Page 11 of Hard to Forgive

My eyes were drawn to the third man.

He sat in the back cubicle. There was no mistaking that familiar face, one I’d seen contorted with pleasure the night before. Our eyes locked, and I waited for any sign of familiarity. He nodded at me. I wondered if I should go over and sit near him. There was an open cubicle on either side of him.

Before I could make a decision, one of the women clapped her hands.

I tore my eyes away from the man from last night and gave her my attention. Based solely on her outfit—a pair of gray slacks and a pastel yellow button down that looked beautiful against her dark skin—she was our project manager. Interesting. My uncle had said there were only a few female project managers employed by his company.

He assured me it was not for lack of trying, but that was the nature of the field we worked in.

“It seems that everyone is here, so let’s do introductions. Come on over here.”

She motioned for the four sitting around the room to join her in the middle of the room. I sighed and walked over. I wanted to take a place next to the man from the bar, but there was no way to do it without being obvious. Instead, I stood between one of the men that had come up from orientation with me and the lone woman on our team. She offered me a gentle smile and I felt myself relax immediately.

The handsome man from last night seemed infinitely less comfortable a few people away, wedged between the other man from orientation and a tall guy with an overly exuberant smile. I wanted to study him. I wanted to discover the cause of the strange nagging feeling in my brain, the one that said I knew him from somewhere other than The Rusty Nail.

“I’m Yvette Peterson. I’ll be your project manager and team lead for the next three months. I’ve been with Brighton Tech for twelve years, if we count my internship in their Boston office. This means that I have been where you are, and I know a lot of the problems our developers encounter on projects. It also means that I know when you’re bullshitting, so please do not try my patience.”

I liked her already.

“Before we go into the specifics of the project, I’d like each of you to go around and introduce yourself. I’m not going to make you do any kind of fun facts, unless you choose to, but please tell us your name and how long you’ve been with Brighton at the very least.”

She motioned for the man next to her start.

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. “I’m Declan Mansfield. I just started at Brighton last year. I’ve been a part of three projects so far.”

“I’m Logan White,” the man with the broad smile introduced next. “I’ve been with Brighton for five years, and I’ve lost count of the number of projects I’ve worked on.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he nodded to the man next to him.

The man from last night.

My attention was glued on him. I watched as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and drew himself up, squaring his shoulders as if this were some kind of battle. I tried to forget that I knew what he looked like underneath the lavender button down he was wearing. I tried to forget that I knew what his mouth felt like it was wrapped around my dick. I tried to forget that I knew what he sounded like when he came.

“I’m Jonas Koetter.” His voice was different than it’d been the night before. More timid. The name tickled the back of my mind. I missed the length of time he’d worked at my uncle’s company. I missed everything else he’d said.

I was too busy trying to figure out why I knew the name Jonas Koetter. It was unimportant. I probably went to high school with him or something. It wasn’t as if King’s Bay was a particularly large city. There were only two high schools, so the odds were good that I’d simply heard his name there.

I completely missed the next two introductions. I hated mysteries, and Jonas was providing me with one. I wanted answers. Maybe, after we finished these introductions and got an overview of the project, I could sneak online and search him on social media. Maybe it would trigger some memory loose in my mind.

I didn’t realize it was my turn.

Not until Yvette cleared her throat and the woman next to me nudged me. I felt my cheeks warm.Brilliant first impression, I scolded myself. I took a breath and offered what I hoped was a charming smile. “I’m Silas Morgan. I just started this morning, but I’ve worked in tech since graduating MIT a few years ago.”

I felt like I should say more, but no one else had. I only hoped the tidbit about MIT would stick when it inevitably came out who my uncle was.

“Isabel Rocca,” the girl next to me started after a moment. I assumed she was making sure I was finished. That was polite of her. Her voice was quiet though, like it lacked confidence. I remembered the kind smile she’d given me a moment before and gave her one back. She squared her shoulders. “I’ve been here for three years?” She bit her bottom lip and counted on her fingers. “Sorry, it’ll be three years next month. So almost three years.”

Yvette waited for a few moments to be sure that Isabel was done before calling attention back to herself. “First, I’d like to welcome all of you into my team. Mr. Brighton hand selected each of us for this project. For those who have been at Brighton on other projects, your portfolios and reviews influenced his decision. For our new hires, I’m assuming you wowed him ininterviews or with your portfolios or some combination therein. He wanted to get some of the brightest young minds onto this project.”

That explained why Yvette looked to be the oldest, and she only looked to be in her early thirties. What was my uncle having up to?

“We’ll be working on a new dating app,” Yvette explained, answering my mental question like she could read my mind. “I will be sending out the spec doc after we finish our huddle. I expect each of you to read it thoroughly. After you’ve finished, please submit any thoughts or ideas you might have on how to realize the specifications laid out. Have this done before lunch, and as I told Jonas, Isabel, Logan, and Declan, do not feel tied to your desk or feel as if this is a solo project. I’m a firm believer in working as a team, and I encourage you to start that now.”

She clapped her hands again and dismissed us from the huddle.

My eyes found Jonas again. He looked closed off, so different than he’d looked when he’d given his introduction and miles away from how he’d looked the night before in my bedroom. Did he not like the project? I really hoped he wasn’t one of those moralistic bastards who were against dating apps.

I needed to find out.

My eyes locked on the empty desk next to him. That was going to be my desk, I decided.

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