“Except you are.” Walker pressed his phone and played back an audio recording of someone humming. Rudolph cocked his ear and whined.
“You can't tell it's me.”
“Rudolph knows who it is!” Walker laughed. “Are you ready for doggie daycare?” he said, riling up the dog. Rudolph barked playfully. “You are?”
“He ate all my dinner yesterday, so don't act like he's so awesome,” I said. Walker snickered.
Rudolph, to his credit, did follow me out of the elevator when I whistled to him.
“He seems to have been learning a lot in doggie daycare,” Walker commented as we walked down the hall to the C-suite offices.
When we approached my office, Rudolph stopped in his tracks.
“I guess I spoke too soon,” Walker joked. “What’s the matter, Rudolph, buddy? Do you need to go out?”
“Or maybe he's scared,” I said. There, in my office, was Sloane. She was leaning against my desk.
“'Tis the season for winning theTechBizcontest,” she said when she saw me. She sauntered up and kissed Walker on the cheek then me, though I would have bet anything she didn't try to feel up Walker's Christmas package.
“I'm here to do the walk-through,” she said. “I heard you have a holiday party today. Since I'm in charge of the company culture rankings, I needed to be here. Though sometimes people do really naughty things at holiday parties.”
“We keep a level of professionalism at all our company-sponsored events,” I said firmly.
“That’s no fun,” she said with a pout and flicked her hair. It smelled like expensive imported perfume. Perhaps it was supposed to be alluring. But I was now firmly in the camp of wanting my woman to smell like sugar, spice, and spruce trees.
“Why don't you give me a tour through your office,” she said, “then we'll go join the party.”
I spent the next several hours with Sloane. First I gave her the grand tour of the office. Fortunately, Walker and Beck were there through parts of it. Then she interviewed several of my employees, asking how they liked the company. As the CEO, I was not in the room for that, so I had a reprieve. Still, it grated on me that Sloane was here. I wanted to spend every waking moment with Holly.
“I had lunch ordered for you all,” my secretary said helpfully. “From the nice French restaurant on 42ndStreet.”
The caterers set up the lunch while Sloane conducted her last interview.
“Are you hungry?” I asked politely when she was finished.
“How thoughtful,” she said, stroking my cheek. “I was just texting your mom about what a wonderful son she raised.”
We literally went on one date. Why are people so delusional?
“Interesting,” was all I said.
I was going to try to keep the meeting strictly professional. But then Walker and Beck texted, bailing out. They had emergency meetings scheduled with their brother Greg about an investment side deal they were involved in.
Owen:I'll never forget this. I was going to name my first child after you but no more.
Walker:You'll be fine. Just sit on the opposite side of the table.
Sitting on the opposite side didn't help much.
“This is a very romantic date,” Sloane purred as she dished some of the pear and endive salad onto her plate. She ate it slowly, staring at me the whole time. I jumped when her bare foot stretched out to rub my crotch.
“How's your food?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“Don't tell me you're still hung up on that chunky little baker,” she said with a laugh. “Honestly, Owen, you know your parents won't approve. Not only that, but you can't take her to a nice party. Look what she wears! She might show up to theTechBizblack-tie party in a cheap dollar-store gingerbread maid outfit.”
“It's not any of your concern.”
