Cinderella and the Geek (British Bad Boys)

by Christina Phillips

  Not that Blitz closes on the weekend. Besides Harry and Caleb, there’re always several programmers and developers on-site in case some catastrophe needs fixing.

  It’s not a career for them. It’s a way of life.

  “Hello, Earth calling Alice. Are you still here?”

  I drag my mind away from Harry and his nonexistent social life. Not that I condemn it, since mine is hardly any better.

  “He’s had a tragic past.” I sigh and cup my chin on my hand. “Apparently, he fell in love with a girl who broke his heart, and he’s never dated anyone since.” At least that’s the gossip according to Diane, who knew both Harry and Caleb from school. Personally, I can’t imagine how any girl could dump Harry, but I guess it takes all sorts.

  “And how long ago was that?”

  “He was eighteen.” Di, who was already working with Harry when I started, only shared this info with me a couple of months ago when we grabbed lunch together at the local sandwich bar. “She did a real number on him.”

  “Wait.” Hannah frowns, and I can almost hear the cogs turning in her brain as she adds things up. “He’s twenty-four now, right? He’s not dated in six years?”

  “I don’t know. He might have.” All I know for sure is he hasn’t been seeing anyone serious for the last eight months. “But his high school crush was the big one.”

  It’s just as well I don’t believe in romantic happily ever after, because how could anyone—let alone me—compete with something like that? Even if everything goes without a single hitch, all Harry’s ever going to be is a gorgeous, breathtaking never-to-be-repeated fling, so I’ve no idea why there’s a strange little pain worming its way through my chest.

  “Huh.” Hannah bites the top of her straw as she considers my answer. “That’s hardly conclusive evidence.”

  “They were together for almost a year.”

  “Whatever. I hope he knows what he’s doing. You don’t want some jerk who doesn’t have a clue where your G-spot is.”

  I’ve no idea where my G-spot is either, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t going to be a problem. “The bigger problem’s finding somewhere private. It’s all open plan at Blitz.” And the upstairs offices have glass walls, which leaves the bathrooms, and that doesn’t exactly fill me with glee.

  Hannah lets out a tortured sigh. “You really need to rethink this. And seriously, with all their money couldn’t they hire a conference room in some flash hotel for your leaving party? At least then you could sneak into a bedroom or something.”

  “No, it has to be in the warehouse. Otherwise, half of them wouldn’t be able to come.” We’ve had a few parties in the warehouse during the last eight months, and they’re surprisingly fun. Nobody’s left since I started, but there’s been a couple of twenty-first birthdays among other things.

  Hannah gives a delicate shudder. “You sound like that’s normal.”

  After working at Gorman, Rutledge, and Carpenter for three months, I know the passion everyone at Blitz shares for their work isn’t normal, but I sure know where I’d rather be.

  “There is one room that’s secure, though. The Development Testing Room.” Strange I hadn’t thought of it before, except my plans of real-life seduction and defloration are probably blasphemous when it comes to the DTR.

  “Are you shitting me? The Development Testing Room? It sounds like some kind of kinky sex dungeon thing.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You just have a perverted mind.”

  “It’s a good job one of us does. Otherwise, you’d die a virgin with a dozen cats.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with having a dozen cats.”

  We stare at each other for a couple of seconds before simultaneously giggling into our empty glasses.

  “Am I invited to this party? I think I need to check out Harry in the flesh. I mean, he looks hot in those pics you’ve taken of him at the other office parties, but you might’ve Photoshopped them.”

  “Trust me, I didn’t. And neither did Steele.” Although what that journalist was thinking with that article I don’t know. Correction, yes, I do. She wanted a ton of hits, and I’ll bet she got them, too.

  “Oh, come on, Alice. I get there’s tight security and everything, but can’t you fix it so I can at least see the inside of this mythical Blitz before you leave?”

