Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little Secrets #1) (23 page)

“But I think I’ve already done it.”

Caleb’s lips slowly stretch up into a smile, until he’s beaming. That smile is bright as the sun, even here in this dark room.
 

“So what does that mean?” he asks.
 

“Well, I was thinking that after I complete the work I’m doing for my current clients, I could go talk to Ben.” I roll over onto my side, and thread my fingers through Caleb’s. “Maybe his offer will still stand after he takes a look at my work.”
 

“And you’ll stay with me?” God, the look on his face takes my breath away. I want to put that look on his face every day for the rest of my life.
 

“As long as you’ll have me.”
 

Caleb rolls over on top of me, his body pressed against mine. The weight of him feels amazing, and familiar. He anchors himself on his left arm, as he leans down and kisses me. “I’ll have you,” he whispers against my lips.
 

“I love you,” I tell him.
 

“I love you,” he replies.
 

“Tomorrow, after one last bagel from my favorite shop, let’s go home.”
 

The offices of Williams Software are about what I expected for a cutting-edge software developer. Most leaders in this industry are big on keeping the creative juices flowing, and want coders who spend long days in front of a computer to have a place where they can go and blow off some steam. There are games everywhere, bright paintings and photos on the walls, and the typical cubicle farm was done away with in favor of open workspaces. People are dressed casually, but they aren’t sloppy, and the second I step through the front doors, I feel welcome.
 

Ben’s office is a little more subdued than the rest of the workspace, looking a lot like what you’d expect a CEO’s office to look like, with the exception of his wall decor. Instead of hanging up high-end art, Ben has opted to display prototype gaming systems covered with plexiglass. It’s a fun space, but you get the definite impression that this is a place where the boss works.
 

From what he’s told me about the company so far, it seems as if Ben likes to foster a pleasant work environment, and isn’t set on having his employees follow a rigid schedule from nine to five. People here are encouraged to collaborate and nurture each other’s ideas. If I’m going to leave the world of consulting, this is the type of company that I want to work at.

It’s funny, when I walked into this building for my interview today, I wouldn’t have been heartbroken if I didn’t get this job. After seeing the space, and meeting some of the employees, I definitely want this job. Wanting it as badly as I do is what is making the pace at which Ben is reviewing my work even more maddening. He’s scrolling through the screens, clicking, and making faces that I don’t know him well enough to decipher. I think they’re good, but I have no idea. He asks me questions occasionally, like why I omitted a feature, or what made me choose to code something a particular way. Apart from that, he’s mostly silent, engrossed in his work.
 

“I’m really impressed with you, Mia,” he finally says, and relief washes over me. “You developed all of this software on your own?”
 

“Yes,” I say, nodding. “That’s all work that I did on my own.”
 

“Wow. Some of this is incredibly advanced work. You do have some areas where you can improve.”

I’m still young, still fresh out of college, so I’m not surprised to hear him say this. I definitely have my weaknesses. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t sting a little to hear the words out loud, though. I appreciate that Ben is willing to be honest with me, and that he’s not pulling any punches because we know each other personally.
 

“As you know,” he says, leaning his elbows on his desk, “Williams is a leader in the industry, and we’ve got several large projects in development. I’ve got teams in place for all but one, and that’s what I’d like your help with.”
 

“Okay,” I reply, anxious to hear about this project. I know before he starts talking that I’m going to want to work on it. I want to learn anything I can from the developers that he’s hired to work here.
 

He describes the challenges that they’re running into with this particular client, and his needs fit well with some of my skill areas. I’d also be working with some engineers who can help fill in the gaps in my knowledge base.
 

“I’m a firm believer in working your way up, Mia,” he explains. “But this work you’ve been doing on your own is well above entry level. I don’t think you’re ready to lead your own team yet, but I don’t want you to waste away on the bottom rung of the ladder. I’d like you to work on the development team; I think that’s where you’d learn the most, and be the biggest asset to the company and the project.”
 

“Okay,” I reply, trying not to sound as excited as I feel. “And this is purely based on my work and my potential, not the fact that I’m dating your best friend?”
 

Ben grins at me. “Oh, it’s definitely based on the content of your work. The fact that you’re dating my best friend actually lowers my opinion of your decision-making skills,” he replies with a playful wink.
 

I can’t help but laugh.

“So,” he says, reaching into his desk and pulling out a sticky note. He uncaps a pen and starts writing. “I’m going to have HR put together a formal offer package for you. Read it over, and decide if the offer is fair and acceptable. I have a preliminary offer as far as salary goes.” He holds out the sticky note, so I can see what’s written on it.
 

Wow. Like…
wow
. It takes every bit of control I have to make sure my eyes don’t get comically large and pop out of my head looking at this number. There are six figures here. I mean, not a crazy large kind of six figures, but…six figures.
 

“Yes,” I reply, my voice cracking. “I think that’s fair.”
 

“Good.” He takes the note and sticks it on the folder that he inserted my resume into earlier. “I’m glad everything worked out.”
 

Ben gives me this look, this loaded
look
, and I realize that he’s trying to let me know that he knows about what went on between me and Jack Kemp, and possibly the whole Privya situation. I appreciate the gesture, because I wouldn’t want to worry about that coming to light every day, wondering whether I was on the verge of getting fired or not.

“I’m glad, too.”
 

“I’ll get that offer letter out to you as soon as I can, okay? Tomorrow, probably. Then we can discuss your start date.”
 

“Sounds good,” I tell him.
 

Ben stands up, and I follow suit. He reaches across his desk, and shakes my hand. He walks me through the office, and out into the elevator lobby.
 

“Do I need to bring anything to the cookout on Sunday?” he asks.

“Nope, just yourself. And maybe some backup steaks, because Caleb insists on grilling.”
 

