Bedding the Geek Tycoon (5 page)

But it was hard sleeping in the bed she had shared with Ryan without thinking of him, so she showed up at work before anyone else on Thursday morning, hoping a return to routine might cure the sour feeling in her stomach.

Nothing had changed at her workstation. The pens were still lined up behind her keyboard.

It was so normal that she sank deeper into despair.

Jenn went through the motions of checking her email. There were hundreds after her vacation, although most of them seemed to be follow-ups to emails she hadn’t responded to—nobody seemed to believe that she, Jenn MacLennan, would have actually gone on vacation.

Of course, a vacation wouldn’t have shattered her heart so thoroughly.

There was a new assignment from Oscar. She skimmed the specs and shook her head. The deadline was in two weeks, but Jenn could do it in two days.

By the time office staff started filtering in with the morning sunlight, she was taking her first coffee break. The espresso machine in the break room tasted like it hadn’t been cleaned in months.

A few people tried to talk to her. Jenn smiled and nodded and heard nothing. All she could feel was a gaping hole inside her chest, as though her heart had been dug out with a gardening spade.

She worked quietly, but she kept catching herself staring out the windows along the far wall. Golden sunlight glinted off the mirrored side of the office building across the street, reflecting the drifting clouds. The sun inched higher and higher in the sky, and after a while, she gave up trying to work entirely. Jenn gazed at the sky’s reflection with her chin on her hand, drumming a pen against the desk with her other.

Jenn checked the clock on her computer to discover it was already noon. She locked her workstation, stretched her arms over her head, and went to see if her supervisor wanted to get lunch.

But Peter’s chair was empty. All of his personal belongings—the photos of his family, the dancing hula girl, the demotivational posters tacked to his cubicle walls—had been stripped away, leaving nothing but a blank monitor and a company mouse pad.

“He quit while you were gone,” said a voice behind her.

Jenn glanced over her shoulder to see her boss, Oscar, leaning against the half-wall of Peter’s former cubicle. He was wearing a red tie and an insufferably smug grin. Of the few things she had missed on vacation, her boss was not one of them.

“Why?” she asked.

“His resignation letter had a few colorful things to say about the work environment,” Oscar said. “He didn’t even give two weeks’ notice. Frankly, we won’t be missing him—although his exit does leave a vacuum in management. On that note, I think I see a lot of leadership potential in you, Jennifer.”

“Do you, now?” Jenn didn’t even try to sound enthusiastic.

“Have you ever considered becoming a manager?”

No. Not even once. She didn’t care about money, and Jenn liked getting things done. Having to attend meetings and wear pantyhose was not what she considered productive.

She chose to keep her opinion to herself. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

That ended the conversation… for now. But Oscar didn’t forget.

The hours sped by, and the days and weeks followed not far behind. Jenn’s urge to live in the office disappeared while she was on leave, and she never signed onto the open source forums.

While she was home, Bowser only left her lap when she got up to make herself a pot of Top Ramen—nothing else sounded palatable—or go to kickboxing class, which had been her New Year’s resolution for five years in a row. Frankly, kickboxing was just as interesting as working and eating cheap, salty noodles, but she had too much energy to hold still.

Jenn was restless. Unhappy. And no matter how hard she tried to think of something, anything, other than Ryan, he was always at the back of her mind.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed. It could have been weeks or months or even a year before Oscar visited her desk again. Her productivity had shot through the roof since she returned, and he seemed to find an excuse to compliment her on it at least twice a day.

“We’re looking at filling Peter’s position soon.”

“Yeah?” She didn’t even look up at him, chewing her lip over a contrary block of code with inadequate documentation that she had inherited from another programmer.

“Let’s get dinner tonight and discuss it.”

There was no mistaking Oscar’s intent. He didn’t want to discuss a potential promotion. He just wanted to get into Jenn’s pants. But what else was new?

