Chapter 03

I 'm almost out of breath as I remove my headphones, and System of a Down's song fades away as I sink back into reality. Time passed so much faster than I expected, and the hour flew by in what felt like ten minutes. There wasn't enough time to do a final sweep, but I don't think I missed anything. Please , I pray in my head, let me have this one at least .

Without removing his eyes from my screen, my new boss slightly tilts his head to the side.

"It won't work," he says with certainty.

Making my chair roll a few inches away, he comes closer.

When I see what he edits far up the script, I wince. I forgot a reference, and as he said, the script wouldn't have worked. Three extra minutes and I would have found it…

Behind me, the guys don't hide their disappointment, and the ginger one gives the bearded man a five-dollar bill. I don't have time to take offense because the boss returns his attention to me.

"It was still impressive, though," he concedes, removing his glasses and slipping them back into his collar. Just like that, Kal-El has returned. "You did a good job."

When he looks at me again with those mesmerizing and intense eyes, I suddenly understand why some people have a praise kink. And I think I'm one of them, because something happens in my core. I'm pretty sure it actually throbs , which is beyond disconcerting.

Well, someone is definitely masturbating tonight. And that someone is me.

"Welcome to the dream team, Andrea," he says, finally acknowledging that I belong here.

"Andy," I correct him .

He ignores it and stands from his chair. "Have you met your new colleagues yet?"

"Kind of."

"This is Steven," he explains, pointing at the older, bearded guy who extends his hand to shake mine. "When I'm not here, he's the one in charge, with Oliver," the boss continues, gesturing toward the red-haired one. We shake hands again as he offers me a friendly smile.

Brian is then introduced. He has Southeast Asian heritage, if I had to guess, and is also wearing a Marvel-themed T-shirt. "Your coding is so aggressive, we never thought you'd look…" he says as we shake hands, his sentence trailing off as he searches for the right word.

Our boss doesn't let him find it, moving on with the introductions. "And you've already met Mason and Joseph." His steely eyes fall on me next. "Your desk neighbors will help you settle in, and you can work with them for now. Until I find you a specific task, you'll put your sixteen years of experience to good use on whatever project they give you."

The underlying jab isn't lost on me, and my eyes narrow with displeasure.

Maybe I can just return to Portland and beg for my stupid job back after all. It sounds better than having to deal with this man. Hopefully I won't have to suffer his presence too often. It looks like his desk here is unoccupied, so I guess he has an office elsewhere. I can probably tolerate this pompous ass for an hour or so every day.

"Will do, sir," I say.

"You can call me Alexander. Or Lex, since everyone else takes that liberty."

I nod, even though I refuse to be on a nickname basis with him. "Alexander" is the best I can do, and even that's too much.

Satisfied with his work here, he gives me a dry nod and makes his way toward the exit. He turns around just before he leaves to say, "Steven, you still owe me ten bucks."

Before my bearded colleague can contest the statement, our boss is off, leaving us alone. I stare at the door, wondering what the hell is his deal.

I'm quickly distracted by the guys who gather around me.

"Girl, you ate!" Mason cheers.

"I did?"

"Absolutely," Oliver insists. "You did amazing."

Brian nods and adds, "When I started here, Lex took three weeks to welcome me into the team."

"You did it in an hour," Steven says, impressed.

"So, he's always this… intense?" I ask, signing for Joseph .

They all nod.

"He has a crazy IQ that apparently comes with a no-nonsense brain," Oliver explains. "He's always five steps ahead and doesn't care about conventions. That's why he barely ever says hello, thanks, please, goodbye… It's like a waste of time to him."

"It's not that he's a dick, though," Mason points out. "It's just that his brain ain't working like ours."

"Don't worry," Oliver says. "You'll get used to it. Did Dakota give you a tour of the place?"

"Just some quick notes as we walked here."

"Okay, I think we can take ten minutes so I can show you around." He gallantly moves to the side and gestures toward the door, encouraging me to lead.

