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Amy is probably the biggest pain in my arse of all the CyberSec employees. I’m gobsmacked that Erik is interested. At least he’s not her direct supervisor. All personnel issues come to me, unfortunately. She’s smart and good at her job, but always dissatisfied. Her degree is from Stanford and somehow that inflates her self-importance. My Oxford degree is at least as prestigious as hers, which is the only reason she treats me with any respect. Her dismissive attitude toward her colleagues as stupid, slow, clueless means she has no friends.
Her complaints range from demands for raises in pay that are out of the industry standard to not having enough responsibility to being passed over for promotion. The prospect of her supervising anyone else is a nightmare I don’t want to face. Once a month at least, I toy with firing her, but her contributions are valuable enough that Jarvis always convinces me to overlook her faults.
I wipe a hand over my face and struggle to keep frustration out of my voice. “There’s no company policy.” But I can imagine the havoc if this goes tits up.
“Okay, Max.” He sighs. “We have understanding.”
A heaviness settles in my chest as I push the mobile back in my pocket. I can’t help wondering what Amy’s angle might be. She’s made no secret of her ambition and I’m sure she’s hunting for another job. Her coding skills are excellent, but her abrasive personality makes her crap at dealing with others.
Cress glides in with a kimono robe over her T-shirt and sleep shorts, a cup in her hand. Her eyes are partly closed, hair a tangle of curls, face creased from sleep. Beautiful. She coughs slightly. Her voice is raspy. “Why are you skulking in the bathroom on your phone?”
“I was trying not to wake you.”
“Heard the ring. Was it important?”
I shake my head.
“Morning tea.” She holds out the mug.
I grab it and gulp some of the milky liquid.
A big yawn and then Cress squints tiredly. “Tell me again why we’re having this dinner party.”
“I just want to do something as a thank you to Jarvis for agreeing to stay here with the cats. And we don’t leave until late in the day tomorrow, so we can sleep late after our blowout evening.”
Cress’ eyes narrow. “Is something wrong? Do you have to go into the office?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, then adjust my glasses. “Nothing that serious. We have an extra guest this evening.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. Plenty of food. She’s annoying.”
“It’s someone you know, then.”
“She’s part of our team. High dissatisfaction level, but she’s good at her job. Feels overlooked, overworked, and underpaid.” I take a deep breath. “Our manager, Erik, is dating her.“
She lifts an eyebrow.
“We don’t have any rules about it but he’s not her direct supervisor, I am. Fingers crossed that it doesn’t blow up in our faces.”
“Oh, Max. Yes, fingers crossed.”
My stomach gives a warning growl that has nothing to do with office complications.
“Was that you?” Cress pats my stomach, a cheeky grin lighting up her face.
“Bacon and eggs?”
“Sounds great.” She yawns, then her mouth snaps shut. “I think there is some bacon left from the last order.”
When I get down to the kitchen, there’s no luck with the fridge, so I turn to the freezer, grab the slab, and push the drawer closed.
I glare at the brick on the counter, then put it back and call up the stairs. “We can have cereal this morning. And tomorrow.”
The wordstoast and marmaladedrift down the stairs. I cut some bread and put it under the grill. The jars of marmalade and almond butter sit next to a plate, ready to receive the golden slices when they issue from the mini oven. Then I slide a capsule into the coffeemaker and soon the aromatic scent of her favorite blend permeates the kitchen. I fill her mug just as she re-emerges swathed in a gray hoodie that proclaimsWriter at Workwith a graphic of a laptop and a pile of books.
“I’m going to spend the day doing research on the book and printing the final manuscript for Ivan. Ainsley must be one of the last editors in the world to demand a paper copy.” Then she snaps her fingers. “Or do you need me to help you with the cooking?”
