyebrow.

“With Octavia,” Gracie began explaining, “what you see is what you get. So if you want to buy her something…special…just think of what things a girl who spends most of her life in sweatpants would like.”

“I have no idea what those things are,” Raemon said bluntly.

“I dunno, buy her a five-hundred-dollar gift card for the Nintendo store,” Gracie suggested. At the look on Raemon’s face, she realized the number she’d given was too paltry to even be considered.

She momentarily considered suggesting something she wanted and convincing Raemon it was in line with Octavia’s tastes.

But in spite of all the things she said and did to contradict it, Gracie was Octavia’s friend.

“Look,” Gracie said, “some time back Octavia forced me to go with her to this weird antique auction thing. It was all for old tech—landlines and copy machines from like the seventies or something.

“But vintage stuff. She, of course, couldn’t afford any of it, but she went just to see it all. Apparently, she likes that shit.”

Raemon listened with interest. When she finished talking, he said, “Thank you. I think that’s just the information I was looking for.”

Gracie watched through the smudged window as he climbed into a black SUV and his chauffeur drove him away.

To think Raemon Kentworth, the billionaire, had come all the way to her family’s little store in the cramped, run-down, lesser-known part of the city—just to ask about the right present for his ‘fuck buddy.’

She shook her head. “Octavia, what have you done to that man?”

***

“What is this place?” Octavia asked, looking around her.

“You’ll see,” Raemon replied, taking her hand.

They were standing at the end of a wide stone path leading up to a large house.

All kinds of exotic plants dotted the grounds around the house and a lazy, winding stream snaked through the compound, cutting through a small fishpond to the right of where they stood.

It had only been an hour since they’d stepped off Raemon’s private plane on some unknown private airstrip.

Unknown to Octavia because she had no idea where they had been going when she got on the plane, and no idea where they were when they got off.

Even the smiling attendants on the flight had responded to Octavia’s inquiries with pleasant, evasive answers.

“This is why I always fly commercial,” Octavia muttered to herself, resettling in the plush, spacious seat next to Raemon’s.

Raemon sat with a laptop open before him, smiling knowingly at his screen. Clearly, he enjoyed Octavia’s ignorance.

The flight had landed, and they both climbed into the waiting SUV. After an hour’s drive, they’d been dropped off at the house.

“We already agreed my dismembered body isn’t going to end up in a freezer somewhere, right?” Octavia said as she followed Raemon down the gray stone path.

“Is there somewhere else you want your dismembered body to be kept?” Raemon responded calmly.

“Ha. Ha,” Octavia said. “Just remember”—she pointed to herself—“Krav Maga.”

“Noted,” Raemon said.

The wide wooden doors opened slowly for them, and there stood an elderly woman in a black-and-white uniform.

Raemon spoke to her in a language Octavia couldn’t understand, but it sounded European. The woman nodded and ushered them in.

The lady led both her and Raemon through the house, which was quite big on the inside.

Almost everything in the space looked like the oldest of antiques, all carefully refurbished and set in place around the home.

The uniformed woman led them to a set of doors that opened to a downward staircase. As they descended, fluorescent lights lit up, illuminating their path with each step.

“Whoa,” Octavia breathed as they came to the bottom of the staircase. It was an expansive hall with a high ceiling.

There were no windows, which made sense since they were obviously deep underground. Soft white lights lined the gray stone walls.

Each light hung over a pedestal of some kind, illuminating the various objects set on each of the stands.

The uniformed woman bowed, said something else to Raemon, and then set off back up the staircase. Octavia soon heard the doors close, leaving the two of them in the silence of the hall.

“You know, I was just kidding about the dismembering my body thing,” Octavia said.

Raemon’s eyes lit up in amusement. “Just as well, our host would hate to have any of his possessions stained with blood.”

“Who is he?” Octavia asked. “Does he own all of this?”

“Yes,” Raemon answered. “He’s an old acquaintance of mine. Likes to collect things.”

Octavia was just about to ask, ‘what things?’ but then she recognized a particular item on a stand ahead of her.

“Holy fucking hell!” she exclaimed. She dashed to the stand. “Is that what I think it is?”

Raemon walked over to join her. “You’ll have to tell me.”

“It’s the original version of the CoreTech desktop computer model!” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a bundle of glee.

“This was the very first model they made! There’s only, like, five versions still around today. I can’t believe I’m looking at one!”

“Try it out,” Raemon said.

Octavia’s eyes shot to his face in alarm. “I can’t do that. This is an antique. It probably doesn’t even work.” She looked over the setup. The whole system was arranged as if it were ready to use.

“It does,” Raemon said. “Everything in here does, he made sure of that.”

“Who? The collector guy?”

