Page 20 of Brooklynaire
“Hey, Stewie.” She raps on the CFO’s desk with her knuckles. “If you still want those presentations printed up in color for Tuesday, I’ll need the file by noon onMonday.”
The young corporate officer winces. “Right. Sorry. You’ll have them over theweekend.”
“No problem, honeybunch.” She gives him a wink and moves on, reminding the code monkeys to shut out the lights if they work late, and to put their Red Bull cans in the recyclingbin.
As the day draws to its end, there is only one more employee left to bemanaged.
Rebecca marches into Nate’s office unannounced, as usual. He is hunched over an ergonomic keyboard she’s found to relieve pain in his hands. He sits in front of the largest computer monitor sold in stores. Business is booming, and KTech software runs on more than half the mobile devices in North America. In two years, Nate will roll out the first KTech phone, catapulting the company’s reach into hardware as well assoftware.
But first, a few sharp words for ourhero.
Nate stares at the code on his computer screen, his full mouth pulled into a contemplative frown. Rebecca has long ago packed away her inconvenient crush on him. These days when she squints at Nate, it is only to try to gauge her odds of getting his attention. “Yo, bossman,” she says now as an openinggambit.
He grunts. That’s a good sign. The man has selective hearing when he’s really deep inside his ownhead.
“Youwillcall the CEO of ArtComm back on Monday,” she announces. “I need you to stay on top of your calls for the next two months. Otherwise my life will be hell during yourhoneymoon.”
“We can’t have that.” Nate looks up from his computer monitor. Then he pushes back his chair and puts his feet up on his new desk, which Rebecca chose for him during the renovation. “How long am I going to beaway?”
“Ten days, accounting for travel. And we’re not scheduling anything on your first day back, so you can catchup.”
Hewinces.
“It’s over Labor Day, though. The timing isperfect.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He cracks his knuckles. Nate is a certified workaholic. Her emails from him come at all hours of the night. She isn’t expected to answer them until morning, of course. But the man’s big brain never seems to power down. “What’s next on myschedule?”
“The weekend? Rememberthose?”
He looksblank.
“Your personal calendar says something likedinner withBart.”
“Does it really?” He makes a face like a little boy who doesn’t want to eat hisbroccoli.
“I’m pretty sure,” Rebecca hedges. Dinner with Bart isn’t her problem. Nate handles his own social stuff. Or Juliet does, maybe. “Who’s Bart,anyway?”
“Some friend of Juliet’s from her new gym. A jock who never shuts up about nutrition and hiscompetitive edge. But Juliet is a CrossFit disciple now, so she finds it more interesting than Ido.”
“Oh.” Rebecca bites her tongue, because it isn’t her place to weigh in on the boss’s social life. And also because she doesn’t ever want her opinion of Juliet to slip out of hermouth.
Becca has never liked Nate’s college sweetheart, but she’s always had trouble putting a finger on why. Juliet is nice enough to Rebecca. It’s just that they have nothing in common. Case in point—Juliet has lately become obsessed with the gym. A while ago, for the sake of her wedding photos, Nate’s fiancée began working out like an Olympic hopeful. She’s shed twenty pounds and began tanning,too.
In contrast, Rebecca’s idea of exercising is walking to meet her friends for drinks, instead of hailing a cab. And Rebecca has secretly begun to regard Juliet as a traitor to the curvy sisterhood. The girl in Nate’s desk photos has a round face and a silly grin. But the lithe monster who lately turns up for dinner dates looks like the newest member of the Swedish volleyball team—all blond highlights and midriff-baringconfidence.
It’s really hard not to hate the future Mrs. Kattenberger onsight.
“Maybe I’ll leave early,” Nate says suddenly, rising to hisfeet.
“Early?” Rebecca gasps, clutching her chest in mock astonishment. “That’s possible? How does it work,exactly?”
He smirks, flashing those dimples. It shouldn’t look good on a man, but Nate isn’t like other people. “I’m starving. And I need a beer. Maybe I can get Juliet to get a couple drinks with me before dinner. And appetizers. Bart is the kind of tool who will make us eat at a veganrestaurant.”
Nate and Rebecca both shudder at the sametime.
“…AndI don’t think he drinks.” Nate stuffs his keys and his phone into hispockets.
“Lager, sir, is regal,” Rebecca quips. It’s a popular palindrome around theoffice.
