The Geek Tycoon

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Think about it. Guys like us, guys with plenty of money, have to be extra careful.” He hated like hell to put himself in the same category with Blake, but tough times called for tough measures.

  “Yeah, that’s true. Women drool when they find out how much I’m worth.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So this no touching policy of yours – does that mean there’s really nothing going on between you and Charlotte?”

  “Think about it. Would a woman like her get involved with a nerd like me?”

  “I see your point.”

  Tony wished Blake hadn’t seen his point quite so quickly, but facts were facts. When he got back to the office he’d text Charlotte and tell her to invite everybody for pizza tonight.

  Chapter Two

  Charlotte read Tony’s text several times. She’d optimistically thought that tonight would be a semi-date. Apparently that hadn’t been his motivation after all. She’d been on the lookout for a sign that Anthony James Bainbridge IV viewed her in sexual terms and she’d clung to his spontaneous invitation as a potential place to begin.

  She’d paid attention during the six months she’d been working for him and no girlfriend had shown up at the office. Since he spent nearly all his time here, she doubted that he was seeing anyone. No wonder. He and the other guys were pouring all their energy into the app, but it also meant that she had a clear field except for one tiny complication. He was her boss.

  She had to keep reminding herself of that, though, because he didn’t act like any boss she’d ever had. Everyone in the office seemed to be on equal footing. Besides, she’d known him since she was five.

  He’d been brilliant even back then. While other kids had made forts and castles out of Legos he’d built a primitive but functional robot. They’d stayed friends through grade school but in high school the split between geeks and cool kids had separated them.

  If she hadn’t let that happen their story might have been very different. Or not. Maybe she’d imagined that glint in his hazel eyes when he’d said let’s make it just the two of us. Or she hadn’t imagined it and he’d reconsidered.

  Might as well find out for sure. She texted him back to say she’d rather stick with the original plan. Then she clutched her phone while she waited for his answer. Logically she should abandon her daydreams since she didn’t have a shred of evidence that he found her physically attractive.

  As for her, she’d finally matured enough to see the subtle sexiness of a man like Tony. She’d married Aaron at a stage in her life when good looks and sexual confidence had seemed important, but eventually the appeal of those qualities had faded as she’d realized her husband was a selfish and overbearing jerk.

  After divorcing him a year ago she’d sworn off dating while she figured out what she wanted in a man. Kindness, modesty and a sense of humor topped the list. Tony scored a hundred percent in those areas and by some miracle he was still single.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t his type. She’d run into him a few times over the years when he’d been with someone and apparently he preferred women who were skinny and introverted. Nearly all of them had worn glasses. She wasn’t about to starve herself to achieve the right body shape or change her outgoing personality. And her eyesight was twenty-twenty.

  Sometimes she imagined laying her cards on the table. I’m aware you don’t see anything in me, but I think you’re hot. Could we just try a kiss and see where it takes us?

  The reasons for not doing that were many. If he rejected her suggestion, their rediscovered friendship would be in jeopardy. If he agreed to the kiss and it was awful, they might laugh it off but would they ever forget the embarrassment? What a big chance to take.

  Last of all, if she tried to change their dynamic and failed, she’d have to leave the company. She loved working at BMUS. She would have accepted Tony’s offer no matter what, but the working environment had been an unexpected bonus.

  These four guys had enormous respect for each other and the synergy when they collaborated on an idea was something to behold. She had fun joking around with the Krause brothers and although their cyber cop Garrett Upton wasn’t at the office much, she enjoyed interacting with him whenever he came in.

  She looked forward to beer and brainstorming nights, but when Tony had suggested making it a twosome her heart had swelled with a different kind of anticipation. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d spent more than a few minutes alone. When he’d suggested it her imagination had turned a casual pizza dinner into something more significant.

  Her phone chimed. Tony’s message was short. Okay. Not exactly an answer to pin her hopes on. Maybe he pictured this as a marketing strategy meeting. Or he could have a plan for restructuring the personnel files and wanted a quiet moment to explain his thinking.

  She’d find out once they were seated across from each other at Picasso’s, the little pizza joint that had turned into an extension of their corporate world. Before she’d been hired, the blueprint for BMUS had been crafted at one of the restaurant’s scarred tables. Tony claimed he could identify the table because his initials were carved into it.

  Because she hadn’t believed him, she’d inspected the tables one night when the restaurant was empty except for the BMUS crew. Turned out he’d carved his initials into every table. The man had left his mark on this pizza parlor and she had a hunch he’d leave his mark on the world, too. He’d certainly left a mark on her heart.

  Two hours later he appeared in the doorway of her office looking rumpled and tired. He’d dragged the knot of his tie to half-mast. His dark hair was a tousled mess and a few strands fell over his forehead. “Ready to leave?”

  “Sure.” Her heart beat faster, but she didn’t want to make assumptions about how this would go. It could be a business meeting. “I’ll meet you over there.”

  He hesitated, as if he might be about to offer her a ride. Then he nodded. “See you in five.”