“Yes.”

“Won’t he mind people just touching his things?”

“He would. But I requested special permission for you to do so.”

You couldn’t have missed the expression of dumbstruck awe that came over Octavia’s face. She turned back to the old, clunky computer system, and pressed a button.

Sure enough, its archaic screen blinked to life.

“Oh. My. GOD.” Octavia squealed. “I’m actually using the CoreTech 2000!”

She spent a few minutes reverently typing at its keyboard while Raemon patiently stood by and watched.

Then her eyes glanced around the room, and she saw another piece of technology from before the time she was born.

She was off like a light, babbling out a string of facts about this computer model or that PC system.

Her only audience was Raemon, and he seemed to be enjoying himself as well. Though not necessarily from the thrill of watching different antique computer systems power on.

“HOLY SHIT,” Octavia exclaimed, stopping at yet another device. This one was a clunky-looking laptop.

“What’s the story for this one?” Raemon asked.

“This is Ultima’s Crystal Charter. It’s one of the very first PCs ever made. You could only use it to type documents and perform math operations with the calculator.

“It was just a regular calculator too—not even a scientific one.”

Octavia turned the device on and giddily stared at the screen. As it powered on, she brought her hands to her cheeks in delight.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said, gazing at the dull-gray screen and bright-green text forming sentences on it.

Raemon stood behind her as she typed commands into the keyboard. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the back of her head.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Um…YES. God, I only ever dreamed of knowing what this feels like. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Seeing how far technology has come.”

A dreamy look entered her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe what computers can do today looking at this thing.”

Her smile widened. “That’s why I love it so much. I feel like this Charter was the beginning of a new thing.

“Every time I see tech like this, I get excited thinking of what we could have in the future. Of what I could design for the future!”

“Do you want it?” Raemon asked.

Octavia turned to face him, her brow lowered. “What do you mean?”

“Would you like to own the Crystal Charter?”

“Well…yes, I suppose. It would be like a dream come true. But there’s no way I could—”

“It’s yours,” Raemon said.

Octavia’s face went numb. She opened her mouth to speak, but words didn’t come out.

“What…what do you mean, ‘it’s mine’?” she finally stammered out.

Raemon gave her a small smile, then brought his hand to her cheek. “This archaic piece of tech is yours to own, if you want it.”

“But…but…it’s an antique. It…it belongs to the collector guy, right?”

“And he’s generously offered to donate it,” Raemon said.

“Raemon,” Octavia said, “I know that’s not true. This thing must be worth…I don’t know…a bajillion dollars. And it’s the only one of its kind. No one’s going to just donate it.”

“Not to just anyone,” Raemon said, “but he made an exception for you.”

Octavia was quiet. She clung to Raemon’s arms that were circled around her.

“I really shouldn’t,” she said softly.

“I don’t see why not.”

“But I really want to.”

“Then it’s settled.”

Octavia felt a rush of pleasure as he leaned down to kiss her.

She couldn’t tell if it was from the warm pressure of his lips or the fact that she was now the proud owner of a computer that was pretty much only a typewriter and calculator rolled into one.

“Thank you,” Octavia breathed against his lips when they parted from hers.

“You’re happy with this, then?” Raemon asked, nudging his lips against her cheeks.

“Are you kidding me? I’m beyond happy! I’m…I’m…” She stopped.

“Damn it, I can’t think of another word. But I’ve never been this excited in my whole life. This feeling even beats the times my code actually work on the first try.”

Raemon read every emotion on her face with a satisfied smile in his eyes. “Does it beat the Birkin?”

Octavia grinned. “It totally beats the Birkin.”

He kissed her again, and she leaned into his embrace.

“Just one thing,” Octavia said.

“Name it and it’s yours.”

“Yeah, about that. Can we chill with the gift giving?” Octavia asked tentatively. “And by ‘we,’ I mean you.”

At the slight crease in Raemon’s brow, she continued. “I love the Charter! In fact, this one thing alone is worth more than anything else you could give me.”

“I like doing things for you, Octavia.”

“Can’t they be more normal things? Like something from Target?”

The look that came over Raemon’s face succinctly answered that question.

“Okay, okay,” Octavia replied, laughing. “But honestly, it’s just so much. It’s not like I’m only in this for…you know…all the stuff.”

“You saying that only makes me want to buy you more,” Raemon said.

Octavia gave him a strained smile. “Okay then, on second thought, I want you to buy me everything. All the Birkins. Instead of things from Target, I want you to buy me…um…Target itself!”

“If you say so,” Raemon said, kissing her neck.

Octavia’s sigh was weak as she melted under the feeling of his lips on her neck.

“Fuck it,” she said hopelessly.