Chapter 8
Bonnie
I check my watch for the tenth time wondering if I can quickly wolf down my turkey and avocado sandwich before my appointment.
It's now eight minutes past my appointment time and I'm still waiting for Will's call.
Out of all the top executives, Ethan’s system is the only one I’m yet to update because he's got some complex voodoo firewall that prevents it from being done remotely.
I want to roll my eyes again. Even we in systems security aren't as anal with our data security as Ethan is. But like many other things about him, we've come to accept he just wants his security set up in a certain way.
Apparently, whatever Zeus wants, he gets.
And I'm supposed to be the drama queen.
After I hounded Will for days, Ethan finally overrode my lunchtime slot, sending me a lovely apology message and a mouth-watering bonus for taking it.
I've since been wondering why he wanted my lunchtime slot. It's not even bookable, but he'd somehow converted it.
I finally figured out it's because the only time he doesn't work is his lunch hour. And that’s when he’s booked the update for. When he wouldn’t be in.
It makes sense to think he's so efficient that he doesn't want to lose a single minute of work, but I can't help the niggling thought that it's because he just doesn't want to see me.
That thought is like a knife to the gut. Do I now repel him on such a personal level that he's happy to send me messages and emails, but we have no physical contact?
I don't raise the issue with anyone for fear they might think I’m crushing on him, like the many other women on and off the tech floor.
And I’m certainly not crushing on him. I just had a momentary lapse in judgment that night.
God, it had felt really good standing close to him, his smell, that look in his eyes…
It's been three weeks. It should be fading from my memory, not getting more intense with each passing day.
My desk phone rings, the sound jarring in my quiet office. It’s flashing blue, so I know it's an internal call. Will.
“Systems security, Bonnie here.”
“Hey, it's Will. Mr. Hawthorne’s just left for lunch if you want to come in now.”
Yep. It's not about the timing, it’s about him not being there.
Even though the appointment was booked for 1 p.m., Will instructed me to wait until he called me.
“Okay. What about the other hardware?”
“I’ll move them right into the office if you’re going to be here soon.”
“Yes, I’m on my way.”
I look at the lunch I was just about to dig into and my mouth waters. Crap. I really wanted to eat that.
I grab the sandwich bag and head to Ethan's office.
Will is at the desk and gives me a big smile when I approach. I enjoy the lust I see in his eyes as they rake over me appreciatively. He’s crushing hard.
I’m wearing a regular black shirt, but my pants are leather. I’ve seen what some of the other women wear, and I'm proud to say I’m even more covered up these days compared to my first few days in, but I might as well be in sexy lingerie with the look in Will's eyes.
I make a mental note to take him up on his blatant interest when I'm really needy. He seems like the type I could work with; He'd be discreet, he'd do as he's told, he wouldn't try to push me around, and would go away quietly until when next he's called on.
Will eyes the lunch in my hand. “Oh, were you about to have lunch when I called you?”
“Never mind, I knew it was a lunchtime appointment, I just thought I could quickly gobble up a sandwich while I wait for all the updates to install and carry out testing since I'll be by myself.”
“Er, Bonnie, I wouldn't take it in there. Why don't you keep your lunch here with me and have it later? I was going to have to have lunch after you’re done here, anyway. Do you want to go together?”
I don’t hear anything beyond the “don’t take it in there.”
“Why? What’s in there?” I ask.
“Mr. Hawthorne doesn’t eat in his office. Ever,” Will reveals.
“Because it's filthy?” A part of me wants Will to say yes, if only so I know that Ethan isn’t as perfect as he seems.
“No.” Will huffs out a laugh. “It’s the furthest thing from that.”
“Well, he can't expect me to starve while he’s booked out my whole hour of lunch, especially on one of my busiest days.” And on the day I happened to skip breakfast to beat the traffic because I'd woken up late. I'd had the Clonmel dream again.
“It’s just a sandwich, not Chinese takeout. I’m not going to be making a mess over his computer.”
I don't even wait for his reply, just move towards the opaque, black, glass doors.
“Bonnie… just," he struggles with the notion for a few moments, then gives up. "Okay. Just put your trash in with the empty boxes, and I’ll sort them as soon as you are done. Didn’t you say that you won't be more than half an hour?”
“Maybe thirty minutes tops, and the rest is just updates.” I wonder what the hell is the matter with Will; he’s positively trembling. Shrugging, I push open the doors.
And pause.
It’s dark, very dark. As soon as I step in, the automatic light brightens the place a bit, but I still have to adjust my vision. I look for the light switch on the wall but don’t find one. A narrow beam of light from the glass windows draws my attention, and I realize that there are blackout blinds covering the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Who uses blackout blinds in a corner office?
A weirdo, that’s who.
I finally find the panel of switches on the wall, and I flick on every single one.
All the lights come on, even as the blinds fully open, and I look around. It’s of similar size and shape to Jordan and Mike’s offices, but that’s where the similarity ends.
I expected a boring space and minimalist decor in basic colors, like its owner basically.
How wrong I was.
It's decorated in black and earthy tones. The floor is black marble with gold veins, and there’s art. So much breathtaking art on two of the four walls.
The large couch in the seating area is a beige velvet with gold cushions, and there’s a thick, Persian rug under the black glass coffee table.
A huge desk dominates the space, which looks like oak but it’s glossy. I realize then that it’s glass, designed to look like wood. I’m drawn to the perfect order on his desk. There’s not a pen out of place, no dust, and not a single fingerprint.
Does he wipe it off every time he leaves? I look around.
This isn’t an office where a normal person works. This is a sheik’s palace of an office. I'm drawn to the intricately curved structure that rises out of the floor in the far corner of the office, like a tree with curving branches, but instead of leaves, there are small photos framed in glass.
I catch a glimpse of one where there are two boys in overalls standing next to their father. The older one is missing his front teeth. I realize with shock it’s Ethan and a laugh bubbles out of me. He has a brother, and a father too.
Somehow seeing this makes him less of the disapproving Olympian god and more of a goofy big brother and son. There’s lots of photos with Jordan, some with Mike. Another with an older blonde woman. His mother, perhaps?
I see Sabrina in one of them, where Ethan is hugging her and kissing her temple. Wow.
Seeing Ethan being this affectionate with my friend makes me feel a certain way that I don’t care to analyze right now.
After examining the photos for another few minutes, I suddenly remember why I came here, and quickly set to work. I drop my lunch on the desk and tear through the packaging of the hardware that Will has stacked neatly by the desk.
In about half an hour, I’m all set. The software updates are almost finished, and I even managed to have my lunch.
Before I leave, I put the empty boxes to the side and throw the plastic and cardboard wrapping of my lunch into the garbage can.
Will’s desk is empty when I come out, and I debate waiting for him, but then, there's really nothing to report; everything went smoothly, and Ethan’s new system is up and running great. I suppose I can always email them both to know it's all done.
I return to my desk and get immersed in troubleshooting some security breaches Jordan picked up yesterday when an urgent alert pops onto my screen.
MY OFFICE. RIGHT NOW!
It’s from Ethan.
Shouty, aren’t we? What crawled into his ass and died?
And how dare he speak to me that way after I slaved for almost an hour getting him properly set up? And to think, out of all the executives, I spent the most time customizing his dashboard for him. What a thankless effort.
Fuming, I storm back up to the top floor to give him a piece of my mind.