by Jenn Burke
Wait. No, this was good. “I don’t remember,” he admitted. “But you know what this means?”
“You need to spend less money on science fiction and more on your apartment?”
Aidan couldn’t even be mad at Nassim’s snobbishness. He wasn’t wrong. “No. It means I get to rediscover those movies, those books. That’s… that’s….” His smile widened.
“Pretty amazing,” Nassim finished.
“Can we take them back to your place?”
“Of course.”
“Yes.” Aidan fist-pumped, which made Nassim’s dark eyes twinkle with amusement.
“It’s good to see you enthusiastic.”
“Yeah,” Aidan breathed. “Yeah. It’s good to feel enthusiastic.” He’d wondered, after the coffee incident, if his supposition that he was an optimist was completely wrong. But with this development, he thought his original impression was right.
The world was conquerable, even if only by one characteristic at a time.
Chapter Three
AIDAN’S first view of the front of his workplace was less than impressive. Though his memory of the back of the building was fuzzy with stress and panic, he remembered it was a low building, not a skyscraper, and fairly large. It was plain and unadorned, but it was the back, not the side that faced the public or potential customers.
The front, though, had no more personality than the rear.
It had the same brown brick and black roof cladding he remembered. The building was taller than he’d thought, almost two stories, but he saw no second-story windows to indicate there was actually a second floor. On the top right corner sat an unremarkable sign that read Tuninas Software with the silhouette of a dragon.
A little on the nose, but whatever.
It made no sense. Nassim’s penthouse, the car he drove, the fact that he sometimes had a town car and driver at his disposal, for God’s sake, even the clothes he wore all pointed to a being who knew that image meant something in the corporate world. So why would he pick such an unimpressive locale for his company? Aidan could kind of understand why Tuninas was in Kanata and not downtown Ottawa—the western suburb of Ottawa was Canada’s version of Silicon Valley. But they weren’t even in a nice part of Kanata. They were in an area with crappy little strip malls and abandoned office buildings that hadn’t found new tenants after the tech bubble burst in the early 2000s.
Nassim pulled his Mercedes into a spot reserved for him near the front walkway and led Aidan into the building. Aidan pulled at his shirt as they stepped through the glass doors, feeling nowhere near as put-together as Nassim. Nassim wore yet another perfectly tailored suit, this one in burgundy, with a pink-and-gray-striped shirt and a fuchsia tie. On anyone else, Aidan thought the outfit would be too flashy, but Nassim made it work. He certainly looked better than Aidan did, in his plain gray dress slacks and pale blue button-down. The fit of the clothes felt weird, like he wasn’t used to wearing them. Which was ridiculous because clearly he wore a variation on this outfit five days a week, more frequently than T-shirts and jeans.
Then they crossed the threshold into Tuninas Software’s offices, and Aidan had to revise his opinion about the company’s unimpressive locale.
Color was the first thing that struck him. The carpet was aubergine. The strangely angled wall to his left was lime green. The wall perpendicular to that was a slate gray, and yet another wall was a shade of purple a few hues lighter than the carpet. The reception desk was a huge curved thing made of brushed-silver metal and smoky glass and sported a giant arrangement of fresh multihued flowers on one corner. Behind the desk was an electronic billboard sharing company events. A “Welcome Spring!” picnic was to be held on the back lawn a week from Wednesday, a softball game was coming up later in the week, there was yoga at lunch today in the cafeteria, and sign-ups for this year’s ultimate frisbee team were coming soon. Next to the billboard, a neon sign flickered on.
This is where the magic happens, it declared in piercing red light.
A minute ago Aidan would have doubted that.
The man at the reception desk popped to his feet, his smile huge as he made his way around the desk. Aidan had a moment of déjà vu as he flashed back to the first figure he encountered when he emerged from the woods… trees. Whatever. This was…. Jasper was his name, wasn’t it? He was a slim man with sepia-colored skin and looked to be barely out of college. He had short, twisty, dark brown hair and was wearing dark skinny jeans, tan leather shoes, and a fitted button-down in pale pink. He all but barreled toward them, excitement plain on his face.
“Nassim, Aidan!”
Aidan couldn’t stop the flinch as he braced himself for impact. Stupid, so stupid. He had nothing to be afraid of. Jasper’s smile was genuine, his expression open and welcoming. He quickly clued in to Aidan’s reluctance and immediately stopped and held up his hands in a totally nonthreatening manner.
“Still no memory, huh?” he asked gently.
“Nope,” Aidan admitted with a weak smile.
“Eh, memories are overrated.” He held out a hand. “Jasper Moore.”
Aidan took the offered hand. “Aidan—” He rolled his eyes. “You know that already.”
“Yeah, I do, but man, it’s good to see you. You’re looking a lot better than last Friday.”