As he leads me through the floor, I quickly realize that the company is bigger than I thought. Over seventy people work on our level, and there's a little under sixty upstairs. According to the estimates, those numbers should double within a year. To my delight, everyone is warm and welcoming.

"Half of this floor is the dev team," he explains as we cross the open space. "We're in the top-dog team, meaning project leaders. The rest of the developers basically work under us. Once you're settled in, Lex might assign you a few of them to help you with whatever you need."

"Wow… I didn't realize I'd be high on the food chain."

"Yeah, we're all senior developers. Well, I guess you're a junior, but your skills got you an instant spot with us."

Eventually, he leads me to a massive break room with tables, lounge chairs, couches, and a TV. It also has a ping-pong table, foosball, an old arcade game, vending machines… This is heaven compared to the pitiful excuse of a break room I had before—a chair and a microwave in a revamped broom closet.

"This is the leisure room and the breakroom," Oliver explains. "Or at least, that's what they call it. To us, it's the Arena of Doom. This is where you settle a beef with one of the nerds. Darts, foosball, ping-pong… you name it." He comes closer, as if he wants to confide a secret. "Ping-pong would be Steven and Joseph's weakness. For Brian, it's foosball, and Mason is laughably bad at darts."

I let out a silent giggle, amused by his playfulness. "And what's your weakness, Oliver?"

"Call me Oli. And I don't have any weakness, silly woman. I'm the final boss."

This time, I chuckle, shaking my head. "I've always been great at destroying those. So be careful who you call silly, you imprudent man."

He smiles broadly, causing dimples to appear in his cheeks .

A woman comes our way, holding a cup of fresh coffee. She has a beautiful Afro, and her gleaming skin is a light shade of brown. She's pretty in a cute way and gives off a very kind, very gentle vibe. Oli waves for her to join us, so she does with curiosity.

"This is Tamika," Oliver introduces while signing fluently. "She works upstairs with R&D. Tami, this is Andy. She's with the dream team." Tami smiles at me, revealing a perfect set of pearly teeth.

We both extend our hands at the same time. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Tami," I say while signing the words.

"Let me know if you need anything," she offers with genuine kindness before leaving.

"It's awesome that you know ASL," Oliver notes as he guides me to our next destination. "It's not exactly a requirement, but almost everyone in the company does. There are eight people who are deaf or hard of hearing working here, so the company offers free ASL training to anyone interested. How did you learn it?"

"My brother was born deaf, so I know American and Mexican Sign Language."

"Mexican, too?"

"Yeah. Rafa wanted to show our mom that her side mattered as much as our father's, so he insisted we speak both languages, as any mixed family would."

"That's so cool of him. I love that."

"Me too. My brother is the reason why I'm so invested in this new job. I want to be part of the team that helps make the world more accessible for people like him."

"Well, you're part of it now."

I am. All I need to do is remain diplomatic enough to not be fired by my obnoxious boss.

My suspicions that I'll fit right in are clearer than ever when we come back from our tour. The guys are debating about who is the best Batman. I end up settling the argument when I mention my personal favorite, Kevin Conroy, from The Animated Series . That's one they can all agree on.

Mason and Joseph give me my tasks for the morning, and I easily breeze through them. So far, working for Kelex isn't proving as challenging as I worried it might be. Aside from my boss, of course.

Then, as if I need more proof that I've found my people, lunch break comes. That's when I accept I've landed in heaven. These nerds play first-person shooting video games in their downtime, and I decide this job is the best thing that will ever happen to me.

"We usually play Counter-Strike ," Oliver explains to me. "You in, young Padawan? "

"I haven't played it in ages."

"Are you worried you'll lose?" Brian snickers.

"I'm sure I can still kick your ass."

I haven't prepared anything for my lunch, so I buy a few things from the vending machines to eat during the loading screens. I set my name as She-Hulk, so everyone knows it's me. After a few rounds, I'm happy to see myself in second place—behind Grizzly, Steven's alias. As the game progresses, I get more comfortable and gain on him. That is, until a player named Luthor joins us. He quickly rises up to my score with his impressive skills. Because of this new player, my team gets slaughtered round after round.

