Witt tilts his head. “You had the same therapist in college. Bro that girl from Michigan must have done a number on you.”
I can’t get a deep enough breath. “No, Annika… Anna was my tutor, but I know her last name wasn’t Morrow.”
“You had a tutor?”
“Damn, you really do live in your own little gaming world. Remember we saw her at the pizza parlor when Noelle told us she was pregnant? Annika was my physiology tutor.”
He crouches in front of me. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need her number and her last name.”
“Why?”
One word, that’s all.
I rub my face. “Why didn’t I pay attention?”
“Because you were busy being a college football god.” Witt shrugs like it’s a fact.
It’s not.
Was I popular in college? Yes. Did I go to parties? Yes. Did I leave alone? Most of the time.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He watches me for a few beats and then says, “You pissed her off.”
“Oh, I definitely pissed her off.”
“Seems like she got the last laugh since she’s your therapist now.” A chuckle gets caught in his throat when I give him the death stare, but I can’t argue with his logic.Witt nods toward the door. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“My room.”
Being invited in to his sanctuary is rare. “You’re helping me?”
He looks back over his shoulder. “I’ll get her cell…” His fingers move fast over the keys. “I just need to log into the Armadillo system.”
“I forgot you’re an Armadillo employee. Is your gaming division connected to the rest of the company.”
“It’s a partnership and no.”
He doesn’t offer more. He usually doesn’t but hisgaming empire is expanding. Somehow, he’s the youngest and has more money than all of us. Would anyone ever know? No.
Entering Witt’s bedroom looks more like a tech command center than a bedroom.
Three monitors.
Two headsets.
At least ten gaming controllers.
Whiteboards covered in diagrams.
“What the hell?” I mutter. I haven’t been inside in years. My room was first up the steps so that’s the playroom, far away from him.
He explains the drawing. “I’m analyzing the best way to build the Armadillo esports team.”