Page 47

Because we hadn’t texted, joked around, or really spoken to each other in any way, I was even more surprised when she decided to rip me apart this morning.

I was giving a quick presentation to Mary and Zaid’s teams. We were in one of the conference rooms surrounded by glass walls. I knew my presentation was boring but mandatory, so I tried to make it not mind-numbing so that employees would appreciate a meeting that couldn’t have just been an email.

Personally, I thrived when I had background noise of some kind. If the room was too quiet and monotonous, I struggled to stay focused. It was part of my brand, the fun relatable CTO that’s just like everyone else.

I didn’t think that adding popular pop music would be so controversial.

“Do you think playing songs like that for your employees during a meeting sets a good example?” Jacqueline was glaring up at me, her company iPad tucked to her chest with both arms, and one hip popped out.

She had two strands of hair framing her face today, which was unusual whenever she wore her hair in a tidy bun like this.

“I think it’s fine,” I replied as I crossed my arms, glaring down at her as well.

I was so tired of this fucking shit.

“Why on earth would you think that’s fine? That song has so many expletives I lost count,” Jacqueline rolled her eyes with her reply.

“Because we’re all grown adults,” I threw my arms out, glancing over my shoulder to see half of the engineers were pretending this conversation wasn’t happening outside of the conference room, whereas the others were intently staring to watch the show, “There was not a single word in that song that hasn’t been uttered in this office before.”

“Byyou, you mean,” Jacqueline threw back.

“By everyone!” I pinched the bridge of my nose and inhaled, praying to anything to give me peace so I didn’t rip that stupid iPad out of her arms and angrily snap it in half, “Jesus Christ, isn’t it exhausting being this kind of person, Jacqueline?”

She had her mouth open, ready to retort with something before she froze at the end of my sentence.

Jacqueline snapped her mouth shut, her eyes widening a little bit, “What person?”

“The kind of person who is constantly on everyone’s arse. Honestly, are my employees coming to you to complain about my behavior? Or about what slang I throw around in the office?”

Jacqueline frowned, before glancing to the side toward the conference room full of people watching this whole thing.

All the engineers who were practically missing their bowls of popcorn suddenly turned in their chairs and looked very busy on their phones and laptops.

“Because if there are employees who file complaints about me, the music I play in the office, or the language I use, then yes. I will do better. Butcome onJacqueline,” I lowered my voice, realizing I was getting more heated than I needed to, “It feels like all the issues here are yours and yours alone.”

Jacqueline flinched.

I thought Jacqueline had been treating me with a cold, unfeeling nature before, but that was nothing compared to what I saw come over her now. I stood there, glaring down at our human resources rep, and saw in real time how each piece of her mask slid into place. The tightening of her eyes. The natural downturn of her lips. The way her body stiffened and her shoulders inched higher.

It wasn’t until I started to see her eyes get red, a small glassy layer filming them, that I realized I had said something horribly wrong.

“Jacqueline—”

“You’re right,” her voice was flat. It felt robotic, unfeeling, numb, “I’m the issue.” I stood there, the anger and frustration in me slowly starting to simmer when I heard her murmur, “As always.”

And then she turned and marched back to her office.

I groaned, scraping a hand down my face before turning back into the conference room. An oddly quiet conference room, considering the number of employees inside.

I looked up to meet too many curious eyes, before I shook my head and marched to the front to gather my laptop, “This meeting is canceled. I’ll send an email summarizing things instead.”

I heard the slow, unsure squeak of chairs moving, “I thought this was mandatory?” A newer intern asked, clearly nervous to voice his question.

“I decided that it isn’t.” I slammed my laptop closed and stood tall to face the room, “And I apologize if my music was inappropriate. If anyone here felt uncomfortable, I’d encourage you to meet with Jacqueline about it.”

“Oh, please,” Mary stood as she gathered her things as well, “No one here was upset, right?” She glanced around the room, where many head nods took place, “That song has been trending for weeks. We all listen to it in our earbuds at our desks. It’s fine.”

I nodded once, annoyed that Mary’s words didn’t make me feel better.