A few other voices call out shouts of agreement.
Nathaniel runs a hand through his hair, looking sheepish. “The team has been logging a lot of hours. Just assume we haven’t seen anything sinceAvengers: Endgame.”
A silence falls over the group. Febin sniffs. “I’m still not okay.”
“Yeesh. They seem overworked and miserable,” I say as a joke, because they are all thriving and happy. Each person I’ve met so far is extremely passionate about the work and look at Nathaniel with glowing admiration. But when he gives a noncommittal chuckle to my comment, a shadow passes over his face. The fact that his team pulls so many long days is clearly eating at him. They do need help.
Blerg.
Here comes the guilt.
A beautiful older woman with chunky, colorful jewelry and long silver hair steps out next holding a large homemade ceramic mug with the string from a teabag hanging out. “Hi,” she says with a genuine smile.
Her aura is so calming, just having her address me melts the nervous tension from my shoulders.
“Here we have Kate Sedillos, fellow energetic engineer,” Nathaniel introduces.
“I heard you all but saved the J-78 contract over on the aerospace side.” Her voice is as soothing as her presence.
“That was a good team. I was happy to help,” I said.
“We’re lucky to have you join us.”
“Hasn’t agreed yet,” Nathaniel mumbles.
She shoots him an accessing look. “Hmm,” is all she says before heading back into her own office.
Nathaniel directs me on and gently knocks on the cracked door before pushing it open. The office is dark except for two giant monitors obscuring the face of the occupant. The glowing blue keyboard clacks as fingers blur across, typing at record speeds.
“And this is Jared Pala, our software engineer. He makes it so all our systems can talk to each other,” he explains.
The man in question types on, unaware of our presence.
“He’s in the zone. Hang on.” Nathaniel balls up a sticky note and tosses it behind the monitors.
A muffled curse and a second later, the man in question stands up. And up and up. He towers at least a foot and a half over me. I’m only around five feet, but still. He blinks at the bright light from the open door before slipping off his headphones. My eyes widen at his impressive stature despite trying to play it cool. He has a pierced eyebrow and black hair that’s tied in sections going all the way down his back. I am a little intimidated until he smiles and extends a hand.
“Hey. Julia?” he asks with a rich voice.
I nod, a little awestruck. I blink at his extended hand.
“Jared Pala,” he says.
I hate this part. The awkward explaining that I have an autoimmune disorder that makes me susceptible to germs is the easiest half-truth I’ve learned to tell. I feel guilty every time I do. My best friend, Angel, deals with chronic illness and while mine feels painfully real, it is not the same. My pain comes from pushing down on this weirdness inside me.
But before I need to say anything, he drops his hand. “Oh yeah, Nathaniel texted me. Sorry.” That’s it. No big deal, no more questions. The moment is over.
“No worries,” I say. My sleeves have been pulled down this whole time and it only just occurs to me that nobody else has tried to shake my hand. I just barely told Nathaniel about it. He was on his phone for a second, likely sending over the info to the team. He didn’t make a whole thing about it. Already he managed to make me feel totally at home.
“So has he convinced you to join us yet?” The look he shoots Nathaniel tells me that Jared is his closest friend in the office.
“He’s definitely throwing all the perks at me,” I say.
“Just wait until you see the espresso machine.”
“Foiled,” I say like a curse. “Free coffee gets me every time. Big Cheese plays dirty,” I say without thinking, and then feel thankful for the dark office hiding another blush.
“Big Cheese?” Jared shoots Nathaniel another look and then tilts his head. “It suits him.”
