Chapter 17

“You’ve got a boyfriend,” Izzy sing-songs like we’re ten.

I laugh, nodding as Izzy sits down across from me for our standing Friday lunch. It’s just the two of us today. Charlotte’s got some sort of thing going at her job that has her working extra time, so she texted her regrets with a picture of a sad brown bag lunch.

It’s not the same without her, but Izzy and I have been buddies since we were sharing Oreos on the playground, so we’re used to the Two-Girl Power Trip.

“I guess so. Though calling that man a boy-anything is a little strange to hear,” I answer, chuckling as I think about Thomas. No, even with the little I know about his childhood, I can’t imagine him as a little boy running around in dirty sneakers and a tank top.

Izzy smiles, and I press her. “So, what’d you think?” She’s one of my best friends and I trust her opinion. I want her to like Thomas just as much as I do.

She sits back, humming. “I mean, on one hand, the man left me a $150 tip on a twenty-dollar order. For that alone, I’m giving him a chance. But Mia, I just...”

Izzy’s voice trails off, and we’re distracted for a moment as we give our orders. While I wait for my drink to arrive, I sip at some water, eyeing her.

“Come on, Izzy, spill it. We’ve been friends long enough that nothing you say is going to hurt our friendship.”

She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “It’s just that... okay, maybe it’s me. I mean, I’m the first to admit that I’ve got a pretty dark view on men.”

“Ohh... you don’t say?” I ask sarcastically. But then my smile drops. “So you didn’t like him?” I replay our dinner over in my head. He’d picked me up last Saturday just before seven, had seemed perfectly comfortable in the ragtag diner, and had been his usual charming self. What’s not to like? Okay, maybe not quite his usual charm. There’d been a bit more of the “professional” Thomas in his mannerisms, not rude or Ruthless Bastard style, but a little colder than he usually is with me. I’d chalked it up to nerves at meeting my friend, the way I’d been a bit awkwardly star struck at the fundraiser.

She shakes her head, putting a hand on mine, “It’s not that I didn’t like him. The whole thing just seems...” She pauses, searching for the word she wants and then settles on, “Fast. I don’t want your hormones to run away with your brain. Like, you’ve been on a couple of dates, but I could tell that man thinks you are his, in the possessive sense of the word. That’s just a bit brake-worthy to me.”

I don’t tell her about him claiming me that way at the fundraiser and how it had made me eschew the brakes and go full-throttle, pedal to the metal. Instead, her words remind me, the story falling out unbidden, “Do you know what he did on Monday?” I don’t wait for her answer, continuing, “He tried to get me to move up to his floor. It was an ‘invite’ but I don’t think he thought I’d have a problem with it. Mother Russia was not amused.”

Izzy cringes. “What’d you say? What happened?”

“I reminded him that I don’t want any favors at work, so unless he was moving the whole data analyst team up there, I was staying where I am. Plus, I reminded him that while he thinks my quirks are cute and eccentric, most people, myself included, prefer me to work in the quiet basement where I can rock out and geek out in private. And then he saw the error of his ways and apologized... on his knees.”

Izzy gasps, eyes wide with shock. “In the office?”

I nod, grinning. “In his office, overlooking all of Roseboro.”

Izzy plops back against the booth and fans her face. “Dayum, where do I sign up for that benefit package?” Her face sobers, and she purses her lips. “Look, babe, everyone’s got a good side, though Thomas Goldstone is more known for his asshole side.”

I interrupt her, holding up a finger. “As crazy as it sounds, I think he’s actually uncomfortable showing his nice side. Kinda the opposite of most guys where they put on the nice front to cover the asshole lurking underneath. Tommy wears a mask of a jerk to hide his good side.”

She presses her lips together, thinking about that. “If he’s good to you, good for you, enjoy the ride. Have fun, go do some one-percenter stuff that we never thought we’d get a chance to do, and get yourself royally laid. But be prepared for the crash.”

“The crash?” I ask, thinking of the darker side of Thomas. Already, his nickname of The Ruthless Bastard has been yammered in my ear constantly, and while Bill Radcliffe’s been cool about things, especially considering the influx of looky-loos who want to see the data analyst crazy enough to date twenty-five floors above her station, he’s not the only person who’s thrown in the towel when it comes to trying to put up with Thomas’s hard-charging nature and angry outbursts. More than a few warning stories people have shared about him call him a user, and while not an abuser... I’ve raised a few eyebrows among both the men and women around the Goldstone building.

