"You should double it. And everyone attends. Even you. Even me."
Rubbing his jaw, he slid his hand over his mouth. "There are online programs for that."
"We should all do it together, as a company, in person. And the employees should see us sitting there--"
"Policing them?" He scowled. "I don't want this to devolve into finger-pointing, do you understand? We have employees who are married to each other or are living together or even just dating. There's nothing wrong with any of that."
I shrugged. "I agree."
"But then, any of them could have been the stars of our infamous video, I guess."
The collar on my monkey suit suddenly felt tight. "Yeah. It, um--it could have been anyone."
His black eyes flicked up to me. "Have you figured it out yet?"
I held up my hands. "Whoa, who the hell am I? CSI Irvine? I've got my people working on it, like I said. But the shit is viral and there was no metadata to find on the video. The person who recorded it had location information turned off." Thank God for that. "Though that could have only told us so much, and without a warrant, we can't get the IP address of the person who uploaded the original copy, even if we could trace the copies back to the original one...which my guy has told me is virtually impossible. It's like looking for a needle in a thousand stacks of needles."
His mouth thinned. "With the identifying information stripped from the video, I'd agree with you. Shit." He ran a hand through his hair and stared out the window again.
"Look... I've been putting out fires with the IPO attorneys, the underwriters, and the banker. Let's not expend our time, energy and resources on a witch-hunt. That horse has already left the barn."
"If we find out who it was, we could cut the culprit loose and show that we are taking care of the situation."
"Corporate training and some of these other things would do the same thing, to be honest. In the eyes of the Wall Street crowd, anyway."
"So the banker actually suggested sexual harassment training..."
"You think I'd make that shit up? And as for those other things..." Oh, he was not going to like these. I braced myself.
His eyes narrowed. "Out with it. What?"
"We release a statement about this whole gamer sexual harassment thing that's going on."
"But we have nothing to do with that," he huffed. "None of those people have any association with Draco Multimedia Entertainment or Dragon Epoch. It's a bunch of sexually frustrated, antisocial fifteen-year-old kids bullying women over the Internet."
"Other associations and companies have made their stand. We should too. Consider it a restating of our own Terms of Service against harassment and cyber bullying."
He waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. What else are we doing?"
"Oh, some monetary donations, community service hours--"
"Community service hours? Doing what? Picking up trash on the side of the freeway?"
"I'll line up something--get us some good press. We're going to be earning feathers in our cap, that's all. We just need to keep our noses clean. I've got that TED talk next month. And we've got all those awards the game is up for--especially Game of the Year. Entrepreneur Weekly is featuring us on their cover. This is good shit. We can turn this around. We're a big company and everyone has their brush with scandal. This little thing isn't going to tank us. "
"Yet," he replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"Christ, Adam. You're always such a glass-is-half-empty kinda guy."
"I'm a realist, and it's my job to look down the road ahead to see what's in store for this company and prepare for it. And given our previous dance with scandal..."
Adam was still somewhat jaded from the legal run-in last year with the family of the murder-suicide victims. Our company had been embroiled in a struggle with our liability insurance company, which had refused to allow Adam to fight the case in court, insisting we settle instead. It had been a setback for us, a minor misstep in the early stages of my progression toward our IPO.
"So no bullshit here, but does he really think this is going to work?"
I nodded. "Yeah, he really does. He says the New York Stock Exchange is hungry for tech companies to open with them instead of NASDAQ, which is where the biggies like Facebook have been going for their IPOs. They want us, Adam. But we need to toe the line and keep ourselves distant from this online cyber war-of-the-sexes going on in the other gamer communities." I looked at him and then glanced out the window, unable to meet his gaze as I delivered the rest. "Besides, there's been a lot of doubt about whether or not that video actually even featured Draco employees or if that badge was a plant."
Adam actually laughed at that. "Wow, I don't know whether to feel threatened or flattered that someone would go to all that trouble to smear our reputation like that."
