Chapter 15
fifteen
. . .
Witt
Every system eventually reaches a point where adding more rules creates more problems than it solves.
By six a.m., I have reviewed the quarterly reports under the Synatrix umbrella, but can’t remember a damn thing I read, mainly because I failed to stop thinking about Maci Hart’s mouth.
This is a productivity issue.
I lean back in my chair, place my hands behind my neck and draw a long heavy breath. I should leave for my meeting.
Statistically, that should reduce the probability of encountering Maci Hart before eight.
It doesn't.
When I walk out, she’s already in her office, eyes glued to her computer screen, sitting cross-legged with a messy silvery knot on top of her head.
This wasn't part of the plan. Kissing her wasn’t either.
She hasn't seen me.
Good.
I turn around and head past my office, down the corridor to my personal elevator. It’s a less efficient way of getting to the Armadillo offices, but it’s necessary.
I’m not sure why I’m going there. To escape a run-in with Maci? Definitely.
Greyson and Sutton are standing there with iced drinks, laughing.
“Hey.”
“It’s a little early to be out of your hole, isn’t it?,” Greyson asks, teasing.
I look at my watch and it’s only a few minutes after seven. When did Maci get to the office? Why didn’t she come say good morning? She had to see me—the walls are glass. My back must have been turned. Maybe she regrets the kiss.
“Shouldn’t you be developing talent?” I joke back.
Sutton chimes in. “The gala was gorgeous and I can’t believe how much money was raised for your charity.”
“I’m matching it.”
“So did you need me?” Sutton asks. “I know you don’t need him.” She nudges my brother playfully.
“Um… I…” Shit. I never stammer. They’re going to know something is bothering me so I blurt out, “Tyler and Paulina.”
Sutton interrupts. “He’s a sweetheart.”
“Oh. G told me she and Trevor broke up, so I…”
“Aww, Witt was worried about Paulina,” Greyson slaps my back.
“You were the one who came crying in my office how you loved Trevor.”
Sutton glares at him and then me.
“I said she was heartbroken,” Greyson says, shaking his head.
“Not anymore.”
“Okay, enough about Paulina. She’s a teenager and if dancing with Maci’s brother helps her not think about Trevor, then I’m all for it,” Sutton says emphatically. “And since we’re talking about Maci, she looked stunning last night. I hope you told her.”
“Told her she was stunning? No.”
Why didn’t I? She was stunning. She stole every molecule of oxygen in my lungs. Saying something like that is intimate but not nearly as intimate as looking someone deep into their eyes or kissing.
Sutton and Greyson both frown, shaking their heads.
“The first e-gaming football competition is in two weeks. Keeping you in the loop.” My weight shifts uncomfortably because I want to tell them I kissed Maci and get their advice, but I can’t get the words to come out. So, I leave and go back to my office.
An hour later...
Dara walks in carrying coffee. "You know there's a shorter hallway."
"I do."
"You took the long one."
"Correct."
She watches me for several seconds. "You've reorganized your calendar three times this morning."
"I found inefficiencies."
"Umm, I see you also rotated your keyboard."
"It was two degrees off."
Silence.
Then...
"Witt."
"...Yes?"
"You had a strategy meeting with Maci this morning and you cancelled it for no reason. Why?"
"I am optimizing."
"No."
Another pause. "You are avoiding her."
"I fail to see the distinction."
"I know. She was fantastic last night with donors and sponsors. We only have two weeks until the e-football opener."
“I know.”
She stands for another thirty seconds without saying a word. When she realizes I’m not going to talk to her, she leaves.
I try to concentrate, but somehow, every email reminds me of her.
One mentions rookie retention.
Another has her name.
Another references last night’s gala, specifically saying that Maci Hart is as sharp as tack.
I reread that email several times because Maci is intelligent, quick witted and her lips are so soft.
I let out an exasperated sigh. Why can’t I stop thinking about her?
Dara finally walks back in.
"She needs your approval."
"For?"
"The revised mentor rollout."
"Email."
"I tried."
"Good."
"She said you'd want to see it for yourself.”
Blowing out a heavy breath, I say, “Correct."
Dara smiles. "I'll send her."
"No."
"Witt."
