Page 40 of Left of the Slash
“You got it,boss,” he replies, with a little too much emphasis on the last word, but his floating head quickly slides out of view before I can stare him down or say anything else. Jon may be gone, but his spirit is still floating through the executive wing like a goddamn poltergeist.
I stare at the doorway as if he may reappear, hoping I’ll get my chance to reprimand him now instead of later, but he never returns. I do, however, catch a glimpse of Olivia sauntering past my door without as much as a glance into my office. It’s the fourth or fifth time I've seen her, and out of all those times, we haven't made eye contact once. She looks incredible as usual, in a sleek and sexy business casual two-piece set consisting of black pants and a black and white top, with her hair pinned up. Effortless beauty today, like every day, which makes my stomach tighten at the sight of her. I'm doing my best to fight it, but deep down, I know I'm lying to myself when I say I don't feel anything when she silently floats by me like the spirit of a dead loved one.
We had sex in her basement, also known as her playhouse, two nights ago, and I can honestly say I've never experienced anything like it in my life. The flogger, the sound of the tails crashing against her skin like waves on a beach, the moans and whimpers she let out from each hit, the way she came for me, theway I came for her—all of it. My mind can't move on from the experience. I fell in love in that basement—not with Olivia, but with the lifestyle she’d told me about after dinner. With BDSM. I've never felt so aligned with my darkness than I did when she was tied to that cross. It was like there was no dark devil anymore. There was only me—the dark devil and Quinn merged into one, fully accepted by the submissive in the restraints. I crave it now. I need it back. If I feel this way, how could she possibly walk past my office without feeling anything at all?
Even after telling me everything before we descended into the basement, I still don't know how she does it. She made me aware of how she felt the night she went to the BDSM club in Philly and discovered herself, and I know she's married to her career and becoming the woman Diego wanted her to be, but the things we’ve done were groundbreaking for me. Earthshattering. She's the experienced one in this lifestyle, but feeling nothing at all is insane. All I can think about is our scene together and when the next one will be. My eyes light up like fireworks when I see her. I can feel the way I'm staring, hoping she gives me a single glance to let me know she's thinking about it, too. But there is nothing. I'm trying to be more like her, but this part is so much harder. How do I learn to be with her so intimately and then completely sever the connection the second it’s over?
Her words keep coming back to me over and over again, and the more I hear them in my mind, the more I realize that I should've fucking listened.
You have a lot to learn.
My computer chimes with a notification of a scheduled meeting set to take place in five minutes, and I have to exhale, blowing out my thoughts of Olivia while knowing I'm about to see her anyway. I get up from my desk and straighten out my shirt, still trying to look good even though I know it will go unnoticed, and I make my way around the desk to head forthe conference room. I see Eden on my way. She flashes a red-lipped smile, reminding me that she knows more about my sex life than anyone else in this building who isn't Olivia. I smile back, taking note of the way both of them are able to keep it professional when I want nothing more than to act like a fucking deviant. Then, I'm in the conference room once again. Stephen and Nick come in right after me, as does Eden, and I take my seat at the right hand of the head of the table—the seat formerly occupied by Obsidian’s traitor. There used to be conversation before Olivia walked in to take command of the room, but now that Jon is gone, there is only silence. I'm sure Nick and Stephen had plenty to say to each other before they came in, but they sit across from me now with zipped lips and narrow eyes that look everywhere but at me.
That’s fine. Fuck you, too.
Olivia’s entrance still makes everyone sit up straighter. Now that she's here, it’s time to get to business. She makes her way to the front of the room and begins logging into the computer that will display on the wall for all of us to see. We watch in silence as she navigates through a few pages before settling on one for a bank. Then, she finds a man’s bio and leaves it up on the big screen before taking her seat at the head of the table.
“Good afternoon,” she begins. “The man up on the screen right now is Joel Epson. He is the CEO of East-World Bank. If you haven't heard of East-World Bank, you clearly live under a rock because they are the largest bank in Delaware, with ties to other financial institutions spanning all over the east coast. Mr. Epson himself is worth nearly a billion dollars, and he is a huge political donor as well. He and East-World Bank are what I consider gargantuan. After looking over all of the research each of you performed over the last two days, hunting for our newest addition to the Obsidian family clientele, this is where I've landed. This one acquisition would breathe new life into thiscompany, the likes of which we haven't ever seen before. With this one addition, we would more than double our net worth and create a portfolio that would rival cybersecurity companies much larger than ours. This would put us in the big leagues, people. So, I need everyone to put their heads together and dive into research mode, because in five days, we are going to pitch to Mr. Joel Epson himself.”
