by Nina Lindsey
She pressed her lips together. Her face drained of color. “You can’t fix this for me.”
“Tell me.”
She set her glass down and walked to her desk, pulling open a file drawer. She took out a wrinkled, torn piece of paper that had been taped back together and handed it to him.
One look at the crude drawing, and Grant’s anger went nuclear. “What the fuck—”
“They said it was a game. Those are the initials of five of the men on my team. I’m pretty sure it was started by John, the asshole who called me hot stuff right after I’d been hired. Apparently, the others thought it was great fun.”
Grant stared at the paper, his blood scorched. “I’m going to fucking kill those—”
“You cannot fix this.” Rory stepped closer. Her eyes sparked. “You can’t go to HR, to your father, to the police, to anyone. My supervisor, one of the few women in the entire company, warned me not to file a complaint because it’d backlash on me, and even worse is the fact that she was right. Another coworker knew I’d found that paper…he was the one who told me I’d been the subject of an interoffice game…and he told our other team members. You can guess how well that went over. Now they’re all thinking I have it out for them, and they want me to either quit or get fired, which means I’m taking a lot of crap. Stop.”
He kicked the desk chair backward until it hit the wall. His blood was molten with rage, every muscle locked for battle. “You are not staying there. No fucking way.”
She pulled in a heavy breath. “I’m trying to find a way to get out that won’t destroy my next job prospect or even my career. I already have a reputation for drama because I’ve fought back, and a shitload of good that did me.”
“Rory, quit the fucking job!” Grant flung his arms out, his breathing rapid. “To hell with anyone who won’t hire you because you stood up for yourself. Turn in your notice now. Get all your documentation together. I’ll call my lawyer, and we’ll hit those bastards with a heavy and very public lawsuit. By the time we’re done with them, there won’t be a Digicore left.”
“No.” She shook her head in defiance. “It’s not that easy. I know too many cases of women getting tied up in expensive legal battles for years before they end up losing anyway. Suing your former company is a career death sentence.”
“The tech industry is not the only place where you can use your talent and skills.” Frustration gripped him like a fist. “There are hundreds of other companies that would kill to have you on their payroll and who would value and respect you instead of treating you like garbage. Why would you want to stay?”
Rory stepped back. Silence fell like an anvil. His pulse hammered.
“Why do you stay at the Mousehole?” A cold note infused her voice.
“What?”
“Why would you want to stay?” She shrugged and held up her hands. “As a matter of fact, why would you want to stay in the restaurant world at all? It’s hard work, uncertain, unpredictable. It screwed up your relationship with your family. The hours are crazy. You can’t even get away long enough to see your girlfriend for more than ten hours a week. As a chef, you’re on your feet all day. You get burned constantly—stove, grill, boiling water, hot oil. It’s dangerous and physically tough. You have to deal with complaints from customers, vendors, suppliers. It’s lonely and the pay probably sucks. So why don’t you just quit, Grant? Go work at a bookstore or write about food for a magazine. Why do you stay?”
He couldn’t even form a response. His chest was so tight it hurt.
“When I…” Rory paused, pushing a lock of hair away from her forehead. “When I first learned to code, I thought it was like a magic spell. I could use it to create amazing and wonderful things. Technology was changing the world in so many different ways. Science, medicine, engineering, education. Everything. I wanted to be part of it. I wanted to change the world.”
She walked to the kitchen, her spine rigid. “Whenever one of my sisters, friends, or even my parents was working on something, I’d think about how to design a program or app to help. Like a better way for Aria to target customers when she was selling macramé art, or a system to pair her stray animals with the right families. Or I’d dream up a game that Callie could use to teach Greek mythology or a way for my mother to network with other bakers. It was exciting, the idea that I had the knowledge and creativity to actually turn those ideas into reality.
“That’s the reason I went to school. Why I worked so hard. Why I wrote letters to women who’d made it to the upper echelons of the tech industry and asked for their advice. It’s why I made both friends and enemies, and it’s why I’ve always wanted to work for the companies that were creating the most interesting and innovative programs.
“I looked to Callie and the way she charted her own path to becoming a tenured professor. I could see myself doing the same thing. I wanted to prove myself as a lead, as a manager, and eventually as an executive who could really make a difference, like the maverick women who’ve blazed the trail before me. I thought one day I could even run my own company.”
She spun to face him, her eyes suddenly flashing. “And every time I quit a job or asked for a transfer or filed a complaint or ignored a nasty comment, it was like getting another chip knocked out of this vision I’d had since I was a kid. You know that game Chutes and Ladders where you can end up sliding right back down to the bottom with one spin of the wheel? That’s what it was like. I’d end up right back at the bottom again, if not literally, then in the eyes of the people in power, which was even worse.
“But when I was working with good companies and good people, it was like being in the eye of a hurricane where everything is calm and perfect. Where we could all just do what we did best and work together. Where I remembered what it could be like. Twice, I thought I’d found it, the company I’d never leave, but the first one was a start-up that went under, and the second was sold and had a reorganization that pushed many of us out. I could see it, though, the way I wanted to work and be treated. I still can.”
