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He gives a slight nod, then waits for the door to close behind her. We’re alone now, and I can feel the smoked-glass walls closing in with every second that passes in increasingly awkward silence. I can’t do this for much longer. It’s bad enough I’ve embarrassed myself again, for Pete’s sake!
There is a bit of an upside to us being alone, though. It gives me the few unadulterated extra seconds I need to really look at Will Bucklow.
By the stars, he’s gorgeous. I’ve done some reading about him since he made his offer. He’s a brilliant man who started from scratch in Silicon Valley, coming from an orphanage and the foster system with not a penny to his name. I know he’s worked insanely hard to get to where he is today.
His dark shirt clings in all the right places, bringing out his broad shoulders and toned arms. His hair is a black tousled mess, curls hanging playfully along his temples. His blue eyes slice through my very soul like stainless steel, and his cologne is just about detectable from where I’m sitting—an intense and heady, peppered fragrance. Everything about him plants incandescent thoughts at the back of my head, but I’m supposed to be all cool and professional while we… talk.
My dream job is happening right in front of my eyes, but I’m literally drooling over my boss.
“All right, so first things first,” he says after a long pause. “Are we both in agreement that the only prick in that coffee queue at SanFranLabs was you?”
I let out a gasp as I stare at him in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”
“You bet I am.”
“You had that locked and loaded, didn’t you?”
“I absolutely did.”
I sigh deeply and choose to concede. “I was the prick, yes.”
“Thank you. Now, about personal belongings—”
“No need to delve deeper on that topic. I’m going to read that onboarding manual during my lunch break today, I promise.”
He gives me a slightly offended glare. “If you could you let me finish?”
“My apologies.”
“Accepted.” Oh, how he’s enjoying this. “Miss MacArthur—”
“Olivia, please.” Since he hates being interrupted, I make sure to do it with an innocent smile, leaning back into my seat as I decide to deliver tit for tat in this particular exchange. It sparks all kinds of fires in my chest, and elsewhere…
“Olivia. At Bucklow Tech, we have firm standards of good living and have been able to deliver tremendous results for our clients without overworking our people. Overtime is optional and generously paid, but we don’t want people to come here as though they’re coming to a second home. They have friends and families that miss them, and I am a firm believer that while work can be pleasant, it’s still work.”
“What about that saying… love what you do and you’ll never work a day in your life?”
He smiles subtly. Barely a flash across his soft lips. “I believe that with all my heart, but I don’t expect everyone else to feel the same way. Besides, keeping this place minimalistic has us working in a decluttered environment that nurtures bright and fresh ideas. I’d never get the results I’ve had with this company if all the desks were covered in cute little bobbleheads and succulents and dozens of handmade frames for family photos to swoon over, if that makes sense.”
“They’re all distractions. I get it.”
“You’ll get it even better when you start working and you realize how much of your focus was being wasted on trivial objects that only serve to temporarily boost your dopamine. We’ve got treadmills in the ground-floor gym that will give you more.”
“I see.”
He leans forward. “That being said, I won’t be a bigger prick than you. You can keep the cactus, but everything else needs to go back to your place. You’ll thank me later.”
“For what, exactly? Repeatedly calling me a prick?”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “I only give as good as I get. Now, on to the biggest issue on the table here. Project Asclepius. How long did it take you to put the theoretical parts together?”
I still remember the countless sleepless nights I spent in front of my computer, surrounded by empty coffee mugs and all the trivial clutter Will wants me to put away. I still remember the hours I spent staring at the ceiling while putting the crucial pieces together in my mind’s eye, imagining the connections and the circuits coming together in perfect harmony.
It took me about two years to move from theories on paper to the real deal. Two years of self-doubt and unpaid internships with major tech manufacturers to better understand what I could and couldn’t achieve through Asclepius. It is because of those years that I am now able to sit here in his office and speak my mind with confidence.
“About two years, and it was a laborious process,” I reply.
“I believe you. I’m amazed it only took two,” Will says. “To my shame, I probably would’ve hashed something like this out in the span of a decade. But what got you so invested in it?” he asks, his eyes actively searching for the center of my soul. “Most software engineers go for much flashier stuff.”