“The crash,” Izzy confirms. “Come on, don’t make me spell it out for you. You’re in the fairy tale phase of the relationship, and that’s cool. Everything’s refreshing, sparkling, you’ve got more pep in your step than I’ve felt in... shit, I can’t even think of the last time I felt as happy as you look right now. But there are too many instances where that fairy tale turns into a bad dream, babe. I’m just saying... fairy tales don’t always come true. You know that from your own history, or did your dad being Soviet Cinderfella not teach you that lesson?”

I sigh, nodding. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out today’s gift and set it on the table between us. “I know, Izzy. But then there’s this.”

Izzy picks up the card, looking it over. It’s black, unmarked except for the chip embedded in the surface. “He gave you a credit card?”

“No... something more important,” I tell her. “It’s a keycard to his penthouse. He gave it to me this morning, saying that he understands why I don’t want the office upstairs... but that if I ever need to, I have access to his penthouse and his office. To him, anytime and always. He said that after this weekend, I’m one of three people with those cards. The other is his secretary, and he has one. Everyone else has to be buzzed in. He’s quite literally letting me inside.”

“Wow,” Izzy says, pursing her lips before sighing. “Okay. Like I said, any guy who’s willing to give me a hundred and fifty bucks on the sly is worth a shot. But be careful, and if things go to shit, I’ll be here for you.”

“I know,” I say as our lunches arrive and I put the keycard away. “I’ve got you and Char for sure, and if anything, Papa said he could give a call to some people he knows.”

“Your dad knows Russian Mafia?” Izzy asks, surprised, and I laugh, shaking my head.

“No, the closest he knows to Russian Mafia is Father Vasiliev at the Orthodox Church. If you’ve ever heard him give a sermon asking for more donations... now that man’s a gangster.”

Up until now,I’ve been a pretty big PC and video game nerd, but that was before I really started getting in deep with work and Goldstone. I guess ‘adulting’ has its consequences.

Gone are the games that need daily logins or lots of grinding. So bye-bye to Eve Online. Bye-bye even to WoW, or Final Fantasy Online.

I refuse to get beaten down to Fortnite level yet, so instead I’ve started up TERA. It’s action-packed, lots of fun, and not so complex that I can’t leave my character for two weeks without major problems.

And tonight’s the night to get my game back on. I’m just about to fire up my PC and log on when my phone rings. I see it’s Thomas, so I pick up my phone, leaning back on my sofa.

“Hey, Tommy, what’s up? Please don’t tell me you’re still in the office. I know it’s hump day, but you don’t actually have to be at the top of your mountain of paperwork to slide into Friday.”

“Nope. I stick to my policy of leaving the office by no later than six,” he says. “Though sometimes, I take work upstairs with me, but that doesn’t count.” He laughs at his own joke and I grin. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, but I wanted to wait until after work because I didn’t want you to think I was trying to hit on you in the office.”

My smile falls as I sit up, clicking into a more serious headspace. “I appreciate that. What’s up?”

“I’ve been presented with an opportunity for Goldstone. And I need to put together another project team. This is a big one, so I’ll be taking the lead on it and selecting the team myself. I’d like you to be on it, but I understand if you think that’s muddying the waters too much. You’re the best choice, but I won’t be offended if you’d rather not.” His voice is serious, showing how much he has listened to my rants about people gossiping about us and how it’s not right that everyone looks at me as playing up, not him playing down. Not that either of us is playing at this point.

“I can keep it professional. I mean, we wouldn’t be together all the time, right? We’re twenty-five floors apart. How hard can it be?”

“That’s the thing,” Thomas says. “The deal isn’t one that can be done in the office. Do you have a passport?”

“Uhh, yeah. I got one for a trip to Vancouver last year. Why?”

“The job is in Japan. I’m putting together a team for a week-long trip overseas to tour a resort location and their company headquarters to see if it’s a good fit for a capital investment. We leave a week from Friday. Until then, we’ll be buried to our eyeballs doing prep work. What do you think?”

I grin so hard my jaw aches. “You realize you just asked me if I want to go on a business trip to the home of anime, video games, and all sorts of nerdy paradise that gets my geeky heart going pitter-patter, right?”

Thomas’s laughter is silent, but I can still hear the way he’s breathing. He’s gotta be almost heaving on his end of the line. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course!” I half scream, trying not to boogie on the couch.

“But honestly, it’s just because you’ll be working with me, right?” he teases, knowing that he’s basically offered me a dream gig. Japan, a work opportunity, and him.

Thinking of him, I say, “Now, you’ve got two options. Either you let me get off here so I can play the game I was about to start, or you get your ass over here and help me work off this energy another way.”

There’s a two-second pause on the other end of the line, and then Thomas growls. “Pack a bag for work tomorrow. I’ll be by in ten minutes to pick you up.”