Page 11 of Work with Me

“Morning, Jackson.” I set down my mug and crossed my arms.

“Morning,” he muttered.

My stomach curled into itself. I hadn’t felt this way since middle school, when I’d gathered up every scrap of courage I could find to ask my crush, Ian Cameron, to the Sadie Hawkins dance, and he’d turned me down flat in front of the entire math class, saying he didn’t date nerds.

Apparently, Jackson Jones ascribed to the same philosophy.

Checking that we were still alone in the kitchen, I jutted out my chin. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you out again. If I’d known who you were when we met, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

I stood there, arms crossed, waiting for him to apologize for not telling me then that he was Synergy’s cofounder. Or to say anything.

He tipped his chin at the counter behind me. “Mind if I—?”

I closed my eyes, wishing I could make myself invisible. I scooted away from the coffee machine. “Go ahead.”

My cheeks tingled with heat. Fine. I was glad he’d turned me down. And I was glad he was acting like a jerk now. I’d remember this moment instead of staring at those kissable lips. No! They weren’t kissable. They were just lips, slightly pouty at the corners. Used for talking. And frowning. I wouldn’t be going anywhere near them.

I smoothed the wrinkles out of my skirt. “See you at the stand-up. Eight-thirty sharp.”

“We always did them at nine. A little more humane, don’t you think?”

I gave him a simpering smile. “But far less productive.” I turned toward the door.

“Alicia.”

I froze. People called me that all day. Why did I turn to jelly only when he said it?

“You forgot your…your tea?” He held it out to me, wrinkling his nose.

“Thank you.” I snatched the cup and strode out.

The entire floor was open, and a line of potted trees separated our collaboration space from the rest of the office. Wide windows provided natural light. Three long, two-person desks arrayed with large monitors were arranged in a square with one side open.

Four of the seats were occupied. I tested myself on their names: Amit and Gary, the two senior developers; Kevin, the funny one; and Tyler, the junior developer. They faced the center of the open rectangle, which held a grouping of colorful, squashy pouf chairs. But we wouldn’t have time to laze around in them. Much more useful was the whiteboard wall striped with swimlanes. My fingers itched for a pad of sticky notes.

“Morning, everyone.” I set my bags on the empty center table. After turning my phone to vibrate, I tossed it into my purse and set it in the drawer. I pulled out my Synergy-issued laptop and connected it to the docking station. Tyler, to my left, peered around the side of my large monitor.

“That’s it?” he said. “No knick-knacks? No pictures?” He gestured at his own workspace, where a collection of Star Wars figurines surrounded the base of his monitor.

“No.” I’d learned long ago not to put pictures of Noah on my desk. Women with families got passed over. Only women who hid their life outside work ever got ahead in tech.

“So no kids?” Tyler swigged from a can of Mountain Dew.

I grimaced. “I do enough babysitting at work.”

Tyler laughed. So did Kevin, who sat on the other side of him.

Jackson, who’d come around the corner, didn’t. He stilled, his face a mask. Then he stalked around us to the seat on my other side. He didn’t sit, and his knuckles whitened around his mug.

Shit, did he think I’d meant he needed a babysitter? It was only a joke, but now I wished I hadn’t said it.

Jackson cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t we start the stand-up, boss? Eight-thirty. Sharp.”

The back of my neck burned like I was standing on asphalt at noon. But I’d never let him see he’d pricked me. “Absolutely.”

I stood and circled the desks to the whiteboard, where the guys joined me. Good; I was glad that was one practice I didn’t have to introduce.

Cooper emerged from the nearby stairwell, clutching a green smoothie. I didn’t miss the way he scanned our group clustered around the whiteboard. Glad we’d started on time, I nodded at him. He returned my nod and lifted his smoothie to Jackson at the other end of the line. It seemed they’d made up. Good for them.

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