When Luthor kills me for the fourth time in a row, and with a perfect headshot at that, I groan and frustratingly take a bite of my Snickers bar. "Who the hell is that?" I ask, angrily chewing as my patience runs thin.

Oliver laughs before sending me a compassionate look. "It's the boss."

Really? But why—

Lex. Lex Luthor. Oh, that's clever…

I've been comparing him to Superman when, all along, he's been his nemesis. The man assimilates himself to an evil genius, which should be enough to quench my curiosity about him. But maybe I'm a little twisted in the head because I kinda like the idea.

We keep playing, and when the lunch break ends, I sourly stare at the final scoreboard. I'm close to Steven but still far from "Luthor."

Joseph gives me a shoulder tap, so I turn to him. "Don't worry," he signs. "You'll beat them in no time."

"Thanks. I may have a chance with Steven but not much with the boss."

"He barely ever joins us. You'll have to settle for second place when he does." His kindness brings a wide smile to my lips.

I work for about an hour before receiving an email from someone in the HR department. They forgot a document I needed to sign for my benefits, so I decide to sort it right away.

On my way to the stairs, I pull out my phone to check my messages. In our family group chat, my parents wished me luck, while Rafa told me to be normal for once and not bomb this one. Kate also texted, saying that since she didn't get any desperate texts from me, I probably wasn't fired on the spot, and she hopes it's going well. As I climb up the stairs, I respond to my family and invite Rafa to go fuck himself with a separate message, making sure I don't trip on a step and fall on my face.

When I reach the twenty-eighth floor, I push through the door, a cheerful smile on my face as I answer Kate. We've been friends for most of our lives. She's the sister I never had, and I'm hers. Since we keep no secrets from one another, I decide to tell her about my misogynistic BILF—boss I'd like to fuck.

Just as I send it, I violently bump into a firm, warm, and broad body. My phone slips from my hands and falls on the carpeted floor with a dull thump.

"I'm so sorry!" I apologize, lifting my head. I go rigid when I see who I collided with, and my lower stomach does some kind of backflip.

Of course, of all the people I can run into, it has to be him . Do I have the ability to summon the man with my thoughts?

I stare up into the icy gray eyes behind his glasses. When he sees it's me, he frowns and bends to grab my phone before I can. He glances at the crack on the screen—already there before the fall—and then hands it back to me.

"You should look ahead when you walk." His voice is stern and cold, but I barely notice as he adjusts his glasses, and my brain goes MIA. Damn it, since when do I have a thing for men wearing glasses?

Trying to appear unfazed, I look at the papers in his hands. He wasn't looking ahead either, or this wouldn't have happened. He seems to catch my train of thought. "I'm working. You were texting. Not the same." Well, he isn't totally wrong, so I keep my mouth shut.

"Are you looking for HR?"

"Yes, they forgot to have me sign something this morning."

"I see." That's all I get before he's back on his way. After two steps, he turns to me again, hesitant. A faint touch of appreciation veils his stoic expression. "By the way, not too bad, She-Hulk."

Not waiting for my answer, he resumes his course. I stand there like an idiot, watching him walk away. Pride swells in my chest, not because he is my boss, but because he is a fantastic player, and getting recognition from him means a lot.

As he walks away from me, I can't help but take a few seconds to admire his form. He's around 6'3", has broad shoulders, narrow hips, and is muscular. He isn't buff, but he definitely works out. There is no doubt he does squats—not with that ass.

Eventually, he disappears into a room, and losing sight of him gives me back control of my brain.

For the tenth time today, I scold myself when I glance down at my phone. My screen is still on, and the message I sent Kate is displayed.

Me

It's going great, except for my boss, who's both a sexist asshole and the hottest man I've ever seen.

Okay, if I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me earlier, it's nothing compared to now. I'm one embarrassing moment away from leaving everything and becoming a llama shepherd in the Andes mountains.

