Page 24 of Whistleblower

I glance at Vesper, who seems far more invested in my little speech than I was expecting. Her eyes are on the board, studying my words.

“A job should be entertaining, a team member should feel heard, and a team member should feel safe. Fun. Communication. Safety,” I repeat again.

Finally, I give myself permission to glance Linc’s way. His eyes are down, focused on the little piece of note paper in front of him, and definitely not on me. Stupid little fantasy. It’s ridiculous to even think about a romantic life right now…but the truth is, I’ve been lonely. I just wanted to connect with someone.

“In front of each of you is a piece of paper and a pen. I want us to play a game for some team building. I’m sure you’ve heard of the remote island icebreaker?”

I glance around the table to only see blank stares.

“Really?” I look at Callen who just shrugs unhelpfully, once again. I’m starting to question his purpose at this meeting. “You know…where you’re stranded on a desolate island and you can only bring a few things…for survival…” I trail off as I see more puzzled expressions looking at me.

“That actually happened to me once,” Cricket says. “I was stranded for three days and two nights on a shore in Bermuda with a boat captain when his vessel broke down.”

“Wow,” I reply, just grateful Cricket’s engaging. That’s promising. “That sounds scary.”

“Eh, it was all right. We had some nonperishables on the boat. Plus, time flew by because he had an eight-inch cock. We kept ourselves busy if you know what I mean.”

My jaw drops as snickers fill the room. I’m at a loss for words, but only a little bit about the eight-inch cock part. Mostly it’s because I do not know the workplace appropriate response to that statement, so I completely sidestep it. “Cricket, is that an Irish accent you have?”

“You hear it, love? Dammit. I’ve really been trying to tone it down. Everyone remembers an Irish assassin, that's why I don’t talk much on the job.”

Lance snorts loudly. “Yeah, that’s what they remember, Cricket.” He glances at her cleavage, visible from her low-cut blouse. “Your accent.”

Vesper lets out an exasperated sigh. “Since you’re here, Dr. Abbott—”

“Eden, please”

“My apologies, Eden. Since you’re here, maybe you can shed some light on this situation.” She points between Cricket and Lance. “Please tell these two that, in your ample experience, interoffice relationships are not good for a team and never end well.”

I glance between Cricket and Lance and don’t understand what Vesper is insinuating. I’m usually pretty good at reading people and relationships. Crude humor aside, all I’m sensing is a brother-sistership. But I ask to confirm.

“Are you two...”

“Nah,” Cricket says.

“Nope,” Lance adds. “Everyone thinks we are though.”

It’s because they’re both uncomfortably good-looking. People just assume hot people have sex with other hot people, which is ridiculous because it is quite possible for there to be more depth to people’s attraction than looks.

“He’s gone a few rounds with a couple of women I know though, if you need a reference,” Cricket says winking at me. “Word is Lance knows how to work with a vibrator, instead of competing with it.”

Lance chortles before pointing at Cricket. “My girl.” He then sends a flirty wink my way.

“Okay, you see that?” Vesper says, her brows arched. “Very inappropriate.”

“Jesus,” Callen mumbles under his breath from the other side of the table.

I hold up my palms, trying to calm the chatter. “Listen, I’m not here to police you guys, but if you’re asking my opinion, I strongly advise the companies I work with not to implement no-dating policies, and here’s why…”

I glance to my left and Linc’s piercing stare has returned, sending a glorious shiver up my spine. I pray the heat in my cheeks isn’t visible. Clearing my throat, I reluctantly peel my eyes away from his icy blue gems.

“The moment you make something forbidden, you only make it more enticing. There are very few things people will lie, steal, cheat and…kill for. Love is at the top of that list. I don’t recommend companies try to combat that. In addition, people spend an enormous amount of their waking hours at their day jobs, so how can we expect them not to connect with their coworkers? Now, I’m aware that retaliation after break-ups and even quid pro quo are real problems, but those are case-by-case issues to address, not a mass assumption that should be made. If you treat adults like adults, they’ll behave accordingly.”

I’m met with more blank stares. Sometimes I forget the amount of business expertise I have doesn’t necessarily match my age…or appearance. They are staring at me like I’m a child playing dress up, and yet, I just delivered the presidential inaugural address.

I mentally roll my eyes. Please don’t underestimate me. Yes, I’ve been quiet for a while, but this is my element. This is what I’m good at—people.

“Anyway, back to your papers. I’d like everyone to imagine you’re going to be stranded—indefinitely—on a remote island. I’d like you to write down three things you’d bring along.” I hold up one finger. “Something fun to entertain you.” Then another. “Something that makes you feel safe.” Then, a third. “And someone you’d really like to talk to.”

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