I listen to Olivia without thoughts of my own. I don't know anything about Joel Epson, but I see the faces of Stephen and Nick twisting into confusion and disgust like they always do. Stephen raises his hand like a kid in class and waits for Olivia to point at him like the teacher.
“While I understand the ambition here,” he begins. “Isn’t East-World Bank already in contract with Palo Alto?”
Olivia sighs as she nods. “Yes. East-World is already contracted to Palo Alto Networks, but that contract is coming to an end next quarter, so we need to convince them to switch to us. We have a small window of opportunity here, so we’re going to take it.”
Nick leans forward in his seat, feeding off of Stephen’s funky confidence. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't they been working with Palo Alto for years? Better yet, decades?”
Olivia nods again, this one accompanied by a tightened jaw brought on by a strong case of exasperation.
“Yes,” she snips. “While I'm glad to see that you both already know about East-World Bank, I need you to have some optimism. Everything changes if we’re able to bring them in.”
“I know about them because I researched them already,” Nick says. “The second I saw that they were with Palo Alto, a company with three times the clientele that Obsidian has, I scratched them off my list so fast I nearly broke my pencil. They're clearly chained to PA. Why waste time with a pitch that we know won't work?”
“Because we have to have a massive gain, or Obsidian won't survive the next two years,” Olivia says, blurting it out like a secret she couldn't keep to herself any longer. She sighs and looks around the room. “That’s all we have based on my analysis. I know you all think I don't know shit about cybersecurity, and maybe you're right, but you also know that I worked in finance before taking over as CEO here. I've looked over all of our reports and data, and if we don't make a massive, long-term change, this company’s doors will close in twenty-three months. My father's desire to keep Obsidian small, combined with Jon’s sabotage costing us a fistful of clients, has created a cancer that is slowly going to kill us if we don't do something serious. East-World Bank and Joel Epson are our chemo. While you think it may not work or the idea of pitching to them makes you sick, our death is imminent without it.”
“And what if it doesn't work?” Stephen asks, frowning hard now that he knows Obsidian is on its last legs.
“Then we’re fucked,” Olivia replies harshly. “All of the other big clients we could bring aboard are locked into contracts that are years long. East-World is the only one with an expiring contract, and from what I understand, they haven't begun extension or renegotiation talks with Palo Alto. So, this is our one shot. If we miss, we die. That’s it.”
“What the hell could we offer them that they don't already have with a bigger company?” Nick says, rubbing his chin.
“I don't know yet,” Olivia responds. “That’s for us to figure out when we do the pitch?”
“Whenwhodoes the pitch?” Nick asks.
Olivia hesitates a second, then her eyes shift over to me for the first time today, finally seeing me. “Quinn and I will pitch to Mr. Epson.”
After all of that flowing conversation, silence suddenly engulfs the room. Usually, this is where all eyes would turn to me and Iwould be forced to lean back in my seat as if trying to dodge their evil glares, but it doesn't happen that way this time. Stephen and Nick glance at each other, then they look in opposite directions—Stephen's eyes move up to the ceiling while Nick’s drop down to the table. Olivia's eyes, on the other hand, don't linger on me a second longer than they have to.
“Q—I mean Quinn, is the chief information security officer of this company,” Olivia says as a reminder to everyone listening, but the misstep on my name makes everyone’s eyes snap over to her. “He was promoted into this position for a reason, and I will lean on his expertise—”
“Lean on his expertise?” Nick cuts in without any regard to Olivia’s position as CEO. He fires a sharp glance across the table at me like a dart. “Have you ever pitched before?”
I shake my head as darkness quickly fills the corners of my vision. “No.”
He wastes no time going back to Olivia, his face tight with ferocity. “He doesn't have any pitching expertise. Jon and I used to do pitches together, so when it comes to expertise, I’m the only one in this room who has it. I should be doing this pitch.”
“You don't even believe we can pull them away from Palo Alto,” Olivia fires back. “I need someone who actually thinks we can do this, and for what it’s worth, you're still under investigation, Nick, so I don't give a damn about what you used to do with Jon. Until the internal investigation is over, you're on wafer thin ice with me. I donottrust you. I do, however, trust the man who saved us from Jon’s sneaky, sabotaging ass. So, pout about it all you want, but you're not pitching to East-World Bank. Quinn is.”