I shrugged. "You never know..." It felt kind of slimy to put this idea into his head, but better to take the pressure off me and let him fixate on something else.
He glanced at me and then away, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I think it's best to apply Occam's razor. The simplest explanation is the most likely one. Which means that at least one of those two was an employee getting their freak on at Comic-Con," Adam said, raising a brow.
I paused, waited for a long moment and worked up the courage to ask him the big question. "So what's the verdict, oh illustrious leader? Are we going public or are we yanking our bid?"
Adam turned and looked out the window again, taking a breath and appearing deep in thought. He actually looked like he was still considering yanking the whole thing. I figured this might be a good time to remind him why we'd set out to do this in the first place.
"That prototype equipment is really amazing. Imagine the things you'll be able to do when you have the capital to incorporate that new interface into the game."
"Oh, I've already imagined it," he said. "But I'm not going to injure our bottom line because of my pipe dream."
"It's not a pipe dream, Adam. You've got the vision and ability to see this through. There isn't another MMO game out there that is using an interface like this--not even the mighty World of Warcraft. Just think what our game could do if you have the assets to acquire the company that makes that equipment. And you get to apply all that knowledge in your boy genius brain to develop a three-dimensional experience for players."
He shot me a look out of the corner of his eyes. "Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?"
"C'mon, man. The players are going to eat that shit up. I saw how much fun Mia was having during the demo. If for no one else, you have to at least do it for the woman you love."
Adam barked out a laugh. "Man, you are so full of shit your eyes are brown! 'Do it for the woman you love.' I can't wait to tell her that tonight. She'll wet herself laughing when she hears that came out of your mouth."
I shrugged. "Hey, I've gotta try, right?"
"You never cease to amaze me. All right. I have full confidence in you, my 'rookie CFO.' Go get 'em, tiger."
I felt a surge of victory. "You aren't shitting me, right? You aren't leading me on so you can squash my hopes like a bug?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not. We're still in for the bid. But I'm trusting you"--he brought his hand up and pointed at me--"to keep me informed of everything that is going on. And if you have a moment of doubt about anything, I want you to come to me with it, okay? I know how much you want this, but I also trust that this isn't going to come at the expense of our company."
I shook my head. "Never. I may not be King of the Geeks like you, my friend, but I love this company every bit as much as you do."
Adam's eyes grew shrewd. "You love the goose that lays the golden eggs."
I shrugged. "That too. There's no denying this company gives me a nice fat bank account, which I duly enjoy."
He laughed. "Yes, you do. What 'benefits' are you enjoying this week? Is it that blond D-list actress or the brunette Vogue model?"
I smirked. "Now don't
be jealous just because you've doomed yourself to be a one-woman man. One woman...for the rest of your life...no variety...never changing..." I feigned a yawn.
"It's you I feel sorry for. But enjoy it while it lasts, man. I suspect when it's your turn, you're going to fall hard."
I shook my head. "Nah. You have to have a heart to fall in love, and I had that removed a long, long time ago."
It was Adam's turn to smirk. "Yeah...right. We'll see about that."
"What is it with dudes when they settle down? They're all about wanting to drag their friends down with them. Misery loves company, I guess. Besides--you're marrying your cousin. I just changed my ringtone for you to banjo music."
"Fuck you," he said, moving to his desk when his phone chimed. He picked it up to read the text message.
"Is that the little woman now? Or should I say, the little cousin?"
Adam didn't look up from the phone as he read but held up his free hand, middle finger pointed straight in the air. He wasn't too pleased about the fact that he and Mia were now related by marriage, since his uncle had married her mother a few months before.
"I'll just mention to her that you called her 'the little woman' and she can take care of you the next time she sees you. It was nice knowing you." Adam typed out a quick reply to the text message.
"I'd actually be scared, but you need me too much for this IPO."