Aidan’s smile slipped into a self-deprecating smirk. “At least I’m wearing clothes now, huh?”
Jasper chuckled and looked at Nassim. “How was your day off, boss?”
Day off?
“Productive,” Nassim stated.
“Wait.” Aidan frowned. “This isn’t Monday?”
Jasper shook his head. “Yesterday was Monday. And boss man here decided to take a day off. Not working from home, mind you, but completely off. That never happens.”
“Jasper.” Nassim’s voice was soft, but the growl was unmistakable.
Aidan’s eyes widened as he looked at Nassim. “You took the day off so you could chauffeur me to my shitty apartment?”
“You’re in my care,” Nassim said, his voice rumbly. “I take that responsibility seriously.”
“Yeah, but….” They could have gone after work. Aidan could have gone on his own. There were a thousand reasons Nassim didn’t have to take the day off. “You should have told me.”
Nassim shrugged. “A day away from the office will not throw my company into ruin.”
“Wait. Can I record that?” Jasper’s light brown eyes twinkled, and he wasn’t at all deterred by the low growl that emerged from Nassim’s throat. “I rescheduled your two p.m. to tomorrow, but Harshad insisted on seeing you today.”
Nassim let out a groan, his head falling back. “He wants me to dig up the receipts from my trip to Seattle last month.”
“Hey, dude, he warned you that if you didn’t produce them, he’d turn your office upside-down himself.” Jasper grinned, showing absolutely no sympathy for Nassim’s put-upon expression.
“I know.”
“So should I tell you that there’s a betting pool going?”
“Merry gods.”
Jasper pulled out his phone and tapped through a few screens. “Mylène thinks Harshad will find the receipts in fifteen minutes. Julie says it’ll take him three hours.”
“My office isn’t that—”
“Darcy thinks they’ll never be found.”
“That’s not—”
“Samir thinks you’ll find them.” Jasper looked up for a second. “Ha.”
“I’ll fire you all.” But the threat was delivered without any heat or seriousness, and there was even a smile lurking on Nassim’s lips.
“Harshad says—”
“Wait, Harshad entered the pool?”
“Well, yeah, it’s not like we said he couldn’t. Anyway, he’s down for—” He snorted.
Nassim rolled his eyes. “Okay, come on, out with it.”
Jasper cleared his throat and read, “Harshad Gupta. Twenty dollars Kader accidentally breathed fire on the receipts
and burned them up.”
Nassim arched a brow. “He’s a comedian, I see. Perhaps I should encourage him to apply for a position at a comedy club?”
“If you tell him that’s where the receipts are, he might go voluntarily.”
That drew an honest-to-God chuckle from Nassim. It was unbelievable how relaxed he was here, how content. It was all but rolling off of him, which was weird in and of itself, that Aidan could almost feel the emotions. He pushed the knowledge aside, chalking it up to hyperawareness of the one person who’d stepped up for him in his time of need.
Aidan reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, complete with the wad of twenties Nassim had all but shoved at him earlier. He hated taking money from him, but what else could he do until he recovered access to his bank accounts? Despite his initial reluctance to take the money, he felt absolutely no guilt as he peeled off a bill and handed it to Jasper.
“What would I bet?” he asked Nassim and Jasper.
They shared a look, and Nassim said, “You’d bet on me.”
Aidan held his gaze, noting how the light from the banner behind the front desk sparkled like stars against Nassim’s black irises. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said, suddenly certain, and turned back to Jasper. “I’d bet on me finding them.”
Jasper’s smile grew so wide it had to hurt, and Aidan knew he’d picked the right option. Jasper plucked the bill from Aidan’s fingers. “You got it. Boss, if you want to go and start tearing up your office to get a head start on Harshad, I can take Aidan on a tour.”
Nassim looked at Aidan for a moment and then inclined his head in tacit permission. “Get Thanh to watch the desk.”
“Will do.” Jasper nudged Aidan with his elbow, distracting him from the sight of Nassim walking deeper into the building, leaving him.
He resisted the urge to hug himself. Nassim wasn’t abandoning him, dammit.
“C’mon, then. Let’s reintroduce you to everyone.”
Aidan pulled on his internal store of optimism and smiled. “Sounds like fun.”
Jasper chuckled. “It’s better than getting teeth pulled.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Right. Well… take my word for it.”
Aidan bit back a groan.
TUNINAS Software was actually pretty freaking cool.
The company focused on software for mobile devices—not so much apps that people could download for fun, but stuff for interconnectivity, programs to allow devices to connect to the internet of things—cars, fridges, TVs, and so on—and to let those interconnected things talk to each other. They’d recently inked a deal with a major car brand to incorporate their software—the article Aidan had read yesterday—which meant the world was one step closer to a fridge sending a message to a car that the driver would need to stop to get milk.
