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Hook, line and sinkered, actually. With each day that I stride into the industrial, bare-floored warehouse type space that SITL occupies, my heart beats a little louder, my palms get a little sweatier.
It feels good to be a part of something again, part of a team that’s set to make a difference. The funding the Donovans are gunning for involves a presentation to investors. Which means that we’re doing aseriouspush to create a cohesive, data-driven vision for SITL. The elementary plans for the Version 2 launch of the app are going to make things even better. It’s going to be a lot of work to get there, but it’s a challenge I’m up for.
All the more because SITL have an awesome product that the market deserves, and I’m excited to help give it its best chance. The design is beautiful, thoughtful, clever. It has the mark of a deep, critical thinker all over it. And I think I know which Donovan brother that may be.
It’s been interesting, watching the brothers work together, bent over mock-ups on the boardroom table. Through the glass walls of Liam’s—and my—office, I’ve noticed that Luke always has his shirt neck loosened, sleeves rolled up, blazer off. His hair’s usually mussed and he looks to be cracking jokes and checking his phone. Liam, on the other hand, is forever in the zone. Jacket on, tie straight, words clipped and to the point.
They’re like yin and yang.
Luke is smiling, Liam is serious. Luke asks me every morning how I’m doing. Liam usually avoids asking me anything—until he asked me if I was free to work tonight.
I’m happy to stay late, don’t get me wrong (and not just because I was glad for an excuse to escape yet another Jessica Fletcher marathon. Turns out, there reallyissuch a thing as too much true crime television). But I also feel a little nervous for the evening ahead. It'll be our first time being alone together since I oh-so-elegantly drooled all over him in the hotel room.
I’ve seen enough soapy TV dramas to know how this scenario plays out in the world of fiction: work turns into cozy chat. Cozy chat turns into eating Chinese takeout from white cardboard cartons on the floor, while our legs get closer and closer, and then…
Oh, gosh. Am I fantasizing that a night working with Liam will be anything like the time Sandy Cohen nearly cheated on his beloved Kirsten inThe OC?
Sacrilege.
That scene made me want to come after his blond temptress colleague with a pitchfork. How dare she! Sandy and Kirsten were TV’s golden couple back in the noughties. In fact, the bedroom I’m currently residing in still has a couple posters of Cohen family members on the walls (Seth, not Sandy. Although twenty-six-year-old me would very much like to rethink that choice).
But this is real life and not a soap opera, and Liam is (as far as I’m aware) not hiding a secret wife anywhere. Plus, I am the absolute opposite of a temptress of any kind.
This will be fine. Purely professional.
And besides, Liam doesn’t cross lines. He draws lines. Precision-straight lines.
Nothing to worry about.
Speaking of Liam… he’s been gone awhile.
I spin around on my chair and glance at the clock.
Wait, it’s 5:30?! I was so sucked into my Showtunes-and-data combo, I didn’t notice that the official work day ended a half hour ago. No wonder it’s so quiet in here.
I crane my head around, and sure enough, most people have already vacated. Any stragglers are leaving the office in dribs and drabs. Where on earth is Liam?
I smile slowly as I realize with a thrill thathe’s late.
“Hey, Annie.” Vanessa pops her head around the office door, startling me. She peers at Liam’s empty desk before looking at me. “I’m off for the evening.”
“Okay.” I nod once. “I’ll be here for the next few hours, I guess.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Lia—uh, Mr. Donovan asked me to work late.”
“Oh.” A long pause. “Want me to stay with you guys? I could help, um… sort?” Vanessa offers weakly. I get the feeling that, despite the fact that she hired me, she knows very little about what I do.
I also get the feeling that her obviously raging crush on Liam is unreciprocated. Unless I’m reading everything wrong again, which is always a possibility.
Lucky for me, I refuse to have a crush on Liam, so I will never end up in unrequited love territory at work. Seems stressful.
“That’s okay.” I shrug. “It’s just boring data stuff.”
Vanessa’s eyes spark, but with a flare of what looks like jealousy. She nods. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Have a good night.”
