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Merrybell hums. “Most local musicians book out weeks in advance. We might be hard pressed to find someone on such short notice.”
“Why not play the piano yourself?” I suggest.
Alina glances up at me, our eyes finding one another—but only for a moment before she looks away again. She smiles down at her iPad, bashful and clearly avoidant. “That’s definitely Plan B. I’m out of practice.”
“Not from what I heard.”
“We’ll see.” Her voice is soft, but her words are clipped. I don’t know how to get a read on her.
Merrybell, astute as ever, catches my concerned glance. “I’ll get started on the guest list,” she tells Alina helpfully. “I know it’s an open invitation, but we’ll still want to try and invite as many big fish as possible. You never know who might bite.”
Alina smiles. “Thank you. That’d be great.”
“Mr. Antonov, it’s just about time for lunch. I’m sure Alina would love to see the cafeteria downstairs.” Merrybell pats my wife on the back of the hand. “You should see it down there, my dear. It’s practically a food court! Mr. Antonov likes to make sure his employees have a healthy selection to choose from. Boosts morale and such.”
Merrybell couldn’t be any more obvious as she shuffles out of the office, leaving Alina and I alone for the first time since arriving at CyberFort. Nevertheless, I take the opportunity and rise from my desk.
“Lunch?” I ask her.
Alina nods. “Sure.”
* * *
The entirety of the second floor is a dedicated eatery and hangout space, put together by some of New York’s top interior designers to encourage the open exchange of ideas amongst employees and build a sense of community.
The area is well-lit, not only because of the massive windows overlooking New York, but because of the large lighting panels installed in the ceiling. There are plenty of live plants to add a refreshing hint of green, as well as plenty of circular tables with ample seating so my employees can sit wherever they choose. There’s a wide assortment of foods, from a fresh salad bar, a sushi station, and even handmade pizza.
“What do you feel like having?” I ask Alina.
“Whatever you’re having.”
A flicker of annoyance licks at the nape of my neck. “Alina. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve hardly spoken to me all day.”
She forces a smile. “I’m just feeling a bit under the weather.”
I reach out in concern, pressing my fingers gingerly to her forehead. She’s not warm, though she does look uncharacteristically weary. “Should we call it an early day, then? If you’re not feeling well, maybe you shouldn’t come with me to the wedding.”
I relish the way Alina leans into my touch, even if it’s only for a moment. Before I can suggest anything further, someone behind us clears their throat. I turn—and freeze.
“Eileen?”
She stands behind us with her classic sweet smile, the one that used to drive me up the wall crazy. Eileen is dressed in a simple dark grey pencil skirt and frilly white blouse. A blue lanyard hangs from her neck, revealing her CyberFort employee ID badge. Apparently, she got the job in the accounting department, after all. I’m admittedly surprised, though it’s not like I’m in charge of overseeing every single hire.
“Fancy seeing you down here,” Eileen says chipperly. “My cubicle mates made it sound like the boss never ate amongst his people. I told them that was silly.”
Beside me, Alina’s eyes grow wide. “Um, hi? I’m Alina.”
“I’m Eileen,” she says, sticking her hand toward Alina to shake. “It’s so lovely to make your acquaintance.”
She smiles stiffly in return, shaking her hand with the rigidity of a marble statue. There’s recognition in her eyes. “It’s lovely to meet you, too,” Alina manages through gritted teeth.
“I wasn’t aware you hired a new assistant,” Eileen says to me.
“I didn’t. This is my wife.”
