Page 5 of The Refusal

This feels far too like a teacher peering over my shoulder, when I would draw diagrams rather than do English assignments. I failed every inspection. I resist the urge to rip the paper from the pad and throw it across the room, and instead smooth my hand over the map.

“Well, some determine types of protection at each node and every network layer, based on a grading system that we developed. The colors denote certain security levels too …” I trail off.

“It’s good,” he says.

Ishe being sarcastic? My head snaps back around to meet his eyes, but his gaze roams warm over mine. The grip of his fingers on my chair tilts it slightly toward him. Janus Phillips thinks my diagram is good?Be still, my heart.

“Thanks.” I swallow hard, light-headed. This is officially the most surreal conversation of my life. “I can’t get my head around stuff unless I have a map. I don’t go anywhere without my colored markers.” I try to smile as I tap the pens sitting at my elbow. “Definitely a bit low tech but … “

“I’m a great fan of paper.” He gives me the full-wattage grin again, the one that makes my insides churn like I’m on a roller coaster. I take in his even white teeth, lashes thick around dancing eyes. “I’ve tried for ages to build up a clear picture of our systems, and this”—he taps the pad in front of me—”does it simply, and you just produced it in three hours of talking to us.”

I frown a little, not quite so ready to accept my little diagram is remotely up to scratch or accurate. “Well … of course, it won’t betotallycorrect …”

“I bet it’s 80–90 percent right.” He scans over the paper, body tilting forward, torso brushing my shoulder, and I can’t move because, if I did, I’d rub up against him. He smells of soap and Downy and warm male. His hand is right there, and I’m mesmerized by his high-tech watch, the slight ridges on his nails, the jut of his thumb. The way his hand flexes on the paper. My breath pushes at my ribs like water. Is the touching deliberate?

He taps the map. “This one here. Hong Kong. I think that isn’t quite right, but I’m not sure we’ve got the full picture to tell you exactly what the situation is there. The office is new, recently set up but growing fast.” He turns his head and his face is inches from mine. “You might need to talk to people on the ground for that one. Travel out there.”

I’m so breathless all I can do is nod and grin like an idiot. He must think I’m a nutcase. I can see where he missed a bit shaving this morning. Someone coughs, and he straightens, striding back to his place at the table and looking around the expectant faces. I sit there, feeling hollowed out, like someone cut the cords that were tethering me to the room. He nods at the table, avoiding my gaze.

“Okay, everyone! Have we done enough for now?” he says.

Janus has finished so the meeting is over, over, over. I blink as people start to move, snapping notebooks shut, clicking laptops closed. I shoot to my feet, gathering my stuff and packing my bag like I’m on autopilot. Janus gives me a nod as everyone drifts toward the door.

“Thanks, Jo. Can you scan and email the team that map?” he says.

“Yes, and I’ll send you a plan to sort the immediate problems quickly and then start on some of the other weaknesses.”

“Matt’s in charge of that, so forward it to him. Can you start on this tomorrow?” He glances at his wrist and his lips do a half quirk. “Today even?”

I nod, almost plopping back down in my chair. “I’ll need an upfront payment, so we can pull resources onto it fast.” I hold my breath.

“No problem.” Janus’s gaze flicks to Matt. “Make it happen,” he says and then strides from the room, pulling his phone out of his pocket. I can’t help a quick glance at his backside. It’s as delicious as the rest of him.

* * *

When I shake everyone’s hand at the elevator, I’m still reeling from the speed of the decision making. But internally I’m cartwheeling all over his fancy office space. Janus Industries security! Holy moly! I’m bouncing on my toes with the idea that I have landed this job, and, fingers crossed,enough money to cover payroll.

As my eyes scan the desks, Janus appears in the walkway, head down, engrossed in something on his phone. The back of my neck prickles as a hot sweat starts on my chest. I focus down on my phone trying to appear busy and not at all bowled over, or worse, gawking at him as every woman must do. I’m scrolling through Slack, not even reading, when sneakers appear on the gray carpet by my feet, and my eyes travel up his body to find him looking at me with that lopsided grin on his face.

“We meet at the elevator twice in one day,” he says, sliding his phone in his back pocket and pulling his shirt tight across his chest. He rubs his hands together. “What are you doing now? Fancy grabbing a coffee and a sandwich? I’m starved, and the opportunity to chat about software would be cool. I’m always surrounded by marketing people.” He scans my clothes and makes a mock grumpy face.

I’m taken aback by his overt friendliness. He wants to talk tech with me?Janus Phillipsis askingme? Surely he doesn’t have the time. I’ve never met someone who’s actually appeared on gossip sites, and on the heels of this thought comes another: his reputation is terrible. Even Bob was aware of it. Would people misread me leaving with him? I survey the wide-open space, but it appears deserted. Unfortunately, he’s too sharp not to notice what I’ve done, and he leans in and raises an eyebrow.

“Scared, Jo? Tut, tut.” He looks me up and down. “Where’s the rebel I saw on the way up here? The woman with the smart mouth and smart clothes who tries to confuse the hell out of poor unsuspecting chief execs? Making them think she belongs in marketing maybe?” He tilts his head and is outright grinning at me now. My face goes hot, and as I open my mouth, the elevator pings and I suck in a breath: saved by the bell.

Shooting through the opening door, I roll my eyes at him. “I have a reputation to protect you know,” I say, “unlike you. I can’t just be seen heading out for a sandwich with the biggest wolf in the business.” For effect, I lean out of the door doing an exaggerated check around, then turn around and quirk my lips at him.

He bursts out laughing, leaning forward to press the button for the lobby, and the doors grind closed behind me.

“If that’s my reputation, then I’m keen to protect that,” he says, as he fiddles with a silver ring on his finger. “Wolf, eh? Who knows what kind of interesting women a reputation like that might cause me to run into?” He raises an eyebrow. If he gets any cuter, I think I’ll spontaneously combust. I’m not surprised models are falling all over his smart mouth and crazy hair.

“I wouldn’t exactly class you as a poor unsuspecting chief exec.” I screw up my nose as his eyes scan my hair, my face. He gives a little head shake.

“Well, you certainly managed to pull one over on me in the elevator. I don’t forget things like that or take them lightly, so you’ll need to watch out for me getting my own back.”

“Is this invitation for a sandwich one of those times?” I fake a concerned frown. “Should I be worried? Are you going to put laxative in my coffee?”

“You mean the invite you’ve not yet accepted, that’s causing me untold amounts of stress because I’ve asked a girl out for the first time in a long-ass time, and she’s not said yes?”

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