Single Sashimi (6 page)

Well, it explained who’d dare to call so early. Drake knew her schedule better than most of the CEOs she’d worked for. She flipped the phone open. “Hi, Drake.”

“Venus.”

That deep voice, slightly husky, slurring his words just a little, skipping over vowels. Just the sound made her remember his figure at the end of the meeting room table, long fingers fiddling with his fountain pen, the funny twitchy way he’d adjust his tie—usually blue, his favorite color—just before he intended to close down some discussion.

“Are you finally going to start your own company?”

“What?” Darn it, she hadn’t been able to keep that from exploding out of her mouth. She cleared her throat. “What are you talking about?” How did he know? She ignored the “finally” that was almost a compliment, considering who it was coming from.

“You were thinking about it when you worked for me.”

“Why, are you interviewing for CEO?”
Not that I’ d ever hire you.

“I figured you’d be Chief Executive Officer yourself.”

Had she revealed part of her hand? Well, who cared if she did.

“No, I don’t have the personality for a CEO. I need to hire one who will help get me funding. I intend to focus on operations.”

“I heard that Oomvid passed you over for Game Lead.”

Crunch!
Venus’s molars collided, and pain stabbed into her jaw like needles. She unclamped her teeth slowly. “Did they announce it this morning?”

“On the Web.”

A pause while she massaged her jaw and salvaged her pride. “Why are you calling, Drake?” She hated having to ask him, but she wanted to get back to her routine. She still had her prayers to do, and she had lots to pray about today.

“I’ve come out of retirement temporarily.”

So soon?
He’d retired last November. Not that she was keeping up with him, but she’d happened to read about it somewhere.

He paused a long moment, as if he expected her to say something. She didn’t respond, instead grabbing more paper towels.

“My younger sister has started her own company, a Web-based virtual community. Bananaville is like Secondlife, but family-friendly.”

Secondlife had exploded in recent years. The virtual world was essentially a gigantic multi-person game where people’s virtual selves interacted with other virtual people. There were “islands” for interaction and entertainment, and residents could create their own islands, plus buy, sell, and trade with other residents.

She was intrigued in spite of herself. A Secondlife exclusively for children and parents would be interesting, provided they could get the right corporate sponsors to host their own “islands” within the game. Venus mopped up the majority of the coffee, then crouched down to swipe at the underside of the table and the wall.

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

“You’re breathing…unusually hard.”

Venus gave a last grunt as she wiped the chair legs. “If you must know, I’m cleaning my kitchen while I wait for you to get to the point.”

A soft exhale. “Same old Venus.”

She tossed the towels in her trash can. “You have thirty seconds to—”

“I want to hire you for my sister’s company.”

“What part about ‘starting my own company’ did you not get?” She pulled out the bottle of Lysol and a bucket, then went to the coat closet to get the mop.

“I’m guessing you won’t be at Oomvid much longer, and I only want to hire you for a few months.”

“Doing what?” She splashed some Lysol into the mop bucket.

“Chief Technology Officer.”

She froze. The Lysol bottle slipped. She grabbed for it and dropped the cell phone with a clatter.

“Venus?”

She snatched the phone up. “I’m here.” She capped the bottle.

“I’ve never been CTO. You know that.”

“I’ve also seen you at work and know you’d be a good one.”

“You’re saying”—she turned on the faucet to fill the bucket halfway—“you’d hire me, without proper credentials, based on how I worked for you five years ago?” She wet the mop.

“I talked with some of your other employers.”

“Are you stalking me?” She started mopping one-handed, awkwardly jamming the mop head into her chair leg.

“You have a reputation for being difficult to work with, Venus.”

Whoa! Now, that was blunt. She stopped mopping, feeling her nails press into the wooden handle. “I am n—” She swallowed. “I am demanding of my team, and I get the job done on time. Every time.”

“It will be hard to find someone else to work for, especially if you’re going to set off on your own in a few months.”

No kid gloves for Drake. She shouldn’t be surprised—he’d always been that way with her, and she with him. “That’s just your opinion.” Except a nauseating gurgle in her stomach told her she knew it was true.

“How much are you hoping to earn? How long are you willing to work to earn it?”

She sniffed and didn’t answer him. She’d been acting Game Lead at Oomvid—she could demand a high salary at her next position. Provided people
wanted to work with her.

He named a figure that made her cough. Drake ignored her gurgling. “I’ll pay you that for twelve months of your time, Venus.”

“You’re trusting me not to drive your company into the ground?”

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s not your nature.”

Drat, the man knew her too well.

“I can help you with the logistics of starting your own company.”

She snorted.

He sighed. “Venus, don’t be stupid.”

“I like being pig-headed.” Her tone was sweeter than her organic Hawaiian white honey.

“I’ve started four successful companies, and I helped my sister start this one. I might actually know something about it.”

Sarcasm. That was new. “And you’d help me?” Sure, he’d help her. He’d help her right into a minefield. “Why?”

“Because I want you to work for me.”

She heard in his voice that resonance that was almost a growl, that titanium-hard determination to get what he wanted. And he usually got what he wanted.

Not this time. Last time had been enough. She wasn’t about to confess he’d scarred her for life, but she didn’t care if it was a choice between Drake and McDonalds—she’d choose french fries. “I don’t want to work for you again, Drake.”

“I know you don’t.”

A Zippo lighter sprang to life in her chest, searing her breastbone.

“So why are you pushing this?”

“Because I also know you’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong very often.”
Not when it comes to you.

“You will be a brilliant CTO, and you and I will work together very well.”