She shook her head and compressed her mouth. “And then something like this happens, and I’m reminded that it can be so fucking hard and, yes, I want to flip all those bastards off and walk out and never look back because, really, is it worth it? Why am I putting myself through this?
“Then I remember I’m not the one at fault, that no one has the right to treat anyone like they’re inferior, to demean, bully, and violate them. It’s not okay for anyone to make me the subject of a game, and why the fuck should I let them destroy me and everything I’ve worked for and wanted? So to answer your question, Grant, that’s why I want to stay.”
She was breathing hard, her eyes hot with blue fire, her fists clenched.
Every part of him weakened—his bones, his soul, his heart. He could live a thousand years and never love a woman as much as he loved her.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. There were no words. “I’m a fucking idiot, Rory. I’m so sorry.”
“You stay because you love it.” Her expression softened a little, and she took a step toward him. “Because you want to make people feel good. I stay because I love it. Because while I no longer think I can change the entire world, I still believe I can change a corner of the world. Maybe even two corners.”
“What…” Something stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard and tried again. “What do you need me to do? What do you want me to do? Anything. I’ll do anything for you.”
She looked at him for a long moment before a faint smile curved her mouth. “You can do what you’ve been doing for two years, Grant. You can just be right over there.”
He crossed the room in three strides and hauled her against him, tightening his arms so hard around her that he was probably crushing her. He couldn’t let go, couldn’t loosen his grip.
“I’m not over there.” His voice was rough. “I’m right here.”
He pressed his face into her hair and struggled to calm the fire raging
inside him, the black fury that anyone would dare to hurt her, the urge for violent revenge.
He pulled in a heavy breath. He’d be here for her always. But it wasn’t enough, not for him. He couldn’t just stand on the sidelines while she went into battle. He had to take action, to do something. He’d fought for the life he wanted, and with everything he had, he would fight for hers. Her war was his war.
Chapter 23
To Rory’s complete lack of surprise, almost a week after she’d found the “game” scoresheet, her supervisor Brenda informed her after a meeting that she hadn’t been chosen as the Principal Engineer on the AI cloud project.
“It turns out you weren’t what we were looking for.” Brenda pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and gave a little too bad shrug.
“Imagine that.” Rory turned away, not bothering to thank the other woman as she headed back to The Hive.
Her enthusiasm for the possibility of the lead position had nosedived considerably over the past week, though part of her had been hoping for the chance at professional vindication. Being transferred to another division would also have bought her some time to look for another job. She could still request a transfer, but given her label as a “troublemaker,” she had little doubt it would be blocked.
As she entered the open office space, the Digicore CEO Brad Dawson, a youngish man with glasses and wheat-colored hair, came out of a conference room. He stepped in front of her to block her path. “Rory.”
Her spine tensed. “Hello, Brad.”
“I’ve been hearing rumors about a little office…dust-up.” His eyes narrowed. “Your name has been mentioned. Given that we don’t tolerate distractions here at Digicore, I wanted to warn you that it appears you’re becoming one.”
She clenched her teeth. “Digicore doesn’t tolerate distractions? Great. In case you didn’t know, harassment and bullying are serious distractions. I’m not the one who needs a warning.”
She shoved past him and stalked through the maze of desks back to her workstation. Suppressing her anger out of longstanding habit, she sat and pulled up the program she was working on. All of her recent code reviews had come back with extensive change lists, most of which were either nitpicky or unnecessary and some of which were legitimate. She made the changes and sent them back for another round.
Three more days, and she could return to Bliss Cove for Thanksgiving. She and Grant were spending Thanksgiving Day with her family, then they were driving to San Francisco on Friday for a dinner with his parents.
The holiday couldn’t come fast enough. Rory ached to see her mother and sisters, to be around the people who loved her. Her emotions had been ricocheting through her like bullets. She was at constant war with herself—her self-preserving urge to walk out of the office right now battling her determination not to let the assholes win.
The long weekend would give her a chance to regroup and figure out her next step. She had no intention of staying in her current situation, but she wasn’t going to leave without a plan in place. That plan would likely come without any form of punishment for the men involved, but she’d been through that before. She was hardly the only woman who had.
“Got any candy?” Douglas turned his chair toward her, his eyebrows rising hopefully.
Rory smothered the urge to slap him. He’d been trying, and failing, to act like everything was back to “normal.”
She shook her head, angling her chair so he was out of her peripheral vision. If only they at least had cubicles.
As she was fixing an inconsistency in her code, a noticeable hush settled over the room. Rory looked up. Everyone’s attention was shifting toward the elevators, where a group of six people had just exited. Four Digicore senior executives and CEO Brad followed Edward and Nathan Taylor into the office.
Rory’s heart stuttered. Some of her coworkers were openly looking at Edward, while others cast him surreptitious glances. Most people outside of the insular Silicon Valley tech world didn’t know the Intellix founder on sight, but everyone in the Digicore office certainly did. Brad spoke to him and indicated the open office space, as if he were explaining the company’s operations.
Rory turned back to her computer, her insides twisting. It looked as if Edward and Nathan might be having a high-level meeting with the Digicore C-suite. But why?
