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The Beauty Mark On Her Neck
The industrial district of Ramat Hahayal stretched along Hayarkon park. It was home to large tech companies, ranging from communications to software, and Kisharti’s offices were there in a coworking spaces building. The lobby’s green marble floor nearly blended with the outside verdant expanse of the park. A large black piano stood in the center, breaking the foot traffic into two streams.
This was a brand-new week and he was starting it here, taking the first step to get the position he coveted. He took the elevator to the third floor, where there were two other startups, and followed the arrows to Kisharti.
The unlocked glass door led straight into a large open space entirely populated with young men. He directed his question to the only guy who didn’t wear large headphones.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Menni Bachar.” He was supposed to meet the CEO, Menni, and the other two founders, Gil and Daniel.
“He’s in the meeting room, down the hall and on the right. You’ll get there.”
Kisharti would differ from a listed company, or a more established one. He would need to adjust his requirements but that was perfect, since they represented the type of company he would encounter if he transferred to Tractus. In the ten days that passed since he got this gig from his boss, he’d unofficially met with people from the consultancy, learning the nature of the place. He had serious competition for the position. The other candidates each had a partner backing them. Based on merit and talent, he could get it, but he had no chance at it without Yogev throwing in his weight.
The evenings these past ten days, those that he didn’t have Gal, he’d spent at his brother’s pub hoping Dafna would show up. She never did. He’d asked Eitan whether a beautiful woman with chestnut hair had come asking for him, and his brother shook his head.
He sidestepped a thin woman, who was coming from the other direction, looking preoccupied and tired. She halted. Through the meeting room’s glass wall, he saw three men standing with their backs to the corridor.
“Hi, I’m Erez, and I have a meeting with Menni Bachar.”
“Erez? Are you the investor’s representative?” The woman stared at him as if he’d fallen from the moon. “You have green eyes, Erez. And black hair.” She giggled, a little maniacally. He hoped the founders were less weird. Or wired. “I’m Nurit. Yes, it’s in here.”
She preceded him into the room.
“Here is the investor’s representative, Erez,” Nurit heralded him.
His brain registered a familiar smell. The scent of warm lavender, a summer night in Provence. Was he so messed up that he was imagining her smell now? The wall of men parted and revealed a woman with chestnut hair and beautiful gray-brown eyes. Dafna Ohayon.
He froze. He couldn’t stop staring at her. She had permeated his nights for the past ten days, and some of his waking hours as well. Her nostrils flared, her eyes opened wide, and her fists clenched. She opened her mouth then quickly closed it.
“Hello, I’m Menni Bachar.” One of the three men, the tall, blond one, spoke, his eyes darting between him and Dafna. “Are you okay, Dafna? Do you know him?”
Delicate neck with the beauty mark that tasted salty when he licked it. Juicy lower lip that he sucked and kissed. Lust curled in his abdomen, threatening to turn this moment even more awkward. He tore his stare away, latching onto the enormous clock on the wall above her head, whose orange and green hands matched the waist level orange waves painted along the meeting room’s wall.
“No,” Dafna said. “I thought I knew him for a second, but he just looks like someone.” There was a warning in her voice, in her arched brows. “I was mistaken.”
“You’re probably still tired Dafna,” one of the three men said. He had a head of curly hair, and a friendly smile, a soft note to his voice. “You've had a rough week.”
That was why she didn’t show up in the pub, was his first giddy thought, before he chided himself for his selfishness. He almost asked her what kind of rough week it was, then stopped before he tripped them both. They couldn’t admit they knew each other, still less that they slept together. If their hook-up was found out, his due diligence would be contaminated.
“Yes, but now she’s here,” said Menni. Fair and very handsome, his smile never reached his eyes. “Let’s start the meeting.”
Erez chose to sit at the head of the table, wanting a clear view of the three founders who sat next to each other, and of Dafna and the other woman, Nurit, who sat across from them.
“I’m Menni. I’m the founder of Kisharti and its CEO. These are my co- founders, Gil, our chief technology officer,” he pointed to a sallow, serious man, “and Daniel, who’s in charge of Marketing and Costumer Success.” The curly haired man nodded at Erez. “Dafna is our VP of Human Resources and welfare person. Nurit does our bookkeeping.”
Erez nodded, acknowledging all the people in the room. His insides were in turmoil, and he could barely keep a straight face. He needed this gig, or his chances at his dream job were slim.
“We’re in a very hot field, we do CPQ. Our product is like a wizard for our clients, helping them easily create perfect, personalized offers for their customers, ensuring the right products are chosen, accurately priced, and presented beautifully, so they can close deals faster and make customers happy. We add new clients all the time,” Menni was saying. “We think we can become as big as Monday.com.” Then he launched into more of his sales pitch.
The CEO was very fond of the sound of his own voice.
Erez zoned out. He didn’t think he needed to understand the product or the markets. He was here for due diligence, not checking an investment opportunity. And he needed the time to calm down. Could he really perform an honest due diligence, his accountant’s consciousness asked. He had been involved with a woman who worked in a company that he needed to be impartial about.
He risked a glance at Dafna. Her cheeks were glowing brightly. She lifted her eyes and met his stare, and he thought of a light summer blanket slipping from her shoulders, the feel of her hard nipple in his mouth. Heat climbed up from his throat, a blush that painted his cheeks as bright a red as hers. Nurit’s eyes kept moving between him and Dafna, and he wondered what she knew, or thought she knew.
“Now that you know everything about us, how about telling us a little about yourself?” Menni smiled at him.
He was silent. There was a clear conflict of interest. Dafna, as part of Kisharti’s management, stood to benefit from the investment. If the investor found out that they slept together, he would doubt his due diligence report, and it would hurt their chances of getting his money. It could hurt him as well. He was an esteemed accountant and this could tarnish his reputation. He needed to back away from this.
