Page 51 of Left of the Slash
“Yeah? That’s dope. I don't mean to get in your business, but what’d you guys talk about? Because I wasn't kidding when I said you seem different.”
“Damn, you're nosy this morning. We talked about a lot of important shit that I needed to get off my chest, and he gave me answers I needed more than I realized. Do you want a typed out transcript of the conversation, too?”
He chuckles softly. “So you're not going to acknowledge that I said you seem different?”
“How so?”
“Man, I don't know. You're just different. Like, more sure of yourself. It’s like you really woke up on the right side of the bed this morning, which is surprising because you're usually emotional and sort of confused after you see Quincy. This is like a whole new Q.”
I shrug with a smirk. “I don't know what you're talking about. But if all of that is true, it’s a good thing, right?”
Rob nods, but for whatever reason, he just can't seem to stop staring at me like I'm a different person wearing a Quinn King mask. I don't know what all the fuss is about. After talking to my father, I didn't change much about myself. All I did was go back to my car and cry about the fact that my dad is never getting out of that fucking prison, and I have to navigate my entire life without him by my side. After the tears dried, my need to run from who I truly am dried up with them. I realized that I was disrespecting both myself and my father by saying I didn't want to be like my dad. Not only that—I was also lying. I’d let the crime he committed sour all of the cool shit he taught me about computers and life, when I should've embraced it all even more. I should've taken what happened to him as an example of what can happen when you're gifted with this much brain power and ambition, but you use it in the wrong way. He told me today that I'm him, only smarter, and I intend to move like it from now on.
There is no dark devil. There is only me.
“Did you say you beat the shit out of a couple of assholes from Olivia’s past?”
I snap away from thoughts about my dad and turn to Rob, who’s gawking at me with wide eyes. “Huh?”
“You said you beat the shit out of a couple of assholes and the date got cut short,” he says. “You got in a fight at Wonderland?”
I smile as the memory comes back to me. “Oh yeah. Thatdidhappen. They had it coming, though.”
“They had it coming?” Rob says, bewildered. “Dude, what has gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” I answer, but I'm suddenly distracted by what sounds like arguing coming from outside of my office. “Do you hear that?”
Rob mutes himself and turns an ear toward the door. “Yeah. Who is that? Nick?”
My body moves before my brain even tries to process what’s happening. I get up, walk around my desk, and step into the hall to find Olivia and Nick standing in front of Eden’s desk. They're clearly engaged in a tense conversation, but Olivia’s face is tight with consternation. Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears, and Nick is pointing his boney little finger at her as his face reddens to the same hue as his Polo shirt. I think to bolt out the door and tackle him, but I'm … smarter. So I lean against my jamb and listen.
“No, Olivia, it’s bullshit that I'm not being allowed to not only lead the pitch, but I'm barred from helping to prep it,” Nick says in a strained, almost sobbing voice. “Why is my experience being ignored? I have no other choice but to believe that it’s favoritism, which makes it discrimination against me, and I'm not afraid to make an HR complaint if that’s what it takes to get what I deserve.”
Olivia stares back at the man who is hellbent on becoming her nemesis, and she looks good doing it, too. She's dressed in a black and white, plaid print blazer with the front open, showing a tight white top underneath that exposes some cleavage but not too much, and form-fitting black pants that accentuate that perfect ass of hers. Her hair falls down her back in classic waves, but having to converse with Nick is fucking up her aura. It’s funny how dealing with men will do that to a woman. She can have everything put together perfectly, and one conversation with a bitch ass man will ruin the entire vibe. It’s a goddamnshame what men put women through, but I'm here to be the fucking antithesis.
“Look,” Nick continues, really feeling himself and unbothered by Eden’s watchful gaze. “Either let me do the EWB pitch, or I'm going to HR. That’s all there is to it. Give me what I want, or I'm complaining.”
Olivia lets out a tired sigh, because I know she is just as exhausted by this way of thinking as I am. We’ve witnessed people with attitudes like this one—with their fake tears and profound sense of entitlement—get what they want through manipulation. I know she wants to call it out, but Olivia feels that she needs Nick. I vehemently disagree, but I won't step on her authority as CEO. She made a decision to keep Jon Reid’s minions, and while I can't fire them, I can certainly dosomething.
There is no dark devil. There is only me.
“Nick, you can't pull this shit just because you're not getting your way,” Olivia says, trying to reason with the unreasonable, but Nick isn't going for it.
“Yes, I can,” he says. “It’s well within my rights to complain about what I perceive to be special treatment toward Quinn.”
“He's the CISO,” she bellows, her annoyance raising her volume.
“I don't care. I’ll complain anyway,” Nick argues.
I take a step out of my office and immediately hear Rob’s voice in my ear.
“Q, don't,” he says, clearly assuming I'm about to get violent.
I look over my shoulder at him and smile. “Relax, Rob. I got this.”
Rob lets out a long sigh, but I ignore him as I step down the hall and come to a stop right next to Olivia and Nick. The latter turns to me and furrows his brow.
“Speak of the goddamn devil,” he says. “What? Are you here to gang up on me?”
