Page 39 of Left of the Slash
“Of course I do,” he replies. “I have two best friends that I've known my whole life. My boys, Rob and Marcus, know all about us.”
“See? At least I'm not the only … wait a minute. Rob? You mean Rob Vaughn from work?” Quinn raises his eyebrows as he shrugs so high his shoulders nearly touch his ears. “Are you kidding me? Rob knows about us? Like, in detail?”
“What's the problem?” Quinn jokes with a huge grin on his stupidly beautiful face. “Rob is my best friend. I tell him everything.”
“Wow,” I say, drawing the word out. “You're just going to steal that from me? Word for word, bar for bar?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Indeed.”
Both of us settle into a laugh as I shake my head. “Wow Quinn, you're something else. Something elseindeed.”
“I take that as a compliment,” he says. “Also, you can just call me Q. Only people who don't know me call me Quinn, and it’s safe to say that you're beginning to know me pretty well. So, please. Just Q.”
It’s a simple change, but still enough to make me smile. “Okay. I like that. Just Q.”
“Thank you,” he says, before adding. “Speaking of Rob at work, what about everybody? We've clearly taken this thing between us to a new place, and I assume you don't want anybody knowing about it, right? Well, except Eden and Rob, of course.”
I start to laugh, but force myself to cut it off. “Yeah, I don't want anybody at Obsidian knowing about us. It’s not that I'm ashamed of you or anything. It’s just that I've already been having some serious problems there, before your promotion. It has been hell just trying to navigate the way people perceive me. Thanks to Jon and his bullshit, I'm an ice queen, I'm a whore, I'm incompetent, I'm a nepo baby, and I'm clearly in over my head. Obviously, it sucks having to walk through that blitzkrieg every day, taking on grenades and gunshots, and I'm hoping now that Jon’s gone I can shed all of that. I think people finding out that I'm fucking the newly promoted CISO would be bad for business. I'm enjoying what we’re doing, but I don't want it out there like that, Quinn—I mean, Q. You understand that, right?”
Q’s hands never stop massaging my foot, but his eyes wander. He seems to look everywhere but at me before finally forcing his eyes over.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding slowly. “I understand. You've been through a lot, and I don't want to add to that. So, I won’t take it personally. What we’re doing is nobody else’s business anyway.”
I smile, truly relieved. “Exactly. Well, nobody’s business but Eden’s and Rob’s.”
I laugh at the recycled joke, but Q’s simple chuckle barely raises the side of his mouth as his eyes leave me and find the bed again. His mouth said that he understood, but his eyes are saying something else in a language I don't understand. I watch him take a deep, steadying breath before he's able to look at me again, the muscles in his face having hardened.
“So, now that Jon is out and you've promoted me,” he says, changing the subject. “What’s the next move for Obsidian?”
I ponder whether or not I should make sure he's okay with what I said, but decide against it.
“Well, now that all of the bullshit is being resolved,” I answer. “My next focus is on expansion. We need more clients,preferably bigger ones than what we lost. I have my eye on a few, although I would love it if we could reel in a really big one, but it may require some poaching because they already have cybersecurity with other firms.”
Q shrugs. “I'm not afraid of a little poaching.”
“Good, because I'm not the best at pitching and I may have to choose someone to help me with it. It’s sort of a go big or go home situation, because if we don't bring in a major client soon, I'm not sure how much longer Obsidian can stand on its wobbly legs.”
Q nods like a man accepting a challenge. “Well, whatever you need me for, I'm ready. Just say the word.”
I nod and smile. “Okay. I’ll let you know what we’re doing as soon as I figure it out. But for now, let’s just focus on one thing at a time.”
I grin as Q forces himself to go back to focusing on my foot.
“Right. One thing at a time,” he says.
When he smiles at me, it doesn't have the same vibrancy as it did before. His usual dynamic colors have dulled just from this conversation, and I watch from over the edge of my wine glass as the smile quickly fades away.
EMOTIONALLY IN TUNE
TWENTY-FOUR - Quinn
“Hey, Quinn. Can I get access to the new analysis report spreadsheets you created on the share drive?”
I look away from my computer and find Stephen’s head floating at the top of my doorway. The rest of his body is hidden as he peeks in at me with a weak smile on his face. I know he doesn't want to smile, especially since I moved into his friend’s office first thing this morning, but now that I'm the new CISO, it doesn't matter what he wants to do. He works for me now, so he better get really good at plastering on that fake smile. As petty as it might sound, I won't forget the way he, John, and Nick treated me when I was first promoted into this wing. I won't go after him the way they came after me, but if I sense any attitude, I will have no problem firing his ass, so a fake smile is a great way to start every conversation with me from now on.
I don't even try to hide my disdain when I peer at Stephen. I don't like him. I don't like his beady blue eyes or the way he wears confidence like a cheap cologne, forcing everyone to smell it when they’re near him even though it fucking stinks. I don't like his messy blond hair or the way he wears pink shirts with khaki pants. I'm wearing khaki today too, but it’s a black Polo with khaki brown buttons and stitching to match my khaki pants. Why is it so hard forsome peopleto understand color coordination?
“The password is ObsExec9584,” I reply, cutting my eyes over to him. “Make sure that information doesn't leave this wing.”
