Page 18 of Glitched Play

I ignore him.

Dara hides a smile. "Should I send her in?"

"Yes."

Greyson stands. "Good luck."

“Evaluating talent isn’t luck. It’s skill.”

His grin grows. “Witt… it’s just what…,” he mumbles, shaking his head all the way to the door and closes it behind him.

I’ve always known I think differently than most, but why hasn’t it gotten any easier? I try to think like others but it’s so fucking frustrating.

Silence settles over the office. A few seconds later, the door pushes open and Maci Hart walks in.

Interesting.

She isn't what I expected.

Most applicants for this position arrive looking like they stepped out of a gaming convention.

Hoodies.

Graphic tees.

Collectible pins.

Energy drinks.

A visible lack of sleep.

Not Maci Hart, she looks professional in her fitted blazer and dark jeans.

Polished.

Confident.

Then I notice the silver-pink hue of her hair. It’s barely noticeable, the kind of color most people would dismiss as a trick from the lighting, but it’s there. So is the tiny game-controller stud in one ear and a pixel heart tattoo disappearing beneath her sleeve when she reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

It’s unexpected like someone hid a gamer inside a corporate presentation and dared anyone to notice. The details are small, careful, but they shift the picture of her.

Polished enough to sit with investors. But can she do everything as promised in her phone interviews and her assessment?

I stand as she crosses the office and extends her hand.

Firm grip and without hesitation or a nervous smile. She looks me in the eye and I’m the one who looks away. Looking into someone’s eyes is uncomfortable for me, painful even.

She makes no attempt to impress me.

Good. I don’t have the time or patience for schmoozing.

"Witt O'Ryan.”

"I know."

One corner of my mouth lifts. "I would hope so."

A flash of amusement touches her lips. She’s not intimidated and I’m not used to that. Other than my family, everyone seems nervous around me with one other exception, Dara.