2. And your opponent is…
CHAPTER 2
AND YOUR OPPONENT IS…
EMMA
H elix’s headquarters took three years to build and boasts biometric entry, facial recognition, and a “defining carbon footprint.”
Out of the four thousand people who call 1105 Martin Place home—and Helix does its best to make us live in the office—there’s only one I truly hate.
Charlie Walker.
Which is why my stomach drops when I find the backstabbing pretty boy from Operations sitting shoulder to shoulder with my boss for the impromptu meeting I was summoned to.
The same meeting I am now desperately trying to decipher.
Because it can’t be the promotion I’ve worked my ass off for, and since the smiling bane of my existence is here, it can’t be anything good.
Roberts waves me into the room and gestures for me to close the door. This meeting room seats ten, but right now it feels uncomfortably small.
Charlie reclines extravagantly in his seat, head cocked, smirk firmly in place. So sure everything is about to go his way.
As always, he’s perfectly put together. Tailored navy suit—a Zegna pinstripe that’s making my mouth water—white shirt, dark tie. Paired with his pink pouty lips, silky brown hair, and blue, blue eyes, Charlie’s a walking aphrodisiac.
It’s a dangerous trap to admire.
I take a seat across from him, barely concealing my glare.
He winks.
Annoyance bubbles up inside me, but I can’t flip him off like I want to. Not with Roberts here. Even so, I focus my loathing for him across the barren gray room with so much force there’s no way Charlie doesn’t get the message.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says.
His smile sparkles like a diamond and leaves me twice as tipsy as champagne. I’d almost forgotten how attractive he is.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’d need to be dead to forget those dimples.
Roberts taps a cracked knuckle on the table, impatient. “I have a meeting in ten minutes, so I’ll make this quick.” He turns his body—along with the bulk of his attention—toward Charlie and rests his elbow casually on the table. I’ve always known Roberts to be an exacting man, with the cold, hard stare of airport security, but for Charlie, he’s practically swooning.
“I’ve been given budget approval for an information analyst. This will be a lead position, reporting directly to me, with responsibilities across corporate functions and projects. Now, as seniors with good track records, you’re both eligible for the role. But before I can recommend one of you to the lead team, I have a project for you.”
This is Roberts’s preferred method of delivery. Drop a huge responsibility into my lap with little to no details, call it a development opportunity, and then rush out of the room before I can get my bearings.
So that’s why the devil is here.
Across the table, Charlie’s expression is as blank as the meeting room walls, and he’s unusually quiet.
I’ve never seen him like this, but I’m too busy being annoyed that Roberts still doesn’t trust me to complete this project alone. One step forward, seven steps back.
“At present,” he says, “there are over thirty standards that govern our information at a corporate level. That number needs to come down drastically by the end of the year. I shouldn’t need to tell either of you how important this is, especially after the reputational hit Digital took after the rollout of the system last year.” Roberts sends me a pointed look.
Even though bile is stinging my throat, I hold his gaze and force a nod.
“We have an uphill battle ahead of us, and the person who lands the analyst role will need to spearhead a full sweep of our Governance footprint. For now, though, I need you to start with the top-level procedure. This is an opportunity not only for the function, but for you as well. You’ve both proven you can deliver high-quality results. You especially, Charlie.”
My blood boils.
This is it. My promotion. The job I have earned with my tears, sweat, and thousands of unpaid hours of overtime.
I’m so, so close.
There’s only Charlie in my way.
“The two of you will work together to simplify the procedure. I don’t care how you manage it, but deliver that before the end of the quarter, and I’ll decide who is the best candidate for the promotion.”
Roberts checks his watch, then stands.
“I trust I can leave you to work out the details?”
“Of course,” I answer quickly. The last thing I need is Roberts insinuating I’m not a team player. I might despise every part of the man sitting across from me, but I’m still a professional, dammit.
Charlie, on the other hand, turns his head to roll his eyes. If I were ever caught doing that, I’d be raked over the coals, but oh no, not him.
“Good. Send me your action plan by the end of the week.”
With that, he’s gone, and the room falls into a deadly silence.
If I could think, I’d make up an excuse and leave. A meeting or a document-related emergency. Instead, I’m wondering how in the hell my life has come to this.
“So,” Charlie drawls from across the table.
Teeth gritted, I meet his gaze.
The first time I met Charlie Walker, he sauntered into my meeting room wearing a pinstripe McQueen blazer that did incredible things to his shoulders and waist, and the sight of him immediately banished every word in my head.
Tall, trim, pretty. A killer smile. In that moment, I wanted to know everything. I soon discovered he was as despicable as the devil himself.
No matter what I said, Charlie fought me every step of the way. As if I’d personally selected a system that only barely fit our needs. As though I hadn’t already faced the wrath of every other department I’d trained.
If I’d known he’d follow up that glowing moment by taking credit for all of my hard work, I would have… well, I’m not sure what I could have done, but I wouldn’t have wasted a single thought on how much I’d like to see what was under those expensive clothes.
The only thing we’ve ever agreed on?
We hate each other.
Charlie fucking Walker.
The smug son of a bitch I now have to work with.
“So,” I fire back, lifting my chin. I’m not about to give him an inch.
Propping his elbow on the table, he taps once, twice, completely unbothered. “How do you want to handle this?”
I bite back a scoff. Of course he would expect me to do all the actual work.
“Well, considering I’ve only had sixty seconds to process it,” I say, not bothering to hide my frustration—with anyone else, I would be on my best behavior, but Charlie hasn’t earned my best, “the current procedure is too prescriptive. It sits above every IM standard, so it shouldn’t read like a work instruction. Instead, I’d strip it back. Outline what kind of information is the most valuable, how to identify it, and the critical requirements for managing it. All other details can be captured in the technical procedures.” Which will also need to be updated, but one thing at a time. “I’ll also make it system agnostic so that it’s future-proof.” Especially since everyone here hates the system already.
His response? A smirk. Unbelievable. “Am I supposed to just sit around and look pretty while you do all the work?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I challenge.
He rocks back in his chair, hands on his thighs. “Stellar team ethic you’ve got there.”
The frustration coursing through me is very quickly turning into rage. This is all a game to him. “Like yours is any better.”
Any semblance of the loose, cocky man he was when I entered is slipping away now. His eyes go hard, and I swear a vein in his forehead pulses. “If you don’t want me here?—”
“I don’t.”
I don’t want him getting in the way of what I’ve worked for. I don’t want him anywhere near me.
We’re at an impasse. If this was a simple matter of skill, I’m confident I could beat him. But Charlie’s got the ear of some big players here at Helix, and I’m smart enough to know that popularity counts.
Rather than backing down, he sits forward, jaw rigid, and says, “Then you better take it up with Roberts. I’m a part of this, whether you like me or not. So why don’t you say what it is you want to say before we start?”
“Fine. If you really want to have this conversation, then let’s have it.”