Could he have read it? He had his glasses on, so he could have, but he didn't gaze at my phone for more than two seconds, and the cracked screen could have distracted him from what lay behind it. It's very possible he didn't read it. He would have fired me or argued he isn't sexist.

My phone buzzes in my hand. Kate replied.

Kate

OMG! You have to tell me everything in detail tonight!!! Can you snap a picture of him?

I roll my eyes and type a quick answer.

Me

Calma tus tetas, blondie, I'm not taking a picture of him. I'll spill the tea tonight, tho. Gtg, love you.

With a sigh, I shove my phone into my pocket and head to HR to sign those last papers.

Once I return to the Lair, I spend the rest of the afternoon working with Mason, getting accustomed to how things are run here. When we reach five-thirty, everyone packs up, ready to go home. It's nice to have regular hours for once. I'm particularly exhausted after this intense first day. Once all my things are ready to go, I hook my headphones around my neck and walk out at the same time as Oliver.

"Is it creepy if I say I'm thrilled you turned out to be a woman?" he asks as we walk to the elevators.

"Maybe a little," I laugh, half-amused, half-flattered.

"Yeah, I figured… I'm not sure how to explain it. I feel like you'll add some delicateness to the office."

"I wouldn't bet on that." I wince.

He laughs and pushes the elevator button. "Well, I'll say you're nicer to look at than another bearded nerd, then. Steven is enough."

Unfamiliar with this kind of situation, I don't know how to reply to his compliment, so I plaster an awkward smile on my face. Oliver is cute and charming in his own way, and he has the confidence that comes with it. Discreetly looking at him, I take in his profile. He's a good seven inches taller than me, and his auburn hair makes him stand out. His build is slender but not to a fault, and his face is a little angular, but it gives him an undeniable charm.

We chat the whole way down, and I love hearing more about his experience with the company and the team. Honestly, I'll love working here, despite some unforeseen circumstances .

"Are you taking the bus?" Oliver asks once we're out of the building. We're two blocks from Pike Street, where I have a direct bus line to my neighborhood.

"Yes, to Ballard."

"Ah, I'm heading south. I get off at Lincoln Park. At least we get to walk to the station together."

Okay, now he has to be flirting, just a bit. It isn't so far-fetched that someone would be interested in me like this, but it isn't common. I'm agreeable to look at, from what I've been told—and not only by my mother. But I'm not breaking necks when I pass people in the streets, either.

Oliver is alluring, sweet, and funny, which is quite an irresistible combination. If I were looking for someone, a guy like him would be high on my list.

I'm taken out of my thoughts when Oliver clears his throat, still waiting for my answer. "Yes! Sorry, of course. We'll walk together to the stop."

As we walk, we talk about anything and everything. Turns out we have many of the same interests, from video games to movies, and a passion for old science fiction shows. We stop at a crossing, and it's already time to part. His body leans forward for a fraction of a second before he eventually extends his hand. I shake it, and we part with friendly grins.

I reach my platform and see him step on his at the same time. Our eyes meet, and we smile at each other one last time.

M y excellent mood hasn't faded by the time I arrive home. A little out of breath, I get to my door on the third floor. I wrestle with it, only to be greeted by my very unfamiliar living room, which also serves as a bedroom and a kitchen. I also have a single window overlooking the building's pitiful courtyard.

The piles of boxes have me sighing, and I wonder if I'll have the strength and courage to take care of them tonight. I haven't unpacked anything yet and only opened boxes to take what I need as I go. Today has been tiring enough, though, so I'm not starting the unpacking now.

I drop my bag, pop open the button of my jeans, pull my shirt out of it, and unhook my bra before removing it with practiced ease. When the cumbersome accessory is taken care of, I throw it on a chair where clothes are already piling up. I drop on the couch, which unpleasantly reminds me of the presence of my phone in my back pocket. There's a message from Kate when I pull it out.

Kate

I'm waiting!

With a smile, I open our conversation and tap the camera icon to call her. It rings twice before she picks up. My smile widens when her familiar face appears on the screen. "Oh, hello, Jabba the Hutt," she greets me.