  “Wait.”

  He turned back to her, a question in his gaze.

  “I have to finish up a few things, so you’ll beat me. Why don’t you order our pizza and beer?”

  “I’ll do that. See you soon.” And off he went.

  She shut down her computer, grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk and took her jacket from the closet. She’d never primped for pizza night before, but this was different. At least she hoped it would be.

  Five minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom and walked down the hall past open office doors. Blake had left, but Frazer and Rylan were in their offices hunched over their computers and likely would stay there into the wee hours. She’d learned early on that wishing them goodnight was pointless. She’d need a bullhorn to get their attention.

  Dulcie Hilgendorf, the company’s receptionist and shared personal assistant, was long gone. Charlotte locked the entry door behind her. Frazer and Rylan would never hear an intruder.

  As she took the elevator to the parking garage in the basement to get her Prius, she buttoned her wool coat against the March chill. Picasso’s would have the gas fire going which always made the place seem twenty times cozier. She’d eaten in some of the priciest restaurants in the world and so had Tony. Thank goodness he wasn’t a snob who turned up his nose at basic pizza and draft beer.

  He always preferred a table near the fireplace on nights like this, but when she walked in he was sitting at a secluded booth in the back. Interesting. Then she had the awful thought that he was about to let her go. What if Blake had insisted on it because she was the whistleblower?

  She liked to think Tony wouldn’t do such a thing but he loved the company and the money from Blake’s father was critical to its survival. Her former excitement curdled in her stomach. If he’d chosen this booth so that he could give her the news in private, she wanted to know now.

  She held his gaze as she approached. Sure,
he was smiling, but he’d do that because he wouldn’t want to alarm her. Too late. She was already alarmed. He was a creature of habit and any variation in the routine meant something significant was in the works.

  Instead of sliding onto the worn red upholstery, she stood beside the table and met his gaze. “Why aren’t you at a table by the fireplace?”

  “I felt like sitting here for a change. Do you want to move? We can move.” He reached for the pitcher of beer and started to get up.

  “Hang on. I just need to know if you’re back here because you have something to say that requires privacy.”

  He looked startled. Then he blushed. “Uh . . . I –”

  “If you’re going to fire me, then just do it. Don’t soften me up with pizza and beer and then lower the boom.”

  “Fire you? Where did you get that nutty idea?”

  “It’s possible that when you confronted Blake about the Miranda incident he told you I had to go. If so, I don’t blame you for agreeing to get rid of me. You have no choice. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather . . . why are you grinning like an idiot?”

  “Because it warms my heart that you’d forgive me even if I gave you the ax.”

  “Of course I would! BMUS means everything to you.”

  “Not quite everything.”

  “All right, not everything. But a lot.”

  “Charlotte, I wouldn’t fire you because Blake told me to, but he didn’t. So where do you want to sit?”

  She glanced around and discovered that most of the customers had gathered near the fireplace, leaving this shadowy corner looking intimate by comparison. She still didn’t know why he’d chosen it, but by sitting here with him she might find out.

  “This is fine.” She dropped her purse on the seat, took off her coat and slid in opposite him. “But I’m curious as to why you switched to a booth.”

  “I like booths.” He poured beer into each mug and gestured for her to take one. “But they’re not practical for a crowd.”

  “Which we usually have.”

  “I’d go so far as to say always.” He lifted his mug in her direction. “Here’s to the app, whatever we’re going to call it.”

  “To the app.” She took a swallow of the beer. “Wow, this tastes better than usual tonight.”

  “That’s because I asked Bert to track down a keg of my favorite microbrew.”

  She blinked. “This isn’t the regular draft?”

  “No, but don’t mention it to the others, okay? I like what we normally have just fine and they couldn’t afford this stuff.”

  “I wasn’t planning to advertise the fact that we went for pizza without them, let alone brag about the beer.”

  “Probably just as well after my conversation with Blake.” He took a sip from his mug.

  “How did it go?” Until this moment she hadn’t admitted to herself how much she enjoyed watching him drink beer, or anything, really. But mostly she’d been on hand for the beer. He had a great mouth – wide and firm, the kind of mouth that could potentially send her to the moon and back.

  “He hotly denied groping Miranda.”

  “Shocker.”

  “Then he threatened to quit because he didn’t want to work at a place where he’d been falsely accused.”

  Charlotte groaned. “So you had to beg him to stay?”

  “Sort of. I said that if he quit he’d be running away. He didn’t much care for that image so he’s staying to prove we’ve got him all wrong.” Tony sighed and took a long swallow from his mug.

  “That’s a brilliant approach, but do you think that’ll make him keep his hands to himself? A leopard doesn’t change his spots.”

  He set down the mug. “I know, so I sounded the alarm about sexual harassment suits and told him my personal policy of not touching women I work with.”

  “Do you have such a policy?” That could explain why he’d never touched her.

  “No.” He finished off his beer and grabbed the pitcher. “Refill?”