“Okay,” she said before she could think to stop herself. “How’s eight?”

~~~

She stared at herself for a long time in the mirror before her date that night. Jenn looked good. Taking kickboxing classes had brought out muscle tone she didn’t realize she could possess. She pulled her slacks over her muscular thighs and ruffled her hands through her hair, and Jenn hated how good she looked.

No, that wasn’t true. She liked looking good… but she hated the audience it was for.

“Jenn MacLennan, what are you doing?” she murmured to her reflection.

Oscar insisted on picking her up in his Rolls-Royce, and Jenn imagined she was supposed to be impressed by it. He talked about himself the entire drive to the restaurant, which turned out to be the kind of place that sold food so expensive there were no prices on the menu.

Jenn stared at a spot somewhere over Oscar’s left shoulder most of the dinner, fork idle in her fingers. His mouth was moving, and sound was coming out, but she didn’t really care to tune into what he said.

He finally managed to catch her attention by falling silent, and she realized she was supposed to respond to him.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Irritation flashed across Oscar’s face. “I asked if you had given thought to taking over Peter’s position. I could introduce you to the team as their newest acolyte at next month’s retreat. You have a lot of potential to quickly reach upper management and beyond, if you make friends with the… right people.”

His smile made it clear who he thought was the right person to befriend.

Instead of vomiting what little she had eaten on his lap, Jenn asked, “What retreat?”

“The annual team-building retreat in Hawaii.”

Right.
That
retreat. Despite being a senior manager, Peter had never been invited to go along. He preferred a cubicle with his team than a corner office, so he was never “cool” enough to go on extravagant management trips. Jenn and Peter had privately laughed at the wasteful budget expenditures more than once.

Not that Hawaii sounded bad. Jenn briefly entertained the thought—warm surf, golden sand, getting to show off her new body in a bikini.

But she couldn’t imagine enjoying that setting without Ryan.

“Look, Oscar, I’m flattered that you’re interested in giving me a promotion, but shouldn’t there be an official interview? There are other programmers with more supervisory experience that might be better for the position.”

“But none as pretty as you are.” And then he winked.

Jenn set down her fork. Her already meager appetite had vanished.

What was she doing out with Oscar?
Really?

She didn’t want the position, and she definitely wasn’t interested in her boss romantically—not that he seemed to have a romantic molecule in him. “If I see an internal opening listed, I might apply for it,” she finally said.

Oscar didn’t seem to notice her unease. He picked up the monologue about himself where he had left off, leaving her free to concentrate on pushing her squab around the square plate.

Jenn skipped dessert and managed not to gag when he made a big show of having dinner put on his account. It took all her will power not to run back to his car. She wanted Bowser, a good book, and a pint of brain bleach to forget she ever had the crappy judgment to go out with Oscar.

He opened the door for her, and she slipped into the passenger seat. Jenn gave an exaggerated yawn.

“Boy am I tired,” she said pointedly.

“Tired? But the night is so young,” he said in a way that was probably supposed to come across as suave.

Jenn thought he had gotten the hint until he took a right at the exit instead of a left. Her heart started to beat a little faster. “Where are you going?”

“I want to show you something.” He flashed glistening, even white teeth at her. “Can’t I show you a good time before you turn in?”

Her reflection in the side mirror had tight, pursed lips, and a worry line between her eyebrows. A black truck followed close behind them, casting a reflected glow on the lower half of her face. What could Oscar possibly have in mind next? A tour of his financial advisor’s office to discuss how well his stocks were doing? A visit to the company jet?

She sat quietly as Oscar took her on a meandering route through the city toward the wealthy neighborhood in the hills. The car, to its credit, purred under her and made the journey smooth, despite her boss’s reckless habit of taking fast turns without his blinkers and distaste for going the speed limit.

Ahh, yes. The “impress my date with mortal peril” tactic. Brilliant.

“I do really need to get home,” she said.

“What, do you have a curfew?” Oscar turned into a gated community, pausing only to key a code into the security panel.