He grinned. "That I do." Then he frowned as if something had occurred to him and flicked me a speculative glance. "So, ah, how's your intern working out for you? You teaching her lots of interesting stuff?"
I shifted my stance a little, stuffed my hands in my pockets and shrugged with one shoulder. Trying to act casual without looking like I was acting casual.
"She's okay." I hoped the facade worked, because I definitely did not feel as casual as I hope I looked. I was already starting to sweat under my collar at the memory of what had happened between us on Saturday night.
The feel of her curvy, feminine body underneath me on the couch. The taste of her. Those gorgeous tits that could bring a man to his knees. I clenched my jaw.
Adam frowned. "You okay? Did she piss you off or something?"
I resisted looking at him but surmised this was far from an off-the-cuff question. Likely, Adam had been suspicious about the whole thing since interrupting us the other night. And if he hadn't interrupted us? I knew I wouldn't have stopped, and I had reason to believe she wouldn't have either.
I swallowed. She still had no idea that we'd already had sex once. Now the guilt over this situation had a new layer added to it--as if it needed any more. The guilt about lying to Adam, jeopardizing the company and nearly ruining all our hopes and dreams wasn't enough. Add to that the guilt I felt over the fact that I had been all over her on Saturday night, and that if we had gone to bed, she'd have had no idea that we'd been together before.
I took a deep breath, knowing I had to play this cool. Adam wasn't asking me to make small talk. He didn't work like that. There was a purpose behind everything that he did and said.
And if I wasn't careful--because the guy was as observant as a hawk, too--I could get snagged by my own lies. "She's fine. I torment her, she hates me. It's a perfectly healthy boss-employee relationship."
Ah, yes, if I hadn't already been heading there, I was definitely going to Hell for that one. Now if I could ignore the fact that apparently I'd been the best sex of her life--and, well, she'd ranked up there in the top three for me.
Maybe top two, I'd admit--if begrudgingly.
I slid out of that meeting a few minutes later, mentally wiping my brow that Adam had chosen not to give me the third degree about the intern. I glanced across the atrium and saw April at her desk.
I'd already vowed to avoid her as much as possible from here on out. As much as I could, anyway. But it was going to be difficult.
Mostly because I really didn't want to.
I liked looking at her. She was beautiful, of course, but it wasn't only about looking at a pretty face, perfect, shiny hair and a fine ass. There was this inexplicable deepness in her lovely blue eyes that made it obvious there was a lot going on behind them. But she showed the world a serene, collected face even in the midst of the scorching humiliation and criticism I'd heaped upon her of late. Not to mention, I'd been almost obsessed with the idea of getting her to crack.
Over the next few days, I started noticing that April was avoiding me as much as I was avoiding her. She started getting to work earlier than me and leaving my coffee sitting on the desk in a special insulated cup before I'd get there. When I'd walk into the atrium and stop to talk to Susan, April would get up and leave her desk. In the break room, when I entered, she either left or sat on the other side of the room.
Soon it had become a game. I'd find an excuse to come out of the office a few times a day. Every time, she'd leave. I didn't have time for that shit--except that my brain, of course, thought it would be a great thing to fixate on.
I also wasn't above noticing how Adam's creepy little nerd assistant, Charles, had developed a thing for her, too. He was over at her desk a lot, and one day I even spotted him walking her to lunch. I began wondering if they were eating lunch together every day. Okay, so I'd prevented her from going out and picking up someone at a club one night, but that didn't mean shit, did it?
Only a few days later, I lost my resolve to avoid her because avoiding her meant I couldn't keep an eye on her. And besides, I rationalized, it was time to talk to her about her project.
After lunch, I entered the atrium where she sat talking on the phone at her desk and took the long way around so she wouldn't see me coming. I stood beside her, waiting for her to wrap up, but she didn't notice me immediately.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know the Beast was going to give me all this work today. It looks like I won't be able to make it." She paused, shifting in her chair and doodling on the pad of paper in front of her where she had scribbled down Le Chat Noir--the name of a martini lounge not far from here.