That Zippo lighter was warming her core, but not searing her. No, she wouldn’t be turned by his compliments, because he’d paired it with a statement she completely disagreed with. “This conversation is ended, Drake.” She snapped her phone shut.

She stared at it, lying in her open palm. Then she noticed it was shaking. She set the phone down on the counter.

She’d never work for him again. It would take an act of God.

Venus kicked her office door shut and plopped into her chair. Slipping off her heinous shoes—new, absolutely gorgeous, and already feeling like a spike thrust into her heel, even though it was only noon—she propped her feet up on her desk and dialed Lex. “Hey How’s she doing?”

“Same as the last time you called. She’s still not dilated enough.”

“But it’s been over eighteen hours.”

“Tell me about it.” Lex sighed.

“Hey, are you in trouble for taking off work today?”

“Naw. SPZ lets me take personal days at a moment’s notice, and my boss knows about Trish and the baby.”

Lex’s company, SPZ, had such a laid-back atmosphere compared to most of the companies Venus had worked at. Oomvid took the cake. Edgar had thrown a fit when she’d asked for time off this morning so she could go to the hospital.

Venus sighed as she squelched a burp from the green monster in her gut. She may have to put up with more inflexible policies, but she was also paid a lot more than Lex. “Who’s still there at the hospital?”

“Trish’s parents are still around. I think they went for a walk together—they’ve been almost like newlyweds the past few months, have you noticed? Anyway, Grandma’s somewhere harassing the nurses. Oh, and your mom’s still here too.”

“My mom?” Venus drew her feet down and sat up.

“Yeah…she’s been pretty nice, talking to me.”

“I never said she couldn’t be charming when she wanted to.” She just never used it on her daughter unless she wanted something.

“Well, she’s actually been encouraging. She told me your birth was pretty long too, and that I shouldn’t worry about Trish; the doctors and technology are better these days than when she was pregnant, yadda yadda yadda.”

A brisk knock at the door, and her admin poked her head in. “Venus, Jaye’s programmers have a problem. They need you now.”

“Lex, I’ll have to call you back.” She headed up a couple floors to where the programmers’ cubicles crowded the office floor like
Tetris
, and just as colorful. Computer science guys tended to have the weirdest, funnest, wildest games for their desks. No simple basketball hoops over the trash cans for these guys. They had Space Invaders jaws over their trash, which chewed up any incoming bogeys that the sensors detected.

“Hey, Venus.” She caught a bright pink and green Nerfball in the shape of a pair of antlers that was thrown at her. It had “Down with Ms. PacMan!” written on it.

She threw it back to her senior graphics designer. “You’ll get in trouble, brandishing that in here.” The gamers still slavishly devoted to old-school vintage games would lynch him. Or at least spill soda on his keyboard.

“Bring it on.” He growled and struck an Incredible Hulk pose.

She hurried to the back of the large room, past more cubicles. Men stared at her. They usually did,
now.
They hadn’t even seen her before the weight loss, despite the fact there had been more of her to see.

A part of her slumped in the cynical observation that she had to work her tail off to earn respect whether she was fat or skinny, only to find she didn’t get it either way.

She entered a cluster of cubicles inhabited by her programmers. “What’s up, guys?”

“Check it out.” Jaye—a senior programmer, one of her oldest friends, and her secret business partner—pointed to another programmer’s screen. They all crammed into the cubicle to look.

While staring at the screen, Jaye jostled her elbow and whispered, “Venus.”

She turned her head slightly. “What?”

“Yardley came to talk to me today.”

Cue the creepy, urgent music from
Saw
. “About?”

Jaye pressed his lips together for a second. His breath whistled through his large Roman nose. “Said we might have a new development tool to work with. Something that will integrate all areas of game development, be compatible with all programs.”

Venus stared ahead but didn’t see the monitor anymore. “Did he say where that tool was coming from?”

“No. Evasive about it, but seemed pretty certain we’d have it in a few weeks. Clear he didn’t know I’m working on it with you.” Jaye cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t want to give Yardley our—?”

“Are you high? Of course not. We’re partners in this.” They had been the Dynamic Duo ever since they thought up the Spiderweb years ago, when they’d been working together at a startup company.

“Thought so.” He turned to glance down the aisles between the cubicles. “Wanted to give you a heads-up. Don’t like where this is headed.”

“I’ll try to fix it.”

“Might not be able to fix this one, Venus.”

“So, what do you think?” One of the junior programmers turned and stared at Venus through his green Lennon glasses, waiting for an answer.

She’d completely missed the problem they’d been showing her on the screen.

“Venus!”

She was almost glad for the interruption, until she turned to see Edgar hustling down the aisle between cubicles straight for her. Lovely.

“Hi, Venus.” His round face pulled into a childlike smile. She almost couldn’t tell how false it was. “Where are the weekly update reports?”

“I gave you the ones I drew up from last week.”

“Where are this week’s?”

“That’s your job now, Edgar.” She pitched her voice like Vietnamese iced coffee—sweet and bitter at the same time.

His smile stayed in place, but his hand came up to finger his thick, curly brown hair. “I, ah, just sent you an email.”

“About?” She rested her weight on one hip, keeping her face neutral.

“Let’s go to your office so I can show you. It’s all in the memo.”

“I’m taking care of something here. I’ll join you in a minute.” She turned back to the gaggle of programmers.

“I need you now, Venus.”

His tone had been light, but the words made her shoulders slam out and back into steel rods. She felt a growling deep in her gut, a tiger that wanted to come roaring out of her mouth. He had
not
just reprimanded her in front of her programmers. She turned to him.

Her gaze should have blasted him colder than arctic winds from a frozen tundra. He kept smiling, although his hazel eyes seemed to glow like coals.