“I have to be at work early to get a head start on that project you assigned me.”

“I’m the director. An ‘okay’ from me is better than a note from your doctor.” Oscar winked. “You don’t have to show up at all tomorrow.”

Jenn frowned at the buildings they passed.

“Where are we going?”

“My house.”

She made herself speak in a measured tone. “Oscar. Take me home.”

“Soon.” He pulled up in front of a house with a small, well-tended yard and a circular driveway.

“No. You need to take me home
now
, or I’m going to get out and call a cab.”

“Don’t be so boring,” he said, stopping the car. His hand slipped up her thigh.

White noise rushed through Jenn’s ears. The dashboard leapt into sharp focus as he shoved her back against the door, pressing his bodyweight against hers. The kiss was fast and sloppy and made her stomach churn.

“Stop it!”

But he didn’t listen, and Jenn was suddenly very sick of it.

She was sick of going through the motions at a meaningless job. She was sick of putting up with sexual harassment. She was sick of pining for Ryan Stone. She was sick of waiting for life to happen to her, instead of going out and finding it herself.

Jenn MacLennan was a superhero, and she wasn’t going to put up with this shit anymore.

She grabbed his hand. Twisted. Something cracked.

Oscar made a sound of shock and tried to get away from her, but she buried her nails in his skin and caught his eye. “Nobody touches me without my consent.”

“What the
fuck
?”

“Don’t touch me,” she repeated, releasing his wrist.

“I can have your job!” he growled, his fingertips digging into her arm. “I can put you on the fucking
streets
, you little—”

“I don’t give a shit,” Jenn spat, twisting in his grip to free herself. “Consider this my letter of resignation!”

Her knuckles connected with his nose, which gave a satisfying crack. Oscar howled. “My nose!” The words bubbled through the blood dribbling down his upper lip and chin.

His blood-slicked hands groped blindly for Jenn, but before she could hit him again, the driver’s side door opened. Oscar’s legs jerked out behind him. He disappeared into the night.

“What the…?”

Jenn’s door opened as well. She had been leaning against it to get as far from him as possible, and she nearly fell out.

She shrieked as strong hands clamped down on her arm and dragged her from the car. Jenn kicked and struggled, and felt her elbow satisfyingly sink into her captor’s midsection. Hauling back to deliver a strong right hook, her fist was caught and held tight.

“Let me go!” she ordered.

Jenn recognized the voice that responded.

“If you want.”

She froze, and her eyes traveled up from the hand on hers to the face of the owner. Icy shock slapped her in the face. Ryan’s full lips were spread into a smile, and his ordinarily distant blue eyes were warm. Happy. Like no time had been lost at all.

It took a long time for her brain to process who, exactly, she was seeing. And when she did, she was pissed.

But not as pissed as Oscar.

He struggled to his feet. “You’ll pay! You’re going to hear from my lawyer, and you—you’re going to—”

“The lawyers at Turner will be happy to hear from you,” Ryan said. “And about your attempted abduction. Considering what’s on your juvenile record—the other women you’ve ‘invited’ to visit your house—I bet they would love to hear what you did tonight.”

The blood vanished from Oscar’s face.

He swung at Ryan, who easily side-stepped it, kicked him in the back, and sent him plunging to the pavement. He groaned and didn’t get up.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, massaging her shoulders.

Jenn drew her arm back and punched him across the face. His head snapped to the side.

“What the hell, Jenn? It’s me!” Ryan said, stumbling back.

“I know it’s you, you bastard!” She wound up for another hit, but he dodged it. The kickboxing classes were even more useful than she expected. “You left me without a word, and then you show up grinning like I’m supposed to be happy to see you? You bastard!”

He held up both hands. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“That’s right. You shouldn’t,” she said, breathing hard. “Why were you following me?”

“I wanted to apologize—and tell you I deleted the files. I got so used to stepping on people to reach the top that I never thought about who I was walking on. But I want to make it better.” He shot a glare at Oscar. “And now I’m glad I did.”

She didn’t hear him past the first sentence. “You deleted it? I worked hard on that!”

“I thought you’d be glad,” Ryan said. “I put your job at risk.”

It was hard to be upset about the way he endangered her job now that she had submitted her resignation in the form of breaking her boss’s hand.