A Perfect Night
By Adalind White
www.adalindwhite.com
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Text copyright © 2016 Adalind White
All Rights Reserved
Contents
Chapter 1 – A perfect choice
Chapter 2 – Barbie meets Ken and Ken
Chapter 3 – Cube, the power of 3
Chapter 4 – The bad day and the bright boy
Chapter 5 – Kiss and tell
Chapter 6 – The most important days of the year
Chapter 7 – Clearing the air
Chapter 8 – The good boy and the bright idea
Chapter 9 – A Perfect Night
Chapter 1 – A perfect choice
“Burning the midnight oil,” Barbara ‘Bobbi’ Blackstone said with a resigned sigh watching the date changing on the screen. “Almost literally.”
“The closest we ever got to an oil lamp was in Assassin’s Creed,” her assistant said rolling her eyes.
“You really don’t have to stay,” Bobbi said.
“Will you stop that?” Taya replied. “I can’t let you waste away at your new desk, in your new office, agonizing over the perfect choice.”
She was right. Bobbi knew that she could waste hours obsessing over details. She closed the presentation and dragged the thousandth file to the “Serviceable” folder. Bobbi loved Rogue Games with fiery passion and “serviceable” wasn’t good enough. The huge TV screen played a perpetual loop of video game trailers developed by their company to remind her of the stakes of her choice.
“Thank you,” she said.
Taya grinned and her sapphire blue eyes sparkled as she winked and pointed at the opened door. The metallic plaque proclaiming B. Blackstone, Head of PR flickered along with the game trailer.
“The better you do; the better I do. Last week I was a lowly intern, and now I’m the personal assistant of the head of PR for Rogue Games,” Taya said.
The blonde hair of the former lowly intern was pinned up in that negligent chic style that suited her so well, and looked like a golden crown. Bobbi’s brittle smile conveyed a small part of the gratitude she felt for her young friend’s support.
Most presentations were perfectly… serviceable. The “Good” folder had only two, both excellent in every way, and both predictable as gravity. Her “The One” folder was still empty. She pinched the bridge of her nose, then opened another presentation.
“1001,” she said through gritted teeth.
The cooling coffee on the desk gave off a smell of exhaustion. Bobbi pushed away the sensation. She decided that she would make her choice before dawn. Taya’s presence ensured that she would not go through all the files again. A second look never worked out well. Always go with your gut.
She was on the third page when her heart sang: The One.
As she read, her heart pounded against her chest wall. Cube had little experience in the field, but that didn’t matter. Bobbi’s gift for spotting talent was legendary. Running the PR department was secondary to her true mission: head hunter. Her main task in the new position was to liaise with whatever PR company she chose while they did the heavy lifting. She had to make the perfect choice that would allow her to focus on talent scouting.
She tugged at her side ponytail as she read aloud.
“Ken Hunt. 24 years old, Harvard Business School, Strategy Director for Cube since… 2 months ago.”
In her mid-twenties herself, Bobbi had a healthy respect for age and experience but she knew in her bones that talent could shine long before time allowed it to manifest. The best proof was the sixteen-year-old Mozart of the graphics whom she hired with special dispensation, and her nineteen-year-old assistant now looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and awe.
The man on the screen had brown eyes with honey hues, like her own. He watched the two women from behind nerd chic glasses. A shadow of a smile played on his thin lips. His unruly dark blond hair was similar in color to Bobbi’s long silken mane. She twirled her hair around her finger, repressing the urge to comb his to tame the frizz.
“Ken Harrington,” she said, skimming through the second profile. “27. Born in UK. Harvard. Masters in Paris. Background in television. Creative Director of Cube for 8 months.”
The photo looked straight out of a male model’s portfolio. His haircut was perfect. Not a single strand of his sleek, black hair was out of place. An arrogant smile tugged a corner of his mouth upward, and glinted in his café noir eyes. His features seemed vaguely inhuman in their perfection.
She looked at Taya, but no words were needed. The young woman had already picked up Bobbi’s enthusiasm. They browsed through their social media, and got confirmation of what her instinct had already revealed. They were plugged into the mindset of RG’s core customers. They had a massive following that hit the sweet spot of their target market.
“They’re cute,” Taya said.
Bobbi shrugged. “I’m open minded. I won’t hold it against them.”
Her assistant smiled, then frowned when she realized that Bobbi was serious. Bobbi’s eyes lingered on Paris-educated male-model Ken’s lips, and Taya proved once again that she might have mind-reading abilities.
“Are French kisses a misnomer? Like French fries. Or are they really good at kissing over there?”
“It’s based on the stereotype of the French being great lovers. They used to call it un baiser avec la langue. Or a Florentine kiss. The French label just stuck I guess.”
“Aren’t you just a fountain of knowledge,” Taya said.
“Yes, well, I have the theory down pat,” Bobbi said and opened the RG database.