Ben laughs. “That’s a recipe for disaster. You got it.”
 

“I’ll see you at seven?”
 

“Seven sounds great.”
 

“Why are you hovering?” Caleb asks. I can’t tell if he’s
really
irritated, or if he’s
pretending
to be irritated.
 

“There are a few reasons,” I reply.
 

“How about if you tell me what they are?”
 

“Okay, well, first of all, I like watching. I have a nice view from over here.” I’m not even kidding about this view, which is, quite frankly, amazing. Caleb is wearing the perfect pair of jeans today, they make his ass look perfect. I’m not about to say that in front of his friends, though, who are sitting a few feet behind us.
 

Caleb looks over at me, giving me a wink and a smile.
 

“Those jeans are great, is all I’m saying. Buy more of them,” I say. There are general sounds of mumbling coming from the peanut gallery over there, but I ignore them. “The second reason is because I continue to be fascinated by the fact that we’re having a cookout on the fiftieth floor. That’s backyard territory back where I’m from. Since this is a new experience, I want to be close to the action.” Yes, we are fifty floors up, but this terrace is pretty amazing. Caleb had a decorator set up a little living space, so there’s a couch, a love seat, and some tables in the far corner. There’s even a rug in the center of the arrangement, like it’s an actual living room. It still boggles my mind.
 

“What’s the third reason?”
 

“Given your unfortunate history with accidentally setting things on fire, I feel better keeping an eye on things. If there’s a fire up here, we’re in real trouble.”
 

Caleb rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to set anything on fire.”
 

“I bet you said that the other times you set things on fire, huh?” I make it a point to sound like I’m teasing him, but he probably did say that those other times. I know him well enough to be able to assume it happened.

“Technically, it’s already on fire. Being a grill and all,” Oliver says.
 

“Smartass,” Caleb and I say at the same time. We grin at each other like a couple of lovesick idiots.
 

“Let’s not tempt fate, Oliver,” I reprimand.
 

“Don’t you have something you should be doing in the kitchen?” Caleb asks.
 

I can hear the sharp intakes of breath from Ben and Oliver, because even they know that Caleb has messed up.
 

I furrow my brow. “Did you just tell me to get back in the kitchen?” I’m not upset or anything, but Caleb doesn’t need to know that. I can get more mileage out of this teasing if he thinks that I am.
 

“I…uh…” he stutters, his eyes a little panicked. It’s pretty cute, so I let him go on like that for a few more seconds. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just know that you’re making some things, so I wondered if you, um…needed to get back to that.”

“Relax,” I say, walking up behind him and resting my head on his shoulder. “I know you’d never tell the little woman to get back in the kitchen. Besides, I’m all done. We’re just waiting on you to finish the meat. I think I have something that might speed it up.”
 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
 

“I can’t wait to see this,” Ben says, taking a sip of his beer.
 

“If history dictates,” Oliver replies dryly, “you probably don’t want to see it.”
 

“Hey!” I try to act offended, but they did walk in on something earlier, when Caleb and I lost track of time. Nothing indecent, just…borderline. “I made most of your food, and you don’t want to mess with the person who makes the food. Unless that person is Caleb, because messing with Caleb is fun.”
 

“I heard that,” Caleb shouts from his spot in front of the grill.

“I meant you to!” I slide the patio door open, and grab the surprise for Caleb that I stashed on the table. I walk up behind him, and slide the apron around his waist. It’s pink, and frilly, and hilarious. I tie it around his waist, copping a quick feel while I’m at it.
 

“Kiss the Cook,” he recites, reading words that are embroidered across the front with a smile on his lips.
 

“Don’t mind if I do.” I push up onto my tiptoes and press a kiss against his lips. “Try not to burn this one, okay?”
 

With another kiss, Caleb says, “I won’t.”
 

I walk back over to the seating area, and sit down opposite Ben and Oliver. I take a sip of the martini Oliver mixed for me earlier, then sink back into the cushions to relax. It’s been a while since I’ve spent any time cooking, and prepping the sides for tonight’s meal made my feet ache. It’s nice to be off of them for a while.
 

“Felicity couldn’t come?” I ask Ben. Obviously, she couldn’t, but I’m asking mainly because I want to see Oliver’s reaction. He doesn’t disappoint, perking up at the sound of her name, then immediately trying to hide it.
 

“She had a client with an emergency,” he says. “She’s sorry she couldn’t come, but she’ll be here next time.”
 

“Assuming there is a next time,” Oliver replies.
 

“I heard that!” Caleb shouts.

“I meant you to!”
 

“Hey Caleb,” Ben says, as he slides up to the edge of his seat. “Did you get the invite for that architectural society thing?”

“Which thing?”
 

“The benefit to raise money to preserve that old building?” Ben replies.
 

“How specific,” I tease.
 

“I don’t know,” Caleb says, flipping a steak. “I’ll check with my secretary. Why?”
 

“It’s because Marisa Blake is on the board,” Oliver replies.
 

Ben purses his lips together, looking a little…shamed? Bashful? I can’t quite place it. Oliver is grinning like a fool, and Caleb looks incredibly interested in this development. “Even after the thing with her parents?”
 

“Yep,” Oliver replies. “I think they’re keeping her on to avoid a drawing attention to her. That thing with her parents isn’t her fault, you know? And if they drop her, it’ll be a thing.”
 

“Who’s Marisa Blake? And what did her parents do?” I ask.

“Marisa Blake is Ben’s one that got away. And her parents embezzled a shitload of money,” Oliver explains.
 

“Marisa Blake, huh?” Caleb says. “Are you asking if I’ll be your wingman, or…”
 

“He needs someone to be a buffer so she doesn’t punch him in the face the second she sees him,” Oliver says, laughing.
 

“What happened?” I ask.