Chapter 75 – The Morning Run Interlude
"Hey, Ron—what are you doing here?" Max looked at him in surprise, delighted. "What brings you to this neighborhood?"
"As you can see, I'm out for a morning run." Ron swung his arms in an exaggerated jogging motion—but his feet didn't move an inch.
"Hi, Chestnut." Caroline's little horse recognized Ron and gave a friendly snort, rubbing its head affectionately against his shoulder.
"If I'm not mistaken, you live in Pasadena," Max said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Don't tell me you ran all the way from there to downtown L.A. this morning?" She suddenly looked as if she'd figured it out. "You're meeting Caroline for a date, aren't you?"
Ron put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in. "Why couldn't I be here to go on a date with you instead?"
"Me? Yeah, right. I'm not some princess come down from the heavens," Max scoffed, but there was an undeniable touch of jealousy in her voice.
Ron dipped his head and kissed her lightly on the top of her head. She shivered just a little, but didn't pull away—and he thought that was a promising sign.
"I'm not sure how to explain this to you," he said helplessly, "but I really did come out here jogging. I started running, and after a while, I realized the streets looked familiar. Honestly." He spread his hands. "I've been staying in a hotel the last couple days—two back-to-back wrap parties."
"A hotel?" Max's voice rose sharply. "You don't mean the Marriott across the street, do you?"
"That's the one," Ron said, still puzzled. Though even as he answered, he felt a twinge of foreboding, though he couldn't quite say why.
"Ron!" Max's tone turned accusatory, practically vibrating with righteous indignation. "That's the Marriott! Their buffet is famous around here—it's practically a local legend! Do you have any idea how many girls in this neighborhood would happily spend the night with you if you just offered to take them there for dinner?"
She threw her hands in the air. "You've been eating there for two days, and you didn't invite me? And here I thought we were at least decent friends with benefits!"
At that moment, Ron finally realized what that bad feeling had been.
Max wasn't like any other girl he'd ever known. She was the kind of woman who would gasp in wonder at Caroline's old "shoe rack" heater, never mind the Marriott buffet—which, in her mind, was practically synonymous with luxury itself.
But even knowing that, there hadn't been any way to bring Max along. The first day, he'd been dragged there by Megan for a big Hollywood celebration. And Megan was jealous as hell—she'd always insisted on calling herself his girlfriend. God only knew what she'd have done if she'd run into Max.
Ron looked at Max, who was still fuming, and suddenly got an idea. Without a word, he grabbed Chestnut's bare back, swung himself up in one smooth motion, and sat tall, looking down at her. Then he extended his hand gallantly.
"My lady," he said solemnly, "may I have the honor of inviting you to breakfast, as an apology? The hotel breakfast isn't quite as extravagant as the dinner buffet, but the bacon and ham are actually pretty fantastic. And I happen to have two breakfast vouchers left."
His room was a double, so having two vouchers wasn't unusual. From his experience yesterday, the ham was genuine Iberico—definitely worth a taste.
"It won't take too long, right?" Max was clearly wavering. She glanced up at him on horseback—and, truth be told, Ron did look ridiculously handsome sitting bareback on that little horse. "I have to get to work later."
Riding bareback wasn't something just anyone could do—it took the experience of a seasoned cowboy. In American culture, it was the kind of thing considered downright manly.
While Max was still gasping in surprise, Ron seized the moment, grabbed her hand, and pulled her up onto the horse behind him in one fluid motion.
"Since there's no saddle, it's going to be a pretty bumpy ride," he warned, glancing over his shoulder. "But it's just a short distance—is that okay?"
"Of course." Max lifted her chin, full of confidence.
"All right—giddy up!"
Ron gave Chestnut a gentle nudge in the flank with his heels. The clever little horse immediately sprang forward, galloping down the street.
They reached the hotel entrance in no time. With the doorman staring in slack-jawed amazement, Ron dismounted like a general from an old movie and swept Max down into his arms.
After that, breakfast—and then heading up to his room to soothe Max's lingering annoyance—seemed perfectly natural.
If she hadn't needed to get to her nanny job, the two of them probably would've spent the whole day wrapped up together in that hotel.
But there was no helping it. Even with all of Ron's silver-tongued persuasion, he couldn't talk Max out of going back to what, in his eyes, wasn't even that good of a job. In the end, he had to let her leave.
Ron was just about to crawl back into bed for a nap when Howard's call came in, dragging him awake again.
"Ron, we've got a problem."
"What problem?" Ron sat up, rubbing his face. "Didn't you say this little toy would be ready in a single night?"
"It's all Rajesh's fault," Howard immediately said, throwing Rajesh under the bus without hesitation. "I overestimated his coding skills. That idiot can't even get the most basic flight control functions working—"
He didn't get to finish. From the phone, Ron could hear Rajesh's furious protests in the background.
Flight control software for a drone? Ron didn't know much about that. But even he could imagine: controlling the speed of four rotors to keep the thing stable, plus letting it move freely in every direction—definitely no simple task.
And Rajesh was an astrophysicist, not an engineer. He couldn't really be blamed.
"Fine. Hold on. I'll be right there."
Resigned, Ron got dressed, checked out of the hotel, and drove to Caltech.
Half an hour later, in Howard's lab, Ron looked down at the "unfinished product" lying on the workbench.
Though Howard called it a prototype, in Ron's eyes it already looked almost identical to the drones he'd seen back in his old world.
Rubbing his temples—still aching from Howard and Rajesh's bickering—he sighed.
"All right," he said. "One of you want to tell me exactly what the problem is?"
Rajesh subtly jabbed Howard in the ribs, urging him to explain.
"Uh…" Howard cleared his throat. "As you can see, I've finished all the mechanical design work. The sensors are installed, everything's wired up. From a hardware perspective, it's basically a complete, working device."
"So why can't it fly?"
"We need software," Howard said patiently. "A flight control program to handle stabilization and movement. You see, it's like—"
Ron cut him off, raising a hand.
"I did graduate from Harvard, you know. Even if I majored in the humanities, I'm not an idiot. So if I'm understanding correctly—what you're telling me is, all this thing needs now is the right software, and it'll fly?"
Both scientists nodded in unison.
Ron hesitated, then asked, "Do you think Sheldon has the skills to write this program?"
Of course, he knew that at Caltech there were plenty of people perfectly capable of doing the job. But he didn't want to bring some outsider into his project if he could avoid it.
Unfortunately, his hope was quickly dashed. The two of them exchanged a look, thought for a moment, then shook their heads.