Taya shook her head. It was just like Bobbi to know all the theory about something and still not have a lick of practice. All work and only video game play made Bobbi a dull girl. Her assistant would never be so blunt as to tell her, but she probably thought the new head of PR needed to get laid in real life from time to time. In the ten months the two women had known each other, Bobbi had had five first dates, two second dates and one – cancelled – third date.
“Oh My God,” Bobbi said. “These go back for years.”
“You’re looking at their game stats? Isn’t that kind of invading their privacy?”
“They included their handles in the proposal,” Bobbi said, scrolling again to their profiles. “They’re gamers and they want us to know.”
That piece of information clicked into place and sealed the deal for her. The rest was a formality. They sped through the last twenty proposals in less than an hour.
“Book a room for the first open time slot on mine and Grant’s calendar,” she told Taya.
She thought about contacting the two companies in the “Good” folder while her assistant logged on to the system, but decided against it. Her instinct pointed toward this company.
“Done,” Taya said a few moments later. “Tuesday. 11 am. Shadow Arena.”
She fell asleep that night wondering if their names had influenced her. Barbara was a Blackstone family name. Everyone called her Barbie as a child. In college, she reinvented herself as Bobbi, and never looked back, but in the deepest recesses of her heart, she would always have a soft spot for guys named Ken.
The next day, she e-mailed the CEO, and fought back the tendency to doubt her choice when her mistrust of hot guys reared its ugly head. Ever since she hit puberty and developed curves in all the right places, Bobbi learned that hot guys could be shallow, self-centered and entitled.
Grant Whitmore’s reply was succinct. “Let’s sign them.”
“He’s desperate to avoid another meeting,” Bobbi told Taya. “With all the
sympathy in the world for his schedule, talk to his assistant to make sure he shows up for the meeting.”
Picking up on frauds was a side effect of her super power to spot talent. She trusted her instinct to extract value from sheer data, but she and Grant had to meet them in person. Because no matter how badass her radar was, Grant was light years ahead of her when it came to reading people.
Chapter 2 – Barbie meets Ken and Ken
An hour before Cube’s first presentation, Taya shuffled into her office. A clear sign that her tall blonde and gorgeous assistant had bad news.
“Whaaaat?” Bobbi asked.
“You have to talk to the Werewolves,” Taya said.
“F-laming fire of Philleriel,” she said, opting for a less pedestrian curse.
“Philleriel doesn’t technically start with an “f”,” Taya said. “But a nice alliteration nonetheless,” she added at Bobbi’s murderous look.
“Where are they?” she asked, glancing at the clock. She had twenty-five minutes to deal with the crazy team that worked on the Rogue Werewolves. Maybe she could make it in time.
“In Titan.”
She grabbed her tablet and rushed to the Titan Colosseum, formerly known as conference room five. The Rogue Werewolves game was due to launch in two months, which made it prime time for her software engineers to seesaw between panic attacks caused by insecurity and leaps of blind, mad self-confidence.
On her way to Titan, she consulted her notes. Best way to help with their mental health was to have list of possible panic pretexts and deft devices to defuse them. That file read like a long sad diary of whining. She had to out-panic them before the pendulum swung from anxiety to invincibility or the other way. Their well-being held top priority, so once she stepped in the room, Cube was out of her mind until her tablet pinged eleven. Fortunately, she had smoothed out the worst of it.
“Right, guys. Get back to the Forests of Blood Vale. I’ll come by at four to see if you got over this hump.”
She disliked it when people were late for meetings was, but if that person happened to be the organizer, loathing was a mild description for her feelings. When she walked into Shadow Arena, a room meant for at most fifteen people, all heads turned to her. Bobbi’s heart thudded and her cheeks flushed, but she smiled and nodded a silent hello. Her hope that she could sneak in, and sit at the back without being noticed went out the window when she saw the empty chair across from Grant at the other side of the room.
The Cube guys had paused when she walked in, but they recovered and seized the attention of the audience by the time she sat down in the front row.
From up close, they were more than just cute. They were downright hot, but in very different ways. It felt unfair to number them as Ken 1 and Ken 2. The height difference between them wasn’t striking enough to warrant tall Ken/short Ken labels. The build was pretty similar so no fat Ken/skinny Ken either.
She studied other aspects of their physical appearance. The speaker’s voice drew her out of her musings. Strong, cultivated, passionate. She wanted to close her eyes, and savor it. The melodious tone, the fire she could hear under the tone, the cadence of the words caressed her ears like velvet on her skin.
“Rogue Games is building a reputation for stunning graphics, intricate storylines and mind blowing endings. We can attest that RG games are engaging to the point of addiction, and we have about a million friends who feel the same. Best of all, we can tell what they want next because we are a part of that demographic.”
She focused on the silent one. He was about three inches taller, thin, with a guarded expression. His eyes sparkled with mischief behind his glasses, barely contained underneath the perfectly serious exterior. The blondish and slightly frizzy hair identified him as Ken Hunt. He exuded a quiet confidence that drew her attention.
“If it sounds like the lunatics are taking over the asylum, that’s because we are,” Ken Hunt said.