"Five minutes." Because I need time to gather myself .
"I'll tell her two."
She leaves before I can argue. I may have to fire Dara. In all honesty, she’s the one who keeps this place running and I absolutely couldn’t keep creating games, merchandise, e-gaming leagues and streaming services without her.
She runs interference for me—but only when she wants to.
Three quiet taps.
Damn those two minutes went by fast.
"Mm."
Maci steps inside carrying a tablet, wearing jeans today, white sneakers and a Synatrix hoodie. Her hair looks like she put it up wet and it’s dried wavy. She looks comfortable and that seems even more dangerous.
I focus on the tablet instead of the cute way her nose turns up at the end.
"You needed approval."
"Actually..." She sits across from me. "...I wanted your opinion."
Okay, I can do this. Act like nothing happened even though her being in the same room is setting off feelings I shouldn’t have.
She offers the tablet and I read over the changes for the Rookie Program.
Player mentors now earn achievements.
Returning veterans unlock exclusive cosmetic rewards for helping new players.
Community captains.
Regional tournaments.
Everything connects.
It’s scalable.
Very...
Rune.
No.
Stop.
I hand the tablet back. "This is better."
"I thought so." Her smile appears immediately.
"You were right."
"I know."
The confidence should bother me.
Instead, it makes me want to give her another impossible problem. Not because I think she'll fail. I just like watching her solve things.
That realization is concerning.
She stands and rubs her hands on her jeans. "So..."
I wait.
"We're okay?” she asks quietly, not accusing like she’s going to HR and not like she’s asking for more.
She’s hopeful.
I finally look at her. Really look.
The memory of last night crashes back so violently I almost forget to answer.
"No."
The word leaves before I can stop it. Pain flashes across her face.
"I mean..." I start over. "We're not...not okay." I say, trying to recover.
She gives me the smallest smile.
"I have absolutely no idea what that means."
Neither do I.
"I crossed a professional boundary."
"You kissed me."
"...Yes."
"I was there."
My pulse spikes. She's teasing me, slightly.
I shouldn't enjoy that.
"I apologize." The words feel wrong because I’m not sorry that I kissed her. How could I be? Her lips felt perfect cuddled up against mine.
An apology feels incomplete. I should be telling her that she’s amazing.
She folds her arms.
"For kissing me?"
"No."
That gets her attention.
"For putting you in a difficult position."
Silence.
Then...
"I wasn't uncomfortable."
"I know."
"You do?"
"I would've noticed."
She studies me for a long moment.
"So why are you acting like you regret it?"
Because if I answer honestly, everything changes.
Because I wanted to kiss you again and I couldn’t.
Because I have spent eight hours redesigning my schedule instead of admitting I miss seeing you in my kitchen.
Because before Maci, my life worked exactly the way I designed it. Predictable. Efficient. Quiet. Then she looked at me in that emerald dress and kissed me. Now the quiet feels too quiet, and for the first time in my life, I have no interest in restoring the system to the way it was.
None of those answers are appropriate.
"I don't regret it."
The confession escapes before I can analyze it.
She blinks and her eyes widen a bit.
And I think mine do too. Apparently we're both surprised.
"I regret..." I search for the correct word."...the complication."
Her shoulders relax. "But not..." She doesn't finish.
"No."
One word.
Entire truth.
Not the kiss.
Never the kiss.
A silence settles between us and for some reason it doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable like I thought it would.
She nods once. "I can work with complicated."
Then she turns toward the door.
"Maci."
She stops.
Without looking back.
"Yes?"
My mouth opens, but I have no idea what I’m trying to say.
Stay.
Don't move out.
Don't smile at Chase like that.
Please keep looking at me the way you did last night.
Instead, I ask the safest question available. "Would you like another problem to solve?"
She laughs, actually laughs.
"You have a very strange way of flirting, Witt."
The door closes before I can explain that I wasn't flirting.
At least... I don't think I was.
The office is quiet again.
I stare at the closed door for a long time and open a blank document.
Title: ???
Problem: Maci Hart
Under it, I type one sentence.
Objective: Determine why one employee has rendered every existing system unexpectedly ineffective.
I stare at the words.
Then, for the first time in my professional career...
I have absolutely no idea where to begin.