Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

to work in the kitchen too.” She looked around and saw the giant trees from outside. “It’s nice how open this place is.”

“It's one of the reasons I wanted to live here, apart from the views,” Isaac said. “The acoustics are good too. I like the noise of rain against the windows. It’s quite soothing. Do you?”

He’s a sweetie. “Yeah, sure.”

Stripe clocked Isaac’s apprehension, especially when he saw her gear. They looked daunting to the untrained eye. He agreed to wear a microphone. She laughed at him, not intentionally, he reminded her of a deer in headlights. “Don’t be nervous. I don’t bite.”

Isaac smiled with unease, especially when she leaned close and attached the microphone to the collar of his shirt. Stripe began with an exercise as he was clearly nervous. She asked him random questions like his favourite basketball team and so forth. They got into the rhythm and the topic of his education sprang up.

“I studied engineering at NYU,” he replied during their conversation.

Her heart froze for a moment and she lost track of her thoughts.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem concerned.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that I...went to high school with someone who also attended NYU.”

“Who was it?”

“A friend of mine. Cameron...Storms?”

“Name rings a bell. I don’t recall him.”

“It was a she.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I remember her now. We... weren’t friends, but she was in the same class as me. She... was a tough cookie.”

“Yeah, she was,” Stripe said, butterflies waking up in her stomach. “Wow, it feels weird talking about her. We’d promised to stay in contact after high school finished. I wrote her a letter but she never got back to me. Probably busy with college, living the high life in the Big Apple I guess.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Anyway, fuck her. This time is about you. Let’s get on with the interview.”

Isaac laughed, showing his teeth. “You’re not a typical journalist, are you?”

“Never heard of a typical journalist before.” Stripe smirked. “You’re not like most CEOs I’ve met.”

His cheeks blossomed a rosy pink and he hid his face fleetingly with his coffee mug. “My colleagues call me Lurch when it comes to my managerial side.”

She frowned. “I’ve seen The Addams Family. Why would they call you that?”

“Because of the way I look. I didn’t get my height and pale complexion by choice.”

“Oh, okay. I can see the association now. Anyway, I always found Lurch to be a gentle giant. He looks terrifying but, on the inside, he’s as sweet as a puppy. I’d take it as a compliment.”

“I do. I’m very lucky that I get on with my co-workers and I hope they know that I appreciate them.”

“You’re very kind.” Stripe grabbed her notepad and announced that her recorder was ready to work. “So, how come you wanted me to interview you?”

“I read your article about Charles Libby. I thought it was wonderful the way you wrote about his life. It was really moving.”

That’s one for the memory banks. “Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. So my latest article made you request for my help?”

“I like your writing style and I felt it would work great for introducing my company.”

“It’s only been out for a couple of days,” she said, laughing under her breath. “The Charles Libby story was pretty dark. Are you absolutely sure you want me to write for you? We’ve got plenty of other journalists back at the office that would do a better job, maybe match the voice you’re looking for as you want to pull in more revenue. I like to map out my articles as if I’m telling a story.”

“I’d like you to write it, Stripe.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I’m certain.”

“Well, I’ve given you a fair warning.”

Isaac smiled, sucking up his coffee. “You have, and I’m happy with your work representing my business.”

“Some critics out there would say you’re making a big mistake.”

“Fuck them.”

Stripe smirked at his remark. “How did you start Virtisan?”

“I got the idea back in college. I was at lectures and seminars during the day, then coding in my dorm room until the early hours of the morning. It took a really long time to get off the ground.”

“I bet it did. Starting your own company isn’t easy. How did it grow?”

“After I graduated, I was working as a computer programmer for a cybersecurity software company and I casually mentioned it to a colleague of mine. They thought it had potential. We brainstormed it, took the idea to a couple of conventions, and I managed to get backers for it.” Isaac adjusted his shirt and cleared his throat. “I wanted to create something where people wouldn’t feel lonely, where there was someone to talk to, and where they could display their creativity.”

Stripe glanced from taking notes. “How does it work exactly?”

“As easy as setting up an email.” Isaac reached over the work surface and grabbed his laptop. “Do you want to create an account?”

“Sure, go for it.”

Isaac tipped the screen so she could see what he was doing. He helped her through the signing-up process. Throughout the conversation, she noticed his eyes would linger, but she shook it off. Mind back on the job, girl.

“So what would you say is a hobby or pass time of yours?” Isaac asked.

“I like movies.”

“Any particular genre?”

“Horror, science fiction or the occasional crime thriller. You?”

“Not a movie person myself, but I watch them when I have company.” Isaac turned back to the screen. “So I add horror in the search bar and here are your results.”

Stripe saw an endless collection of stories, articles, videos and pictures. “Wow, it’s like a library.” She took over, swiping her finger on the keypad. Her skin came in contact with Isaac’s wrist and he pulled away, muttering something lightly under his breath. She felt a pleasant sensation when it happened. “So what makes this different from any other search engine?”

Isaac smiled, as if he’d been waiting, eagerly excited, to answer. “Everything that you see on here, the content you’re looking at, users have