  “Sure.” So no policy, but he’d still never laid a hand on her. Depressing. She took a hefty swallow of his most excellent beer.

  “I should amend that. I didn’t consciously decide to avoid touching women I work with, but now that I think about it, I probably should.”

  “Tony, nobody with half a brain would ever accuse you of sexual harassment.”

  “Easy to say because you know me, but this company is going to grow and I need to consider things like this. I plan to discuss it with the guys tomorrow and see if we need to come up with a company policy we can adhere to.”

  “I wouldn’t advise adopting a rule against all touching.” Sadly, she could see where this was going. If she’d harbored a fantasy that he secretly longed for her, she might as well give up that pipe dream. If he had feelings for her he wouldn’t be mentally drafting a no-touching policy. Every day she became more attracted to him, but she was looking at years of frustration if she kept the job.

  “Wouldn’t that simplify things?”

  “Not really. There are all kinds of touching, from the innocent and friendly to the seductive and sexual. A handshake is touching.”

  “Then we’ll have to get more specific. But now’s the time to start, when the numbers are manageable. We only have five men and three women. Statistically speaking the odds are low that of those five men and three women, we’ll have potential matchups where touching is an issue.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “You’ve reduced human interaction to an equation.”

  “What’s wrong with that? The probability of finding a perfect match in such a small sampling is nearly zero.”

  “But relationships don’t follow the laws of probability.”

  He peered at her over the rim of his mug. “Can you prove it?”

  “Not without some research, but I’m sure of this much – you can’t bring a group of people together and expect them to conform to some statistical model. You have to factor in the shared interests of the group, the close proximity and the opportunities for meaningful interaction.”

  His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Listen to you, talking nerdy.”

  “Can you prove me wrong?”

  “No, you make a good point. All the more reason to get a handle on this now and bring it to a level of awareness. These aren’t lab rats in an experiment. These are people we know, people we can reason with and explain all the factors that indicate why they shouldn’t press the lever to get the food pellets.”

  “Press the lever to get the food pellets? Is that code for having sex?”

  He blushed again. “Uh . . . I guess if you wanted to reduce it to basics . . . yeah, maybe.”

  He made her laugh, but he also made her want to scoot around to his side of the booth, cup his face in both hands and French kiss him until he gave up his ridiculous plan. “So let’s say everybody agrees that a clearly defined policy concerning touching is the way to proceed, and one day you find Rylan and Miranda getting busy in the broom closet. What then?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “We don’t have a broom closet. We have a cleaning service.”

  “Okay, imagine they’re on that little couch in his office. You walk in to ask him a question and there they are in total violation of your recently instituted policy. Are you going to fire them? Make them take a pay cut?”

  “No, of course not.” His voice was strained. “But Rylan wouldn’t –”

  “Don’t be so sure. I think he likes her.”

  His color was still high but he soldiered on. “I think so, too, but she dated Frazer in college.”

  “She did? I didn’t know that. Was it serious?”

  “Semi. I don’t know the particulars of the breakup and Frazer insisted he’d be fine hiring her as a consultant. But he might not be fine if his brother started dating her.”

  “Then maybe there’s no current office romance to worry about, but how global are you going to make this policy? What about two people going out for cof
fee? Or pizza, for that matter? Will that be against the rules?”

  “Of course not!”

  With deliberate intent, she reached across the table and covered his clenched fist with her hand. “Exactly. You can’t legislate your employees’ social life and people who socialize touch each other. It’s going to happen.” His hand felt warm and strong beneath hers. As she looked into his eyes, her pulse kicked into high gear. She’d seen that intensity before but only when he was excited about a new tech gadget. “See what I mean?”

  “Yeah.” His voice had a gravelly texture that was very unlike him.

  “Take this dinner we’re having, for example.” She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand and his eyes darkened. Unless she was mistaken, her touch excited him. “When we leave, you’d probably help me with my coat.”

  His breathing had changed, too. “Probably.”

  “Surely that wouldn’t be a violation of the policy.”

  Holding her gaze, he drew a deep breath. “Depends on how I do it.”

  “And how I feel about how you do it.”

  “Obviously.” He sighed. “Charlotte, I –”

  “Pizza’s here!” A waiter arrived.

  She pulled her hand away and silently cursed the interruption. She didn’t know what Tony had been about to say, but it might have been really important.

  “Sorry it took so long, you guys, but we’re slammed tonight.” The waiter was all smiles and congeniality as he set down a metal trivet to hold the pan. “We put on extra olives and mushrooms to make up for it.”

  The moment was gone, so Charlotte decided to leave the subject alone for now. She had some ideas about how Tony could solve this HR dilemma, but she decided now wasn’t the time to discuss them. “Great.” She pulled a paper napkin out of the holder and spread it on her lap. “I’m starving.”

  The waiter set the pan on the trivet. “Enjoy!”

  She stared at the pizza. Then she blinked and looked again. No mistake. The pizza was definitely in the shape of a heart.

  Chapter Three