She was quieter than she would be. Or she didn’t look at me as much—or in the same way. Or, fuck, maybe it was all just my imagination.
We talked about other stuff as I drove us and the dog to work. At least we had the work day to occupy us so I wouldn’t obsess over what I’d say to her when we addressed this subject again.
My mind was soon tied up in other things.
Word got out quickly that we were back from vacation early. I received a text from Jordan that he wanted to see me in his office as soon as possible. I showed up at the inner atrium area where the executive officers and directors had their fancy offices. His assistant wasn’t at her desk, so I knocked on his door.
Jordan whipped it open but didn’t wave me inside. “We’re going next door.”
My eyes immediately darted toward Adam’s office. “You didn’t say anything about meeting with Adam.”
I was dressed ordinarily for work. Jeans and a concert t-shirt for an obscure band that had broken up a decade ago. I smoothed my hands over it, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Not how I wanted to appear to the big boss who had yet to decide if I’d get the coveted job.
Jordan grabbed my shoulder to usher me toward the CEO’s office. “It will be fine. Just go.”
“If he says something about how I’m dressed, I’m kicking your ass at an arm-wrestling match in front of your girlfriend. Then I’m pouring ice cold beer down your shorts,” I ground out.
“Fine by me. April doesn’t keep me around for the biceps, if you know what I mean.” He winked obnoxiously. Without knocking, he whipped Adam’s office door open.
I gritted my teeth and darted him a sharp look as I moved past him to enter the office. “Everybody always knows what you mean, Jordan.”
Adam was finishing up a phone call as we entered but did not appear surprised or shocked that Jordan had barged in like that. In fact, he was acting like Jordan did it every day.
Adam turned toward the window, finished the call and then stuffed his phone into his pocket. To my relief, he was also dressed casually today, jeans and a collared golf shirt.
“So, Lucas, how are you? You look like you need some coffee.”
I ran a hand through my hair self-consciously and tried hard to ignore Jordan’s snicker at my side. I’d get him back later—even if it meant plastic-wrap over the urinal in his personal office. I’d resort to frat house tricks if I had to.
“I’m okay.” When my voice cracked, I cleared it and said. “I’m doing fine. Just had a late night.”
Adam smiled. “That new wife of yours keeping you up too late?”
That was the case, yes, but not in the way Adam was implying, unfortunately. No, I’d been obsessing all night about how I was going to get us out of this situation unscathed and without breaking her heart.
All solutions had pointed toward impossible.
Nevertheless, I began to fumble over an appropriate reply. Both Adam and Jordan met gazes and started laughing. “It’s all good, Lucas. I was just giving you a little shit.” Adam grinned.
Hopefully this wasn’t the shit appetizer to a shit serving of some bad news. I cleared my throat and fidgeted in place while Adam appeared to scrutinize me.
“So next Thursday is the quarterly Board of Directors meeting…”
I nodded.
“I’d like for you and Jeremy to present your vision statements and slides to them.”
“Which means wear a suit that day,” Jordan cut in unhelpfully.
“Okay, I can do that. Is there a timeline, um,…” I hesitated to ask the question outright.
Adam grinned. “Well, just between the three of us, and I’m asking you in strictest confidence not to say anything, but the officers have agreed on your vision and designs. The board wants to see the top two contenders to make their recommendation, too. Jeremy has some good news coming his way, though not the news he’d anticipated about this job. But keep quiet on that, too. I’m going to speak to him about it shortly.”
I shook my head, not understanding. “You mean…”
“You got the job, padawan—” Jordan said.
“—Pending the board’s approval, if the meeting goes well. Yes, you’ve got it. You’ll be the new director of Draco VR,” Adam concurred.
A rush of… something raced through me even before I consciously registered his words. Victory? Disbelief? Relief or heady thrill?
Some or all of the above mixed into one intoxicating concoction.