  I could probably wrangle it without too much hassle, but I have this gnawing fear that if Harry sees Hannah, he’ll be so mesmerized I’ll no longer exist for him. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  …

  Harry

  Two days after the trip into London, Caleb and I get the news we’ve been waiting for, and I rap my knuckles on the open door to Alice’s office. “Total world domination, here we come.”

  She cups her chin in her hand and smiles at me the way she has a thousand times before, and my cock stirs. Jesus Christ. That’s a new development, and I hastily fling myself into the chair opposite her. Bad move. I think I crushed my nuts, and I grin gamely back at her while I try to relieve the pain without her noticing.

  “That’s fantastic.” There’s a husky note in her voice. What the fuck? Now I’m hearing things. “With Jarrod Holdings interested, you’ll be able to ease back on the crowd funding.”

  The ongoing crowd funding has taken on a life of its own, but I guess looking more long term, Alice is right. With the backing of Jarrod Holdings, one of the biggest gaming empires in the United States, our financial future would be secured. “Yeah, but that’s not all. Oscar Jarrod himself wants to meet Caleb and me and check out Blitz.”

  “Wow. That’s amazing. I thought he’d send one of his minions over.”

  I’ve been playing the RPGs Oscar Jarrod developed since I was twelve, and he’s a hero of mine. Everything he puts out becomes a Triple A Title. It was awesome enough that he showed interest in Blitz, but meeting him, to discuss the future of the company Caleb and I first envisioned six years ago, is taking it to a whole new level.

  “He plans on visiting the first week of October.”

  She pulls a face. “I won’t be here.”

  Shit. I’d temporarily forgotten that. “I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.”

  “You’d better. Oh, while you’re here”—she taps a couple of keys—“we need to set up a date to do interviews for my position.”

  If there’s one thing I hate doing, it’s interviews. Caleb and I have known nearly everyone who works here since we were at school, either in real life or from online connections, and we invited them to join us. Others were recommended, so the interview part of things is just a formality. In fact, Alice is the only one who went through so-called regular channels.

  “Pick a date. I’ll make sure Caleb’s available.”

  “You should both do the interviews. You’ll be working closely with whoever gets the job, so you need to know you click.”

  “Caleb interviewed you, and we click all right.”

  She glances at me and gives a small smile that for some reason looks kind of sad. “I suppose we do.”

  What does she mean by that? As far as I know, we’ve always got on, right from the first day she started. Strange, since it usually takes me a while to open up with new people, but with Alice it was like I’d known her forever.

  “What’s with the scowl?”

  Her question drags me back to the present. She’s always treated me like a good mate, and I’ve never had the vibe that she’s angling for an introduction to my brother, Lucas. My scowl deepens, since I have no fucking clue where I’m going with this.

  No one at Blitz cares about Lucas. Why did I suddenly think Alice might?

  “Ouch.” She’s laughing at me, and I force myself to grin back. What the hell’s wrong with me? “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll sit in during the interviews if you like.”

  Interviews, right. Better she thinks that’s the reason I’m acting like a prat rather than the real one, especially since I have no clue why the growing probability of never seeing her again
once she leaves for university is bugging me so much.

  It was always going to happen.

  Yeah, in the future. Not in five weeks and counting down.

  Chapter Four

  Harry

  The interview process is excruciating and not the way I’d planned on spending Friday. Alice doesn’t mess around when she decides to get something done, and yesterday afternoon she informed us she’d set up interviews already.

  I glance at Caleb, who’s slouched in a chair the other side of Alice, with an expression of trapped horror on his face. We’ve been at this all afternoon, and have only seen three applicants. And according to Alice, she has ten on her short list she wants us to vet before the end of next week.

  I shift restlessly and then freeze when the current interviewee pins me to the spot with her icy-blue eyes. She smiles, showing acres of gleaming white teeth and flutters her lashes at me. “Is there anything you want to ask me, Harry?”

  There’s a weird, breathless note in her voice that raises the hairs on the back of my neck. “No. Alice has it covered.”

