“Anyway, did you know I’m finishing up here soon?”
“No, why?” The little flirt-bubble inside my stomach bursts. Game over.
“A buddy and I are developing a new self-publishing platform. My last day is in a couple of weeks. This is my last all-staff.”
“Well that’s a shame. Not for me. For B and G.” My clarification is as subtle as a love-struck schoolgirl.
Trust me to not notice a cute guy in my midst. He’s been sitting right opposite me, for heaven’s sake. Now he’s leaving. Le sigh. It’s time I took a proper look at Danny Fletcher. Attractive, lean, and in shape, with soft blond curls cropped close to his head. He’s not tall, which suits me fine. He’s a Bexley, but not of the typical variety. His shirt, while crisp like a birthday card, is rolled at the cuffs. His tie is subtly patterned with tiny scissors and clipboards.
“Nice tie.”
He looks down and grins. “I do a LOT of cutting and pasting.”
I look sideways at the design team, mainly Bexleys, who all dress like funeral directors. I understand his decision to leave B&G, the most boring design team on this planet.
Next, I look at Danny’s left hand. Every finger is bare, and he drums them lightly against the table.
“Well, if you ever want to collaborate on an invention, I’m available.” His smile is mischievous.
“You’re freelancing as an inventor as well as reinventing self-publishing?”
“Exactly.” He clearly appreciates my clever wordplay.
I’ve never had anyone flirt with me at work. I sneak a look at Joshua. He’s talking to Mr. Bexley.
“It’ll be hard to invent something the Japanese haven’t thought of.”
He considers for a moment. “Like those little mops babies can wear on their hands and feet?”
“Yes. Have you seen those pillows shaped like a husband’s shoulder for lonely women to sleep on?”
His jaw is angular and shadowed with silvery stubble, and he has one of those slightly cruel mouths, until he smiles. Which he does now, looking right into my eyes.
“Surely you don’t need one of those, do you?” He drops his tone, below the chatter of everyone else. His eyes are sparkling, daring me.
“Maybe.” I make a rueful face.
“I’m sure you could find a human volunteer.”
I try to get us back on track. Unfortunately, it comes out sounding like I’m propositioning him. “Maybe it would be fun to invent something.”
Helene is tapping her papers into order and reluctantly I turn in my chair. Joshua is glaring at me with angry eyebrows. I use my brainwaves to transmit an insult to him, which he receives and pulls himself up straight.
“One more thing before we depart,” Mr. Bexley says. Helene tries to not scowl. She hates when he acts like he’s solely chairing meetings.
“We have an announcement about a restructure in the executive team,” Helene continues seamlessly, and Mr. Bexley’s lips tighten in annoyance before he cuts over her.
“A third executive position is being established—chief operating officer.”
Joshua and I both do electric-shock jolts in our seats.
“It will be a position below Helene and myself. We want to formalize the position that oversees operations, leaving the CEOs free to focus on more strategic things.”
He casts a thin-lipped smile at Joshua, who nods intently back at him. Helene catches my eye and raises her eyebrows meaningfully. Someone nudges me.
“It will be advertised tomorrow—details on the recruitment portal and the Internet.” He says it like the Internet is a newfangled contraption.
“It’s open to both internal and external applicants.” Helene stacks her papers and rises.
Fat Little Dick stands to go, and selects another slice of cake. Helene follows him, shaking her head. The room once again explodes into noise and the cake box is dragged across the table. Joshua stands by the door, and when I stubbornly remain seated, he slinks off.
“Looks like you’ve got some work to do,” Danny says to me. I nod and gulp and wave good-bye to the room in general, too overwhelmed to make a graceful exit. I break into a run when I leave the room, taking the stairs two at a time. I see Mr. Bexley’s door close as I hotfoot it into Helene’s and skid to a halt, swinging the door shut behind me and banging it closed with my backside.
“What’s the reporting line?”
“You’d be Josh’s boss, if that’s what you’re asking.”
A sensation of pure elation floods me. Joshua’s BOSS. He’d have to do everything I say, including treating me with some respect. I am at risk of wetting my pants right about now.
“It’s got disaster written all over it, but I want you to have the job.”
“Disaster?” I sink into a chair. “Why?”
“You and Josh do not work well together. Chalk and cheese. Adding in a power dynamic like that . . .” She clucks doubtfully.
“But I can do the job.”
“Of course, darling. I want you to have the job.”
My excitement grows as we talk about the role. Another restructure is looming, but I’d have a direct hand in it this time. I could save jobs instead of cutting them. The responsibility is greater and the raise is substantial. I could go home more often. I could get a new car.
“You should know, Bexley wants Josh for the job. We had a big fight over it.”
“If Joshua becomes my boss I will have to resign.” It comes out of my mouth instantly. It’s like what someone in a movie would say.
“All the more reason for us to get you the job, darling. If I had my way we would have just announced your promotion.”
I nibble my thumb. “But how is it going to be a fair process? Joshua and Mr. Bexley are going to sabotage me.”
“I thought of that. An independent panel of recruitment consultants are doing the interviews. You’ll be competing on an even playing field. There’ll be applicants from outside B and G too. Probably a pretty strong field. I want you to be prepared.”
“I will be.” I hope.
“And part of the interview is a presentation. You’ll need to get started on it. They want to hear your thoughts on the future direction of B and G.”
I’m itching to get back to my desk. I need to update my CV. “Do you mind if I work on my application during my lunch breaks?”
“Darling, I don’t care if you work on it all day until it’s due. Lucy Hutton, chief operating officer, Bexley and Gamin. It sounds good, doesn’t it.”
A grin spreads across my face.
“It’s yours. I feel it.” Helene makes a motion of zipping her lip. “Now go. Get it.”
I sit at my desk and unlock my computer to open my woefully outdated CV. I’m lit up inside by this new opportunity. Everything about today has changed. Well, almost everything.
I notice a shape standing over me after I’ve been editing for several minutes. I breathe in. Spicy cedar. His belt buckle winks at me. I do not break my keystrokes.
“The job is mine, Shortcake,” Joshua’s voice says.
To stop myself from standing up and punching him in the gut I’m counting one, two, three, four . . .
“Funny, that’s what Helene just told me.” I watch his backside walk away in the glossed surface of my desk, and vow that Joshua Templeman is going to lose the most important game we’ve ever played.
Chapter 4
Off-white stripes today, and I’ve got a big red cross in my planner for Friday. I would bet a hundred dollars there’s an identical red cross in Joshua’s. Our job applications are due.
I’m half-insane from rereading my application. I’ve become so obsessed with my presentation I’ve started dreaming about it. I need a break. I lock my screen and watch with interest as Joshua does the same. We are aligned like chess players. We fold our hands. I still haven’t seen his pencil in motion.
“How You Doing, Little Lucy?” His bright tone and mild expression indicates we’re playing a game we almost never play. It’s a game called How You Doing? and it basically starts off like we don’t hate each other. We act like normal colleagues who don’t want to swirl their hands in each other’s blood. It’s disturbing.