What could have been ten minutes or an hour later, Luke groaned and rolled out of bed. He opened a few drawers in his dresser, pulled on a pair of jeans and, as he did every day, grabbed the first shirt he saw. He was about to tug it over his head when he stopped and actually looked at the shirt. It was, like almost all the T-shirts he owned, a video game shirt.

This particular tee had an image from a space alien shooter that had been popular in the eighties. He loved that game. He loved the eighties. He loved this shirt. But Jay had a point. Perhaps Luke’s closet could do with a refresh. Nothing major, though. He didn’t care how much his friend made fun of him, he was not getting rid of his collection. But he could add a few new things. Maybe some shirts like the one he wore last night.

The one Julia had liked.

Luke shook himself and put on the shirt. Eighties space aliens would have to do for now. He rushed through the rest of his morning routine, his mind on Julia the entire time. She’d said she liked his shirt because it matched his eyes. Warmth tickled in his belly at the memory. He caught the goofy grin spreading across his half-shaved face and raised a mocking brow at his reflection. Enough nonsense. He was going to be late.

Meetings were held in the employee rec center located on the far southwest side of the floor reserved for staff. The space had turned out to be another unexpected perk of the job. There was an indoor pool, a small kitchen stocked with snacks and drinks, and best of all, a game room furnished with plenty of seating areas and a giant flat screen for video presentations.

He stopped to grab a bottle of high-octane cold brew from the staff fridge and chugged half of it right there. It was the closest he could get to injecting caffeine directly into his veins. Feeling more alert already, Luke found a spot on one of the many couches scattered about the game room and greeted the other employees as they trickled in. He took a quick head count, pleased to note that most of the actors participating in the sim were already in attendance.

Good. Following the morning briefing, they were supposed to head down for breakfast with the guest players at eight. One face, however, was absent. Zach. Figures. Captain Romance Hero probably needed to catch up on his beauty sleep. Luke gritted his teeth. Maybe he could arrange a drive-by yapping of the corgi parade.

At precisely seven a.m., Mrs. W. swept into the room in a swish of purple satin, said parade of corgis at her heels. Penelope brought up the rear, face wreathed in smiles as she dodged the little fur balls.