“I mean, maybe he really wants that extra PTO day,” Morgan responded, feeling uncomfortable.
Hayley snorted. “I don’t know why, they aren’t going to be worth anything by July 1.”
That caught Morgan’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“We’re going to unlimited PTO next fiscal year,” Hayley said, waving her drink vaguely. “It lets us carry less on the balance sheet. Investors like that.”
That dick. He had everyone competing for something that was about to be worthless? She felt a lot less guilty.
She handed Hayley her seltzer. “You should really drink this.”
“Awww, that’s sooooo sweet!”
Brad leaned down to grab the next biscuit. She tried to get Luke’s eye, but he avoided looking at her. She bit her lip, mortified. If Hayley had been right and it had been mutual, it just would have been inappropriate for the workplace.But it wasn’t mutual: why would someone like Luke even want her? He was gorgeous and magically gifted, and maybe he wasn’t great at his own job, but he was amazing at hers. The only reason he would even be interested in someone as drab as her was because he felt like he had to because he owed her. She knew what she would have thought if a dude kept making his interest clear to a female coworker who wasn’t interested, let alone a guy with power over her. She hadn’t acted on it, though—what was she supposed to do? Keep better control of her thoughts, clearly.
“How’s it going?” she whispered to Luke as Brad slid his biscuit sharply into the middle of the developers’ cluster, knocking one out. He pumped his fists in victory. It wasn’t going to be enough, she suspected, given Hayley’s dismal performance. And her own fairly lackluster aim.
“I’ve got the name. All we have to do is get Ravenfell on board to make all his dreams come true. They turned him down, but I figure if I have a mysterious uncle or something and can get him a second pitch session, then after I’ve established trust, I can let him in on the opportunity and promise him a Deal to get a yes from Ravenfell.”
“That’s awesome,” she said, feeling embarrassed. He’d actually gotten somewhere on solving their problem, while she was too busy worrying about PTO and promotions and if Luke would ever be able to look her in the eye again after realizing she thought he was hot. The name Ravenfell caught her attention, though. There was a reason she’d heard of them.
Brad prodded her out, and she tried her best to line up a shot. Her biscuit made it across the line but stopped barely short of the top triangle.
Justin/Josh poked Josh/Justin with the tang, and Josh/Justin whipped his up to deflect it. He parried, the other developer dancing back. The sticks clacked against each other, their use as fencing weapons somewhat diminished by the prongs at the end that kept getting tangled.
“Gentlemen,” pleaded the equipment manager as the two developers battled up the steps toward the bar. Morgan ducked as a tang whistled overhead.
“I know something you don’t know,” quoted one.
“Dude, you are too left-handed,” the other said, lunging just as the equipment manager rushed up to stop them. The first raised his hand and his friend whacked him hard in the arm.
“Ahh! Dude! Fuck!” He dropped his stick, clutching his arm.
“Do you need medical attention?” the equipment manager said, horrified.
“Eh, walk it off,” Brad said. “Ronaldo, it’s your turn.”
“I think I need to go to the hospital,” the developer said, looking down at his arm.
“Fine,” Brad said, waving his hand. “Ronaldo, you go twice.”
“I’m going to take him to the hospital,” said the other developer. “Sorry, bro.”
“It’s OK, bro.”
“Fine,” Brad rolled his eyes.
“Is this, like, workerscomp?” the other developer asked, fumbling out his phone to summon a car.
“Uh.” Hayley looked like a deer in the headlights.
“You’ll be fine,” Brad said, which did not answer the question. In a lower voice, he said to Hayley, “They all signed waivers.” He raised his voice again. “Vijay, you go twice, too.”
Ronaldo lined up his shot.
Morgan gave a worried glance at Justin/Josh and Josh/Justin. Should she help? She wasn’t a healer, although she’d picked up some first aid helping clean up her mother over the years. Broken bones were beyond first aid. They were waving off other colleagues as they headed toward the door. Instead, she pulled up her phone to look up Ravenfell. There was a sleek website with almost nothing on it, although she suspected that was not unusual for venture capitalists—good VCs would not have to advertise, or be particularly interested in SEO-driven randos begging for cash. There weren’t even photos of the investors themselves, which felt odd but maybe was privacy-driven. The names were bland but also faintly familiar. On impulse, she plugged them into LinkedIn. Oh no.
“Hey, what’s everyone’s next round of drinks?” she asked with forced cheer. “Luke, come give me a hand carrying stuff.”
