Name Tags

During the silence, Mia opened her work notifications. Even this late, several new messages had come in.

"Here to take a break?"

She closed the window when he spoke.

"I was only going to look around for ten minutes. I'm not sure that counts."

"You look like you've been working."

She turned to him.

"You can see that?"

"Not what's on the screen. You keep looking at the same spot."

"Habit."

"I figured."

She smiled.

"I thought everyone came here to relax."

He said he'd been working until a little while ago himself. He was good at pretending to take a break.

His name still wasn't visible.

Rather than ask, she tried something else.

"What do you do?"

He thought for a moment.

"I automate the things people don't want to deal with."

"Like robot vacuums?"

"Less cute."

She laughed.

"I work on brands. Write ad copy, sell designs. That sort of thing."

"So you spend all day figuring out what people want."

"I make good money."

"That wasn't what I asked."

A moment later, he smiled.

Usually, a few sentences into a conversation, people wanted a name, a job title, a follower count. This man hadn't even asked her name.

She found that oddly relaxing.

"What do you want to know, then?"

He looked at her for a moment.

"Why you keep checking work when you're supposed to be taking a break."

Only then did she check how long she'd been logged in.

Twenty minutes.

Twice as long as she'd meant to stay.

"How did you know?"

"You keep doing it."

Apparently, she was still looking at the same spot even with the work window closed. Embarrassed, she lowered her hands to her knees.

"You look tired, too," he added.

"You trust the faces in here?"

"Not entirely."

"But you'll tell a complete stranger she looks tired?"

He looked at her briefly.

"Sorry."

The apology came so quickly that it caught her off guard.

"Now you're making me feel bad for saying anything."

"Should I take it back?"

"The apology?"

"Yes."

She laughed, and he joined her.

He didn't seem especially smooth, but talking to him was easy. A larger wave struck the breakwater, splashing her toes.

She lifted her feet before she could help it.

"Does this place actually exist?"

"It was made from recordings of a real place."

"Where?"

"They don't list the location."

She looked around again.

Old wooden steps, a little café, low chairs. Details she hadn't noticed before.

"Would you go if you knew where it was?"

"If I could fit it in."

She had the money. She could work anywhere.

Lately, though, thinking of somewhere she wanted to go was the hard part. She always told herself she'd decide after finishing the current job, and another one always followed. He said work kept him from moving around much, too.

"But you automate things. Can't you set it all up and take a break?"

"That's what I thought at first."

"Let me guess. You used the free time to build something else."

His smile gave him away.

"Is that how you date, too?" she teased.

"How?"

"Put anniversaries in the calendar. Schedule months of gifts in advance."

He considered it.

"That would be efficient."

"And spend all the time you save working?"

"I'd spend it with her."

Mia looked at him, surprised.

A small notification appeared between them.

Would you like to move somewhere quiet, just for two?

She closed it almost on reflex.

His hand moved at the same time.

Their eyes met.

A conversation that had been flowing easily suddenly felt awkward.

Mia looked at the sea.

She could at least ask his name.

Except asking now might sound like she wanted to see him again.

Then he stood.

"I have a meeting soon."

He brushed at the back of his pants, then stopped, as if remembering there was no actual sand to brush off.

After a brief hesitation, he said, "I'm Logan."

A name appeared.

LOGAN PARK

Mia made hers visible, too.

MIA COLLINS

"Mia."

"Nice to meet you."

Logan raised a hand slightly.

She couldn't tell whether he meant a handshake or a wave. She waved first, and he followed.

For someone with a meeting, he wasn't leaving very quickly.

He stood there with the exit window open, then said, "I'll be here around lunchtime tomorrow, too."

"Why are you telling me?"

"Just thought I'd mention it."

Then he was gone.

The breakwater seemed wider on that side.

She'd come here to be alone. Now that she was, it felt a little dull.

She checked the time. Forty-seven minutes.

At last, she left ARCA.

Her ceiling returned.

The damp towel was still wrapped around her hair. Her back felt warm against the sofa.

One name remained at the edge of her display.

Recently encountered: LOGAN PARK

There was a contact button.

She didn't press it.

He'd said he'd be there at lunchtime tomorrow.

Before closing the window, she read his name once more.