My face in the upper corner of the screen easily explains the insult. "You nasty bitch! You know I'm not to be teased about my double chin."

"You don't have a double chin."

"I do."

"You don't."

"I do when I do that," I insist, shoving my head into my shoulders.

"Everyone has a double chin when they do that, you idiot."

"Not everyone."

"Yeah, you're right. Chris Hemsworth probably doesn't." No need to even try arguing about this one. "You're back at your studio, I see?"

"Yeah, just got here."

"So, how was your first day, babe?"

"It went great. It's like I was born for this job and this team. The guys are total nerds like me, so it's been awesome so far." I tell her about everything—the company, the office, the "dream team," even about Dakota and Tami. When I'm done, I stop talking, searching for what else to tell her, staring at the ceiling. A few seconds pass before I notice that the paint is peeling. This apartment is truly horrible, but it's the only one I could find on such short notice.

"Now that you've told me all about the uninteresting things," Kate eventually says, "on to the good stuff. How about that sexy boss of yours?"

I wince and look away from the screen, not knowing how to explain it to Kate without her getting any weird ideas. "He's strange," I eventually say. "Apparently, he is some sort of asocial genius, so he's super rude."

"But he's hot."

"It doesn't make up for being an asshole. He thought I cheated to get in. He couldn't believe I did it without the help of a male friend."

"That dick!" she protests with an appalled face, finally getting my vibe. "I hope you proved that idiot wrong."

"You know I did. I made him regret it."

"That's my girl!" There is a short silence, and I look away from my phone to my messy room. "Did you finish unpacking?"

"No. I still need to muster the courage to even start. "

"You've been there for three days. Stop procrastinating and get your lazy ass to work."

"I can't tonight. I have plans," I pretend.

"What plans?"

"I'm gonna Netflix and chill."

"I know you mean Netflix and actually chill," she answers, not duped. "Since you haven't unpacked, you most definitely haven't found Idris yet."

Idris, named after one of the sexiest men to have ever lived, Idris Elba, is my clitoral massager, my most trusted companion in the darkest hours of the night. I'm a little offended, even though she has every reason to assume I'm not talking about an actual human.

"Maybe I meant with a real man."

"No, you didn't. You never do."

"But I can't unpack right now… I'm exhausted."

"Well then, tonight you rest, but tomorrow you unpack, and I want a picture to prove you did it."

"I swear I will," I promise. My phone buzzes in my hand, and on the top of my screen, I see it's my mother. "Mom's calling, I have to go. Love you!"

She barely has time to reply before I hang up and take my mother's call, eager to hear her comforting and familiar voice. With a broad smile, I hold the phone to my ear. " ?Hola mamá! ?Cómo estás? "

"I'm great, mija . And you, how are you?" she continues in Spanish.

"I'm great too . Except I miss you guys."

"We miss you too," she says with palpable emotion. I hear my father's voice close to the phone. "Your dad says hi."

"Hi, Dad!" I yell, hoping he can hear me.

"Hey, peanut!" He definitely has his ear pressed against my mom's phone. "We're very proud of you, you know?"

A twinge of melancholy tightens my heart. My parents and I are close, especially since I only moved out of the family house three years ago when I got my first proper job. It was still in Portland, though, so I've never lived so far from them.

Both my mother's parents were first-generation Mexican immigrants. I barely got to know my abuelo, but my abuela, Maria Carmen, has been living with us for the past twenty years or so. On my dad's side, everyone was cut off before I was born—no racist bigots allowed in this family.

My parents are the cutest couple I know, and I wish for everyone to find what they have. Thirty-something years together and Michael and Isabella Walker are still smitten with one another. My father's loving gaze when he looks at my mom is why my standards are so high. I won't settle for anything less than that.

I tell them about my day and how great things will be. I, of course, don't tell them about my frustrating boss and the confusing thoughts he triggers in me, but I do tell them about the few people I met.

Despite a rocky start, today was great.