  “I just wondered, since, if I land the position, we’d be thrown together an awful lot, according to Alice.” She crosses her legs, and her stiletto heels look deadly.

  Alice clears her throat and lines up three pens on her desk. “Well, thanks so much for coming in, Georgina. I think we have everything we need. We’ll be in touch soon.”

  Georgina treats us all to another blinding smile before rising from her chair and strolling toward the door like she’s on a catwalk. For a couple of seconds, none of us move a muscle, before Alice leaps to her feet and hurries after her. “I’ll, uh, escort you out…”

  Caleb lets out a tortured moan. “Do you think Alice would stay if we doubled her salary?”

  “I’d fucking triple it.” I’m not joking, but it’s never going to happen. “Who doesn’t like coffee?”

  Asking Georgina if she wanted a coffee was my entire contribution to the interview, only to be shot down in flames when she told us, in all seriousness, that she only drank green tea. Fair enough, except she then gave us a lecture on how bad caffeine was for a healthy lifestyle.

  I can’t even function without caffeine flooding my veins. I sure as hell don’t want someone in the next office giving me grief every time I take a hit.

  Alice returns to the office and lets out a long breath.

  “Honestly, you two could at least make an effort. I’m not qualified to do interviews on my own.”

  “You’re doing great.” Caleb checks his phone. “Is that the last one for today?”

  “Yes.” Alice glares at him before turning to me. “Well? What’s the verdict on Georgina?”

  “She’s well qualified.” But no more qualified than Alice, despite having a degree.

  “Hmm.” Alice doesn’t look convinced by my reply. “All the applicants I short-listed are well qualified. Can you please stop saying that every time I ask you what you think about them? You’re supposed to be helping me out here.”

  “All right.” She asked for it. “I read the ad you put out, and it’s comprehensive. But you missed out a lot, didn’t you?”

  “What? No I didn’t.”

  “What about all the times you help the guys with their customer skills? I didn’t see you telling any of the applicants you’re our unofficial HR manager.” Shit, until right now it hadn’t even occurred to me that’s what she does, but it’s true. Everyone goes to her when they have a problem, whether it’s work or social related. “Can you honestly tell me they’d be happy to take their problems to Georgina?”

  “So, you’re saying she wouldn’t fit in here, because she wears short skirts and has French tips?”

  “I don’t care what she wears. She doesn’t fucking like coffee.”

  There’s an electric silence for a second before Alice gives a smothered snort of laughter. “Wow, you’re such a snob.”

  “Fucking green tea.” Not that I’ve anything against it, since my sister’s into all kinds of herbal infusions, but whatever. “Blitz would grind to a halt if she banned caffeine.”

  “I really don’t think she’d try to do that.” For some reason, Alice appears to think it’s hilarious. “Anyway, okay. At least you’ve said something constructive that I can work with.”

  “What the fuck.” Caleb leans forward in his chair, his gaze fixed on his phone. “You won’t believe this.” And then he laughs.

  “Won’t believe what?” Alice hooks her arm over the back of his chair and peers over his shoulder. “Oh my God.”

  She looks up and stares at me in shock. “You’d better check your email, Harry.”

  Irritated and not sure why—it definitely has nothing to do with the fact Alice never drapes herself over me the way she does with Caleb—I check the Blitz email account.

  “It’s the one from that journalist who did the Steele article,” Caleb says. “You’ll piss yourself.” He laughs again, and this time Alice joins him, which doesn’t help improve my mood at all.

  The subject heading screams at me: Congratulations Harry! You’re a Finalist!!!!!

  A finalist? What the fuck are they on about?

  I open the email and skim the contents.

  “I’ve been nominated in their poll as Sexiest Geek of the Year?” I look at the other two as horror crawls along my spine. “Fucking spam.”

  “No, it’s totally legit.” Caleb appears to be enjoying this. “I just Googled, and this is the third year they’ve run the contest.”

  “I didn’t enter any contest.”

