I make a small, noncommittal noise. “Just the important stuff.”
“If you want to hang out with us hot admins, I guess you can,” Bev says. “I already asked several people, and there’s a good group going.”
“Awesome.” He smirks. “I’m going to get back to work. Gotta leave in time to hit the bar.”
“You aren’t asking me to join you?” she asks, her eyebrow raised high.
“Normally, I would, but it’s a guy thing. There’s an exercise studio nearby, and a bunch of hot girls show up after their workout to quench their thirst, if you know what I’m saying.” He gives a wink that I’m sure he thinks is sexily endearing. “But if you want to go later, maybe over the weekend. What do you think, Erin? Make it a group date?”
I shrug, not quite yes or no. But I have no intention of spending my free time with Bev or Gerry. Or anybody, really.
Making friends can be…complicated. And it can leave you too vulnerable. They start to know too much about you, and then you start to care what they think of you.
And I don’t want to worry about anybody’s opinion of me.
Bev and Gerry finally leave, and with a small sigh of relief, I turn my attention to the emails I need to clear out on David’s behalf.
I’m about halfway through when David comes out of his office. Sunlight streaming behind him from the windows creates a sort of Renaissance, beloved-by-the-gods effect. Does he glow, too? Is that smile on his face for me?
I can’t seem to look away. Then I realize I’m ogling him and tear my gaze away before he notices. Staring like an idiot is only going to undo the good work that my cake did. I have to stick to being a professional.
Besides, it isn’t like I never knew he was handsome before. So I don’t know why I’m acting like a silly junior high school kid, rather than a responsible adult with a functioning brain and good judgment. He’s smiling because he’s in good mood after the cake and he has a winning personality.
Composing myself, I stand and follow him with a pen and a legal pad until we reach the conference room that I reserved for the call. We sit around the table, and I dial for the San Mateo office. Joe picks up immediately. He’s one of the most punctual people I know. And his team is the same way because that’s what he expects.
I listen to the dev team and David talk, their faces on the huge screen, scribbling down key points. They’re trying to enhance the video portion of the app. Sweet Darlings, Inc.’s app used to focus on photos only, but these days, people want a more immersive and varied multimedia experience. And that means video.
Joe’s developers are trying to implement changes that’ll make video streaming consume less data and still provide good-quality images and sound for people on limited data plans. David is trying to figure out a snappy way to showcase the new functionality as a selling point and incorporate it into our marketing. Plus, he’s thinking of ways to use it to lure in more advertisers and partners. Although the app has lots of paid users, there are a ton of people who are using the free, ad-supported version as well. David already has an academic scholarship foundation from Korea lined up to pay to use the app for their PR efforts, but he’s always looking for more opportunities.
As the meeting winds down, Joe says, “That was a good call. And David, quit working Erin so hard. She looks tired.”
My face heats. Et tu, Joe? Do I look that bad just because I didn’t sleep well last night and I don’t have the best makeup technique to cover it up?
David spreads his hands. “Hey, I try not to. But she’s very driven and self-motivated.” Is there a hint of pride in his voice? “She even goes over our self-paced training on weekends. What can I do?”
Joe’s eyebrows jump up. “Give her a raise, obviously. You seem to be attracting ambitious women. First Jan and now Erin.”
“Haha. Erin’s not going to join your team.”
There is an edge to his words that I can’t fathom. I don’t think Joe said anything offensive…did he? Besides, we all know I can’t be on Joe’s team. I don’t know a thing about computer programming.
David adds, “I’m not letting app dev poach my people again. Find your own talent.”
Wonder why he’s saying that. Jan is David’s former assistant, the one he had right before me. She transferred to an app dev team, but the one in Dulles, not in San Mateo under Joe. And contrary to what David said, she wasn’t poached. From what I’ve heard, he encouraged her to take the opening because it was a good career move for her, and she was already really good at programming.
The call ends, and I gather my notes, vowing to rush to the bathroom to apply more concealer as soon as I can grab my purse from my desk. Makeup tutorials claim that concealer can hide anything. Otherwise, why name it concealer, right?
David turns to me. “Are you feeling okay, Erin?” he asks. “If you’re tired or something, you can go home early.”
I shoot him a reassuring smile, but it feels tight and uncomfortable on my face. “It’s all right. I’m fine. Really.”
“You didn’t stay up too late watching the training videos and making that cake, did you?”
“No. Trust me,” I say, unable to tell him the real reason: that I had a kissing dream about him. He’d fire me for mental sexual harassment. Or at least have me written up with HR.
We leave the meeting room together. I hear excited whispers in the open area, where the cubicles are. Probably some celeb released a sex tape or flashed somebody at a party. Katie, who sits in the section, is perma-glued to TMZ and other Hollywood gossip sites.
David walks ahead of me. I try not to stare at his butt—or think about the way those slacks hug his narrow hips. I’m definitely not thinking about the way he looked in those boxers Saturday morning.