“Are you okay?”he asked.
“Yes, sorry.I just remembered something I need to do.”A white lie, but his question and the tone in his voice made me remember where I’d seen him before.It was at a party I attended several months ago with the douchebag who ditched me the minute we got there.
I ended up hiding in a corner, trying to figure out how to escape the party and make my way home when a couple of women nearby started talking.It didn’t take long for their conversation to morph into the typical mean girl sniping.I intended to ignore it—really I did—until I heard douchebag’s name and where did he find such a drabulous, ordinary plus one.This led to an in-depth analysis of my wardrobe.They were sure I bought my outfit at some second-rate thrift shop.But, hey, thrifting could be great if I had any fashion sense.No, in their opinion, I was completely lacking.Then came the hair critique.The stylist who did my cut and color was incompetent at best, not even worth one star on Yelp.And last but never least… Who taught me how to use makeup, and I definitely didn’t take care of my skin because I looked like I was a hundred years old.Yeah, the douchebag was probably just looking to get laid.
Well, thank you very much.Not.
The only truth in their review?Douchenozzle very likely was looking to just get laid.What else was new?Another guy out for what he thought he was owed after dinner and a date.I was an object rather than a person.
After the plastics left in search of other victims, I pulled out my phone and tapped the rideshare app.I was paying more attention to my phone rather than where I was walking and hit what turned out to be a wall of pecs and abs that belonged to a drop-dead handsome man.
Asher.
His hands on my shoulders kept me from landing on my butt, his touch firm and gentle at the same time.His head was canted just off center, and his brow creased with concern as he asked if I was okay.His voice was a perfect match to his looks—a little rough, deep, and all kinds of warm, like brandy on a cold day.
I managed to convince him I was fine, and just my luck, before either of us could say anything more, a woman sidled up to him, whispered something in his ear, and drew him away.I never figured out if it took a second or minutes before my phone vibrated in my hand to let me know my ride had arrived.
I returned to the real world when the elevator doors opened to a tastefully decorated reception area.This was definitely not the usual stark, cold utilitarian office décor.Soft carpeting, windows for natural light, yet kept the heat out.Some open area in the center and separate offices along two of the outside walls.
“Good morning, Mr.Donahue,” the blonde woman behind the desk said.
“Good morning, Sarah.Miles is expecting us.”
“He is.”She flashed a wide smile.“Please go right in.”
Asher nodded and turned to me.“Right this way.”He gestured for me to proceed him.At the end of what was a short hallway, there was a door with the name Miles Holt, Director of Human Resources, on it.
Heat flashed over my skin as Asher brushed my arm to knock on the door.He didn’t wait for an invitation before he opened it.
“Morning, Miles.”Asher guided me into the office.“This is Emma Palmer.She’ll be working with me to integrate domestic and international operations.”
The man sitting behind the desk stood.Tailored slacks, open neck of his button-down shirt, both in neutral colors.So business casual seemed to be the style here.His brown hair was cut short; his green eyes twinkled, and his smile reached his eyes as he extended his hand.
“Ms.Palmer, we’re glad you’re here.”We shook hands.
Warm handshake and a feeling of genuine welcome.
“Mr.Holt.”
“Please, Miles.Let’s sit down.”He gestured to what appeared to be a cherry conference table big enough to seat at least ten people.That’s when I realized his office was huge.Two sofas and a center coffee table with an arrangement of what looked like fresh flowers, end tables at both sofas, brass lamps, all in all, understated elegance.If I had to guess, the whole room ran at least one-third the length of the entire floor.Miles grabbed an envelope and file folder off his desk, cherry in the style that matched the conference table.
The men waited until I sat before they took their seats.I was used to the other coders in my office treating me like one of the guys.I wasn’t sure how I felt about being given this special attention.
“Water, coffee?”Miles asked.
“I’m fine.”Was I?My skin felt tight, and my heart didn’t seem to want to work right.I took a deep breath.The last thing I needed was to have a panic attack, especially when there was no reason to have one.The last thing I wanted right then was for Asher to figure out I was the torn apart girl he’d almost rescued all those months ago.Thankfully, he didn’t seem to recognize me, and it was better that way.
“All right.I have an NDA for you to sign before you can start work.”Miles opened the file folder and pulled out a sheet of paper.
“NDA?”Of course.They wanted to protect any information I learned about them.So why was I surprised?
Asher shifted next to me, and my attention focused on him.
“Because of the scope of this project and in the interest of expediency and to avoid any roadblocks, you’ll have sysadmin permissions globally.You will have access to private employee information as well as privileged research and development information.We’re aware that there is very little likelihood it will be necessary for you to access such information, even so, we require the NDA.”Asher crossed his arms over his chest.
He was right to be cautious.Any leak of proprietary information could destroy a company.
“Actually,” Asher said.“We also have some special app requests, which, we’re given to understand, is another of your strengths.We’re hoping you’ll be willing to work on that as well.It was part of the agreement with Tri-O-Tech but strictly subject to your acceptance.”