His voice was nasal, and his delivery more subdued. A guy who didn’t get excited easily, she noted to herself. They had great chemistry together and they played well off one another. Hunt was the restrained part of the dynamic duo, and his deadpan delivery consolidated his partner’s message.
The other Ken had the most perfect haircut she had ever seen on a human being. Hell, it looked better than she had seen on tons of the characters in video games. He was clearly an extrovert, assertive and engaging. His confidence bordered on arrogance and obviously they were aware of that.
They were killing it, and Grant turned to her. His smile and his approving nod meant the world to Bobbi. She beamed, relieved to have her choice vetted by Grant’s instincts. The guy had the business smarts to back up his dedication to the company, and she needed him to be proud of her. Besides, it never hurt that the big boss saw for himself that he could trust her to make good decisions.
Moments before the presentation was over, her tablet lit up and “Magus” appeared on the screen reminding Bobbi she had a report due. When the presentation ended, everyone stood up for the customary congratulations and hand shaking.
Ken Hunt was talking to Grant, so she approached Ken Harrington.
“That was great,” Bobbi said, shaking his hand. “Your knowledge of RG is impressive. I especially liked the part in which you promised to tell us the future.”
“Umm, thanks?”
Bobbi’s smile grew brighter. Ken Harrington sounding hesitant? She had stalked them on social media all weekend. She had looked through every event archive she could find, and she had never seen this guy anything other than oozing confidence.
“Absolutely brilliant,” Taya said.
The man seemed to snap out of his moment of diffidence.
“Thanks,” he said and turned on the full power smile Bobbi had seen in her research.
She left them with Taya and Grant, and went to her new office, satisfied that her exit had been far more discreet than her entrance. That corner office had cost her many sleepless nights, long weekends, and the annihilation of any shreds of personal life, but when she sat at her desk, glancing at the panorama of the city below, she felt it was all worth it.
“Back to work, Bobbi,” she told herself.
Every new launch had a ton of work behind, and their new stealth RPG was no different. Part of it was external, and soon that part was going to be outsourced to Cube. The most time consuming part was taking care of the project team. They were a weird bunch and she knew that better than most after her college years studying engineering. She ended up in a more managerial and HR-related role but she’d always be an engineer at heart.
Her head snapped up at the unexpected sound of a soft knock on her door. No one ever knocked because her door was always open, and not just metaphorically. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw who was leaning on the door frame.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Ken Hunt from Cube. I wanted to say thank you, and I look forward to working with you.”
“Hi, Ken. Thank me for what?”
She held back the reflex to say her own name. He obviously knew who she was if he’d made it to her office, and his nose was inches away from her name on the door. His smile tickled something inside her. It was a mixture of cocky and lazy and yet the result was sincerity and sympathy. His tone conveyed the same honesty and reassurance.
“For trusting us. Grant told us it was your choice. I’ll make sure we live up to your expectations.”
Good thing she was still sitting because her knees turned to jelly. There was absolutely no trace of flirting in his tone but the swarm of butterflies in her stomach didn’t care. Maybe that got to her. Men constantly hitting on her or drooling over her was the norm since high school. At least at MIT, although everyone was a raging cauldron of hormones, they treated her as one of the guys. The corporate world felt like high school all over again. Her colleagues were pretty cool, but with clients, suppliers, partners, it often got uncomfortable. Especially, when she was headhunting. This guy was just being nice. He was grateful
without asking for anything in return.
“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. We brought you in on your own merit,” she said. “You were simply the best fit.”
Had he just smirked? He couldn’t be so juvenile as to take that as an innuendo. Whatever he was thinking, his voice had the same polite tone.
“Yes, we are.”
“Well, I look forward to be proven right about you.”
She tried to remain nice and polite, but this really nice and polite man standing calmly before her flustered Bobbi. He bowed his head and left. It took longer than usual to finish her reports that day. Strange thoughts popped up. An unexpected fluttering in her stomach kept distracting her long after he was gone.
Chapter 3 – Cube, the power of 3
The more Bobbi worked with them, the more she liked them. Cube was exactly what she expected and the two Kens were awesome. They came up with new concepts and fresh ideas, and the results made Rogue Games very happy. Their market-share soared and with the rise in popularity, RG’s expansion strategy became more aggressive.
Bobbi’s life got a hell of a lot easier since their perspective helped her predict the fears and assuage the insecurities of the creative staff, giving her more time to scout for talents.
On a regular Wednesday morning at Cube, a decadent coffee break followed a grueling scheduling session. They mapped the RG marketing strategy for that year’s E3. They deserved the basket of muffins, the French croissants, and other assorted pastries.
The Electronic Entertainment Expo was the biggest moment of the year for most companies in the video games industry. Months before game developers networked with hardware manufacturers to prepare new games for their consoles, and played mind games with their frenemies. Having Ken and Ken on the team had already lightened Bobbi’s load for that year.
Ken Harrington launched into one of his annoying and entertaining rants.
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