Free PLAY by Piper Lawson

here.”
    “Oh, you are good at math,” he teased. I shot him a look. “We have a couple coders in Tokyo, one in Montana. A sound guy in Portland. And an artist with a farm outside Cape Town. Max doesn’t care as long as the work happens and everybody keeps a lid on what we’re really doing.”
    “Manufacturing Ebola?”
    He laughed. “No. We’re making the best games ever to grace the planet. But since Oasis came out and Titan went from nobody to legit in two weeks flat, the competition’s always looking for dirt. Max likes to keep a lid on things.”
    “Right.”
    “Hey everyone.” I jumped as Riley raised his voice. Heads turned toward us, including Max’s. He looked irritated to have had his conversation disturbed. “This is Payton. She’s helping us get the money to pay your salaries. So she wants anything, you give it to her.”
    If they were surprised, they didn’t look it.
    Riley introduced me around individually until my head was a whirlwind of names. Terry and Jenna were the lead developers and probably had ten years on me. Claire could’ve passed for a college co-ed. She, Tom, and Zane were working on Evolve. Jimmy, who looked like a biker, and Muppet, the kid who’d been playing pinball, were working on Phoenix.
    By the time Riley finished giving me the tour it was after ten. I was startled to realize the Pit was still humming. Jenna, Terry and Tom were meeting about something. Muppet, the other girl and two guys whose names I’d already forgotten were still steadily typing away at their desks. With the exception of one guy, who appeared to be on email, the others were entering lines of white text into black voids.
    “It’s Jimmy’s night to put the kids to bed,” Riley explained, as if I’d realized one of them was missing.
    I followed him into the kitchen, where he grabbed a Red Bull out of the fridge. “You want one?” he offered.
    I shook my head. “Thanks.”
    “We got lots.” I leaned in to look at the contents of the fridge. Along with a few Rubbermaid containers were at least two dozen cans of energy drinks in three different varieties.
    Jesus.
    “So what, everyone works around the clock?”
    Riley popped the tab and poured the dark contents into a glass, taking a long and grateful drink. “Pretty much. Most of the team’s working on the engine but some of it’s the game. We need to have it all done in six months if we’re going to meet projections. That’s what we were reviewing.”
    “And who does that—Max?”
    “Me and Max. I’m not a typical lawyer,” he explained, reading my mind, “and the two of us go back. Other questions?”
    “Yeah. Why am I here?”
    “We need money for the game. I signed off on the original ask—the twenty mil—but apparently Max forgot a few things in that estimate.” Riley rolled his eyes like his friend had forgotten to pick up the mail. “Max said he’d fix it himself, but he’s not the most diplomatic.”
    “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
    Riley grinned. “I was shocked he got the Alliance funding, if I’m honest.”
    “Tech’s our new priority. Management was drooling when they saw you on the prospect list.”
    He lifted a shoulder. “That explains it. Max doesn’t know when to ask for help. But what genius does, right?”
    Riley led me out of the kitchen and through the Pit to a room that was roughly underneath Max’s office. “This is me.”
    I looked around. Instead of Riley’s desk being against the windows like Max’s, it was partway down the interior wall facing the door. The rest of the space had a beanbag chair of the same variety as the ones in the Pit, some well-used bookshelves, and a neglected-looking fern.
    “I’ll rig up a desk for you,” Riley offered.
    “I’ll take the beanbag chair,” I deadpanned, but he didn’t get the joke.
    “Your call.”
    Ten million dollar rounding errors. Guys named Muppet. Beanbag chairs and pinball. This was worlds away from Alliance, from everything I