  Now Alice is on her laptop, checking out sources. “Apparently, it’s a big thing with their readers. They vote for their favorite interview guest. Wow.” She looks up at me. “No wonder that article was so skewed toward your, um, physical attributes.”

  “Should I be outraged here? I was in that interview as well.” Caleb doesn’t sound outraged. He sounds like he’s trying not to bust a gut laughing.

  I risk another quick skim, in case I missed something the first time. “They’ve invited me to an awards ceremony next weekend.” I drop my phone on Alice’s desk. No way in hell am I going to anything like that. “Tell them to sod off, Alice.”

  “It is short notice,” she concedes. “I’ll tell them you’re otherwise engaged that night.”

  “And miss out on all the fun of hordes of girl gamers wanting selfies with you?” My so-called best friend leers at me, and I give him the finger.

  “Why don’t you go as my proxy?” I shove my glasses back onto my head.

  “No fucking way.” Caleb sprawls back in his chair and contemplates the ceiling. “The thing is…” His voice trails off, but the amusement in his voice has vanished.

  “Hmm. Yes,” Alice says, as though she knows exactly what Caleb’s talking about. “I mean I know the piece they did on you was fluffy, but the byline was solid. It was still good publicity.”

  “You can’t seriously think this is a good idea.” It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

  “Well.” She chews her lip before meeting my gaze. “Steele has this two-pronged approach, which is why it has such broad appeal. I admit I didn’t really research it as well as I should’ve, because the interview was a bit of a shocker, but…” She pauses for dramatic effect. “It certainly didn’t do any harm when it came to Oscar Jarrod’s interest, did it?”

  “That’s low.” I sit on the edge of her desk and offer her a mock scowl. The problem is, she’s right. For all we know, that bloody article was the tipping point for him. Oscar Jarrod, besides being a genius, is also a media whore of the highest order.

  “This is the kind of publicity Jarrod loves,” Caleb says. “It won’t look good if you don’t turn up.”

  Although I doubt my absence at Steele’s annual awards ceremony would sway Oscar Jarrod’s mind about Blitz one way or another, Caleb plants a seed of uncertainty in my mind. “Shit.”

  “Looks like you’ll have to drag your tux out of storage.” He grins at m
e.

  “You have a tux?” Alice sounds amazed, not that I blame her. The last time I wore it was five years ago in Paris, when Mum was named European Laureate for her contribution to medical research.

  A familiar, dull ache grips my chest. Not going there.

  “Doubt it. It probably got thrown out years ago.”

  She folds her arms and leans back in her chair as she sweeps her gaze over me. “I can’t even imagine you in a tux.”

  “Not much call for it here.” I’ve never been that interested in fashion. Lucas is the one who pays attention to labels and thinks that spending eight hundred quid on a pair of jeans is okay. Not that he needs to buy anything these days with all the sponsorship deals he’s been signing.

  “You could always hire one for the night,” Caleb suggests. Helpfully. I give him a black glare, which he ignores. “Does this mean you’re going to accept?”

  I’d rather have a root canal. Sans anesthetic. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Nah. You’d better write a speech.”

  “I’m not giving a bloody speech.”

  Alice clicks her mouse a few times before looking up from her laptop. “You will if you win.”

  I give a mocking laugh as relief at that reprieve floods through me. “Yeah, and how likely is that?”

  “It’s possible. So, if you’re planning to go, Caleb’s right. You should sort out a speech.”

  Caleb leans across the desk and eyes whatever’s on Alice’s screen. “And a partner.”

  “A what?”

  “Unless you want to be mobbed all night by all the girls that voted for you.” Caleb flings Alice a grin, but she doesn’t return it. “Distinct possibility, according to what happened a couple of years ago to the unattached winner.”

  He’s jerking my chain, but I still can’t stop myself from stamping around Alice’s desk so I can see what they’re both reading. It’s a gossip piece from the awards night two years ago, and yep. Girls who don’t even look old enough to drink are draped over the winner in every photo, and he looks like he’s in cyber heaven.