Jameson (Face-Off Series Book 4)

by Jillian Quinn

  The bile rises up from the back of my throat, choking me as we make our ascent. Silence is worse than having him yell at me the entire ride upstairs. Mr. Conway is the type of man who speaks only when he has a purpose. Of course, he chose to use his words to embarrass me in front of Regan. He never seems to have an issue with making people feel inferior in front of their peers.

  Even with my promotion, I’m still not high enough on the food chain to garner the privilege of moving up to this floor. But I work my ass off in hopes of one day making that a reality. I need to explain everything to Regan. Why I work so hard to get where I am. Why I left her stranded by the elevator. Why I stood her up this morning at the coffee shop.

  My life back in Chicago was complicated, to say the least. All I had growing up was Charlie, a few clothes and toys I was allowed to take from home, and the one comic book I salvaged from the wreckage. I don’t know who had it worse—Charlie or me.

  That part of my life I keep tucked away from the world. Only Charlie knows what it was like when we were kids. She’s the only person who understands what I went through without feeling sorry for me. If I could muster up enough courage to tell Regan, then maybe she would figure out why this job and my work are so important to me.

  Maybe I could make her see that this is not just a game. There will always be another project and possibly something even greater one day. But that’s not why I do this.

  Mr. Conway doesn’t speak until we reach the executive level. Once the doors open, I should be able to breathe easier, but I have no idea what awaits me. My boss is full of surprises and enjoys toying with me. He knew I had a date this morning, although I never said it was a date. That didn’t keep him from stopping me from leaving the building.

  The guards had escorted me back to the office when I tried to leave for breakfast. Two times in one day, he made me feel insignificant. Made a fool of me. Well, the day will come when I get my chance to make him pay.

  From the pristine white marble floors to the offices encased in glass, the entire floor gives off the vibe that only the elite belongs here. I am not one of them. I will never be one of them, no matter how hard I try.

  While I might be the best programmer they have on staff, the big wigs will never see a guy like me, who had come from a humble beginning, on the same level as them. I can’t golf. I don’t like the stale taste of cigars. And I’m not a womanizing pig. We have nothing in common.

  In this business, you have to play the game. I choose to forge my own path. But I still have to follow the rules. Or at least until I can make my escape.

  “Take a seat,” Mr. Conway says, once we step inside his office. He slams the door so hard it causes the floor to shake beneath my feet. “We have a lot to discuss.”

  With those words, the sickness rises up from my stomach again. At a bare minimum, I have to finish this project. My future in gaming depends on it.

  In front of the massive oak desk that spans one wall of the office, I sit in one of the high back leather armchairs. It’s an unusual choice for an office, but Mr. Conway likes everything to be of the highest caliber—including this expensive furniture. But this is not your typical office. The ceilings are high with windows that almost reach up to them, providing a perfect view of the city.

  I have a similar view, but from this height, I can see the top of Independence Hall with Liberty Bell Center right across the street. Both Charlie and I have offices that are conveniently located across from historic Philadelphia sites. In a city rich in United States history, it’s hard not to surround yourself with the culture.

  When we first moved to the city, Charlie and I immersed ourselves in everything the city had to offer. Much like Chicago, we found all the tourist spots, learned which ones to avoid, and where to get the best food. We’d started over together, built new lives for ourselves. I remember the first time Charlie ate a hoagie, a cold lunchmeat sandwich that Philadelphians obsess over as if it’s the greatest food ever invented. She fell in love with hoagies, and I had become obsessed with cheesesteaks.

  At a time like this, I have to remember why I moved here and what brought me to this company. I wanted a better life, one that I now have because of the sacrifices I had to make…continue to make.

  Mr. Conway plops down in the chair across from me and folds his hands on the desk in front of him. The look in his eyes, so hard and intense, could cut through glass. His mouth twists in disgust, the corners eventually turning up into a smirk.

  “We have a problem, O’Connor.” His voice sounds even deeper and more demanding in the quiet room. “Our client called while you were off fucking secretaries.”

  His words stir a fire inside my chest that causes me to ball my hands into fists on my lap. Fighting off the desire to reach across the desk and choke this bastard, I grind my teeth together to keep my mouth shut. Regan is not a fucking secretary. But he doesn’t know that. Even if he did, he wouldn’t care. To a man like Mr. Conway, women are as replaceable as the furniture in this room. So are all people, for that matter.

  “What did they say?” I choke out, doing my best to control myself. My voice sounds level enough that he doesn’t pick up on my irritation.

  “You and your team have less than one month to deliver the finished product.”

  “But we were supposed to have the same amount of time to give them the beta version. We’re still testing the software. It has a few kinks that I’m trying to work out. They can have a demo of the game, but I will need more than a month for the final product.”

  He leans forward, his stare growing more intense. “Get it done. I don’t care how you have to do it. I don’t care if you sleep in your office from now until then. TGS paid us a lot of money to give them what they want. I’m not about to lose one of our biggest clients over this game.”

  I sit up straight in my chair and clear my throat. “Yes, Sir. I’ll make it work.”

  He gives me a weak smile and sinks back into his chair, resting his thick forearms at his sides. “That’s what I like to hear, O’Connor. I’ll let TGS know that you will be ready for their live demo on Monday.”

  “Monday?” I practically fall out of my chair in shock. “That’s not enough time.”

  “You just said you could hand over the final product. If that’s the case, you should have enough of the modules built to do a live demo or at least fake one for our client.”

  “The guys at TGS are too smart to give them a false presentation. They’ll see right through all the loopholes in the game and realize we’re full of shit.”

  “Like I said, I don’t care what you need to do to get it done. If we lose this client, I’m not so sure we’ll have a place for you or your team.”

  My heart drops into my stomach, the bile that never went away choking me so much that it takes my breath away. I swallow to clear my throat, but nothing happens. I had given up so much to get where I am today. And my team has come along with me for the ride. Some of the guys have families, college tuition bills, and second mortgages to pay. I cannot let them down. I cannot be the reason they are out of a job.

  “We will make it work, sir.” My tone doesn’t indicate an ounce of confidence, though I wish it did. I’m so transparent he can see right through me, through the façade.

  “For your sake, let’s hope so, O’Connor.” He waves his hand toward the door, an evil grin crossing his lips. “You’re dismissed.”

  With the seriousness of the situation weighing me down, as if my body is made of sand, I have trouble getting up from the chair. Holding onto the arm, I push myself up and nod in acknowledgment at my shithead boss, wishing I could punch him in the face instead of shaking his hand.

  He gives my hand a limp shake. You can tell a lot about a man by the way he shakes your hand. But I have to suck it up and deal with whatever he throws my way. We don’t exchange another word, and I leave his office almost in shame. More like humiliation. My entire life I have been kicked while I was down. It sucks. You get used to it.