They started walking around The Hive, pausing at desks and asking questions. She tried to focus on her work, but it was impossible to ignore them the closer they got.
“I heard he’s here to talk about a possible collaboration on AI solutions.” Douglas’s bitter coffee-breath wafted to Rory’s nose as he leaned closer. “Especially in the hybrid cloud space. That’d be pretty cool, huh? Intellix is doing some amazing stuff with AI.”
Rory edged her chair away from him and didn’t respond. Edward, Nathan, and the execs were getting closer to her workstation. Anxiety gripped her.
Not for a second did she think the execs would deign to discuss the harassment at a meeting—if they all even knew about it—but she’d never imagined what she’d do if her work life intersected negatively with that of the Taylors.
“Hey, Rory.” Nathan’s friendly voice carried over the sound of her heart hammering. “I was hoping we’d see you here.”
“We expected we would,” Edward announced.
Aware of her coworkers going silent with surprise—how, after all, would Rory Prescott know Edward and Nathan Taylor?—she rose to her feet.
“Just a worker bee in The Hive.” She smiled and extended her hand to Edward, then Nathan. “Good to see you both, though I have to say I hadn’t expected it.”
“Kind of an impromptu meeting, or we’d have let you know we were coming.” Nathan smiled.
Edward indicated her workstation. “You work okay here?”
“It’s fine.”
He made a harrumph noise. “We have closed office spaces at Intellix. Less distractions. More privacy. Never been a fan of this open space concept.”
“It takes some getting used to,” Rory allowed, acutely aware of the stares from all angles, especially the Digicore executives.
“How do you like working here?” Edward pulled his eyebrows together.
From over his shoulder, Brad glared at Rory, as if warning her to watch her response.
“It’s challenging and…interesting.” That was somewhat true, at least. “Well, I’ll let you continue your tour. Pleasure seeing you again.”
“Do you have my number?” Nathan took out his phone. “I assume Grant didn’t give it to you since he doesn’t even know what it is.”
Rory unlocked her phone and quickly exchanged numbers with Nathan. After they’d said goodbye and continued walking, she sat back down.
Whispers rose around her. She didn’t want to know what they were saying.
“Dude. How’d you know them?” Douglas asked. “Are you, like, dating him?”
“Shut up, you disgusting little toad.”
“Whoa. Harsh.” He held up his hands and rolled back to his workstation.
After the Taylors had left the office, a message from Edward popped up on her phone. Join me for lunch. Italian restaurant over on Fourth Street. One o’clock.
Though she appreciated the invitation, she hesitated. She didn’t want him to know the first thing about the hostile atmosphere surrounding her. She couldn’t risk him stepping in on her behalf, and if things got really convoluted and it ended up affecting whatever business prospects Digicore had with Intellix… God. She’d be totally vilified, like Yoko Ono breaking up the Beatles.
Then again, she was a small cog in a vast wheel. The unpleasantness affected every part of her work and life, but the reverberations wouldn’t impact Digicore’s upper management. Certainly no one at Intellix had reason to get involved.
She agreed to the invitation and returned to work.
Close to one, she drove to the Italian restaurant and found Edward seated at a quiet table beside a window. He rose when she approached an
d pulled out her chair for her.
“Thank you.” She looped her purse over the back of the chair and sat down. “Where’s Nathan?”
“Back at the office.” Edward sat across from her. “He tends to come in early and leave early so he can get back home to Alice.”
Rory ignored a faint pang at the idea of getting back home to one’s love.
She and Edward placed their drink and food orders and talked about the weather and local happenings. Edward had purchased tickets for him and Joanna to a Bay Area music festival, which reminded Rory of Joanna’s remark about how much she and her husband had loved watching music shows when they were first married. It was nice to think that perhaps Joanna’s wish for a “second honeymoon” had taken root in Bliss Cove and was continuing to flourish.
The server brought their plates over and refilled their water glasses before departing.
“So, my wife tells me you’re still in a relationship with Grant.” Edward took a swallow of his gin-and-tonic and studied Rory.
She nodded and draped her napkin in her lap. “It’s working long distance.” More or less.
“She hoped that you living here would bring Grant home more often.” He shrugged, his forehead creasing. “Hasn’t happened.”
“I know. Honestly, I don’t get to see him as much as I’d like to, either.” She took a bite of chicken piccata. “I haven’t managed to get back to Bliss Cove at all, and Grant is so busy running the Mousehole that he can only come up for a few hours at a time.”
“You haven’t convinced him to quit?”
“I don’t want to. I would never ask him to quit doing what he loves. His dedication to the tavern, to his customers, is just one of the many, many reasons your son is so well-regarded in Bliss Cove.”
He frowned and sliced into his filet mignon. “I didn’t raise either of my sons to be a chef.”
“But that’s what Grant is.” If Edward had asked her to lunch in order to gripe about Grant, then the least she could do was defend him with everything she had. “He’s an incredible chef and a restaurant owner. Though it’s none of my business, you can’t raise your children to be what you want them to be. If they want the same thing, great. Win win. But if they want to be and do something else, especially if they’re willing to walk away from you to do it, then you might want to consider shifting the old perspective there. Recode the algorithm.”