Geekus Interruptus Read Online Free Page B

pushed his boiled red potatoes around with a fork and avoided
the broccoli casserole entirely. A thick slice of roast beef (rare, the way he
liked it) sat untouched, bleeding into a pool in the center of his dinner
plate.
    “How’s work going?” Marcy asked.
    She was hesitant to chatter about her day
like she usually did, for fear of blurting out her recent spy activities or
demanding he tell her what the fuck he was up to. Her nerves were on the edge
of something. A dangerous something that could easily blow her cover. So she
tried to make small talk and found herself unable to ask her husband a single
leading question about his recent work. Like, How’s the X account?   Or, Did you complete the Y software
design?   Over the last year or
so, she hadn’t taken much interest in the details of Jess’s work life. And it
showed.
    “Slow,” he replied. “Maybe I’m over the
crest.”
    He stabbed an innocent chunk of potato and
brought it to his mouth before setting it back on the plate where he seemed to think
it belonged.
    “What crest? What’re you talking about?”
    He looked at her, or maybe through her.
    “What I mean, Marce,” he said slowly, as if
talking to a dimwitted child, “is when you hit a certain age, you no longer come
up with worthwhile innovations. Your brain is incapable of making the connections
required for new leaps in design. In the field of mathematics, this brick wall
to creativity can appear by the time you turn thirty. I’m afraid software
engineering’s a young man’s game.”
    She laughed but stopped abruptly when she
realized he was serious. Cresting at thirty? It seemed a ridiculous concern for
a brilliant man like Jess.
    “I’m not kidding, Marce. And there’s plenty
of scientific research on brain development to back up what I’m saying. I’ve got
maybe ten years left, then I’ll be fully over the hill. While the youngsters
fresh off their post-docs take over the world.”
    He popped a potato chunk into his mouth,
then thought better of it and spit into his linen napkin. Geeks had the worst table
manners. She’d had to learn to live with it.
    Marcy reached for his hand and covered it
with her own.
    “I’m sure you have plenty of genius left in
you, darling,” she said.
    In fact, she had no doubt. The idea he was
washed up at thirty-one was nonsense. Was it this sort of crazy thinking that had
propelled him into the arms of another woman? Was he suffering from decaying
self-esteem, bizarre geek phobias, some sort of engineer’s block?
    An idea formed in her mind. Wouldn’t hot
sex with his devoted wife help boost his deflation? Couldn’t the old in-and-out
be a kind of cure for his work-related depression?
    She stood up and posed, pushing her breasts
and ass into pre-coital position, moving her hips back and forth, swaying gently
just beyond his nose. Jess continued to stare blankly at his bloody beef.
    Marcy sucked in her breath. She hated being
turned down. It was totally humiliating. But Jess seemed to be in need of a
good fucking. Maybe she could win back his attention using the old tricks. She
swallowed her pride and prepared for action.
    Slowly, loudly, dramatically, she unzipped
her tennis skirt, daring him to glance over. His eyes drifted to her hips, then
up to her face. Marcy smiled, licking her lips and pouting as she dropped the
little, white skirt to the floor. She thrust out her chest and, quickly now,
lifted her tight, white T-shirt over her head. No bra, no panties, recently
waxed, glistening with coconut oil, and doused liberally with Truth or Dare.
She walked to him, watching as he stared glumly at her approach.
    “Maybe this will make you feel young again,”
she said, taking his index finger and sliding it inside her. “After all, you’re
only as young as I feel.”
    He snatched his hand away like her vagina
was on fire. Pushing his chair back, he retreated rapidly. His face reddened from
anger or arousal. Or something else, something more