I wondered what she was talking about. I hadn't given her anything extra to work on for days...then it occurred to me that she was using work as an excuse not to go.
"Okay...well, I'll try then. Just give me the address. Yeah, yeah. I can find it using my GPS. You said it's nearby?"
She jotted down the address. At that moment, she became aware of my presence and nearly jumped when she looked up at me. I gave her my most convincing glare and frown.
"I gotta go," she huffed into the receiver and slammed down the phone.
"Who was that? Your little admirer?"
She gave me a wary look. "I don't have any admirers." I raised my brow in disbelief. Clearly, she was lying to me. Disappointing, but...did I expect anything else?
Her eyes flicked away nervously. "It was just my friends in marketing. They wanted to go out tonight."
"More partying? Maybe you need more work to do."
Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe I do."
"You still haven't come up with ideas for your project."
She turned her chair to face me, folding her arms across her chest. "Actually, I have. I emailed them to you this morning."
I ran my thumb along my jaw line. "Hmm. Okay, I'll have a look. Who's 'the Beast,' by the way?"
Her skin reddened like a fresh sunburn. She nervously tucked a long, silky strand of dark hair behind her delicate ear. I swallowed, my eyes tracing over the elegant line of her neck.
Christ. I shook my head. "Never mind. I think I can guess. Carry on, Weiss. You don't want to keep your little friends waiting. I'm sure you're all dying to get drunk and laid tonight."
She bit her plump, sexy lip and again I swallowed, ripping my eyes away. Pushing back from her desk, I went back to my office, disturbed at how I felt about her going out with the giggling interns to meet men. It was her prerogative, of course. It wasn't like I had any right to dictate what she did and didn't do. But damned if it didn't irritate the piss out of me anyway.
I
was her boss, after all, so if she were to get drunk and go home with some strange dude, that would affect her ability to work on my projects and get things done. And damn it, she was responsible for this clusterfuck. So I was looking after my own professional interests when I called up Adam's cousin, William, who worked in the art department, asking him to go along with me that night to Le Chat Noir.
William was an unlikely wingman. I'd known him from the beginning days of the company when Adam had brought him in to work on early concept artwork for Dragon Epoch. We'd developed a full portfolio to take around to venture capitalists who would become our first investors to help us get the company off the ground. After we'd gotten the ball rolling, William had taken a job in the art department.
He was immensely talented but shy, quirky and more than a little awkward.
Right before Comic-Con, he'd come into my office unannounced. Plopping himself down on a chair with hands in his pockets and eyes on the floor, he'd asked me what my secret was for getting all the women.
If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that Adam was punking me. I'd tried not to laugh. William was a great guy, but I'd been at a loss to explain to him 'when you've got it, you've got it' or the concept of mojo. William was autistic, and thus did not do well with abstract concepts like that.
So I'd promised him a demonstration when I had more time. And tonight, apparently, would be that night. He hadn't seemed too thrilled about going to a bar, but it was more of a lounge than a bar, I'd reasoned. It took some time to talk him into it, saying that this was how I met women--which was not exactly the truth. The women I dated I'd met at much classier places than this one.
Le Chat Noir was not a dive by any stretch. It actually tried its hardest to be a level above the typical meat market type of places these tended to be--especially in a college town like Irvine. The decor was muted purples and black. Jazzy music played over a sound system, though it appeared as if they had live music regularly.
William and I sat at a small table nursing drinks. William had ordered a beer and I had a rum and coke, minus the rum. I flicked a glance at my introverted companion; I hadn't accounted for his reserve to make this situation awkward. Oh well, we hadn't come for him, anyway.
After asking a few questions, I finally found out that there was a particular woman he'd had an eye on--one of Mia's girlfriends. I'd met her once--the blonde--pretty girl. He'd known her for over a year and still hadn't asked her out. Christ. This poor guy was probably almost crippled from blue balls syndrome.