“I mean, you could have the message go to your phone too,” Jasper said. “But this way we’re getting away from the temptation to pick up the phone while you’re driving. Basically we’re making the car smarter, as smart as your phone, instead of depending on the phone connecting fully with the car. Know what I mean?”
Kind of… not really. But clearly it was an innovative thing. “So how long have I worked here?”
“A few months. You started last November.”
“That’s it? But Nassim—” In the hospital he’d said Aidan had the company behind him. Aidan thought that meant he was a longtime employee. “Only six months?”
“Thereabouts. But you’re good at your job,” Jasper assured him. “You’ve made Nassim much more pleasant to be around, and that makes all of our lives easier.”
“I have?”
“You run interference for him a lot. He needs that.”
“Oh.” Whatever that meant.
The company wasn’t large. About 150 people worked in the Kanata office, with another 50 or so scattered worldwide as sales engineers and reps. Aidan didn’t miss the pride in Jasper’s voice as he recounted how Nassim’s guidance had led the company through both the dot-com tech meltdown in 2000 and the American recession in 2008 without huge losses. Apparently Nassim was the boss to end all bosses, an amazing CEO, and he inspired worship wherever he went.
All right, Jasper didn’t exactly say that, but it was implied.
“So… how old is Nassim?” Aidan tried to work out the math in his head. If Nassim started the company around 2000, he’d have to be at least forty, and that was only if he was a super genius who had funds and backing right out of university. It was more likely Nassim was getting closer to fifty, which made him… crap, double Aidan’s age?
Why did that not turn him off?
Jasper stopped in the middle of the hallway. “He’s a dragon.”
“Yeah, I know that,” Aidan said impatiently.
“Okay, so… you know they age differently, right?”
“They do?” Damn. Maybe Nassim was closer to sixty.
“They do. Most mythos do.” Jasper glanced at the end of the hall and then looked back at Aidan. “He doesn’t discuss it much, but he fought in the war.”
“In Iraq?”
“No—”
“In the nineties?” At Jasper’s headshake, Aidan’s gut lurched. Oh my God. Nassim was way older than he’d thought. “What, like Vietnam?”
“No, the war. The Human-Mythos War.”
Aidan’s mouth dropped open. “But that… that was three hundred years ago.”
“Which is why he doesn’t talk about it much. He….” Jasper scrunched up his nose. “I’m pretty sure you knew this before, so I’ll tell you again. But keep it on the down-low, okay?”
“What?”
“He lost his mate in the war.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I didn’t know dragons were like werewolves, with destined mates and whatever, but I guess they are. Nassim has never been with anyone else.”
Well… shit. Aidan hadn’t seriously been thinking about pursuing anything. There were too many reasons not to, but this was the biggest one of them all. Now that the possibilities in his head—and dreams, okay, he wasn’t going to lie—no longer even had a remote, ethereal chance of happening, he felt the loss keenly.
Which was dumb. But he guessed it had been kind of a comforting fantasy.
“How’d you find out about it?” Aidan asked.
“Not entirely sure,” Jasper said. “Company legend—”
“Legend? Now you’re bullshitting me.”
“Dude, our CEO is a dragon. If any company was going to have legends, it’d be this one.” Jasper chuckled. “Anyway, I think maybe his sister mentioned it back when the company was started or….” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Point is, he’s old. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s an excellent boss, and we all try to make his job—and life—easier.”
Aidan had seen evidence that Nassim wanted to do the same for his employees. There were quiet rooms for people who needed to shut out the world, and colorful and collaborative spaces with dry-erase walls to encourage brainstorming. The company offered significant perks, like unlimited vacation time that employees were prompted to actually use. Apparently Nassim was a big supporter of frequent long weekends to recharge the creative batteries, or longer once-in-a-lifetime trips to bring back new inspiration. All in all, Aidan figured that he was damned lucky to work for Nassim Kader despite a niggling doubt that he really hadn’t earned the privilege.
It had been growing with every new room Jasper showed him and every new fact he shared about the company. Of course Aidan couldn’t remember how he’d landed the job, and Jasper wouldn’t have that insight. He might be plugged in to the office gossip—something else he’d demonstrated multiple times throughout their tour, whispering who had hooked up with whom, who had broken up, who had gotten especially wild at company parties—but would he have those sorts of details? Aidan wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“Oh, and I have to show you the cave.”
“What?”
Jasper�
��s expression lightened. “I’m jealous. You get to rediscover it.”
“Uh….”
“C’mon. It’s good, I promise.”
“Jasper, are you done with the tour yet?”
They both turned at Nassim’s voice. He was standing in the doorway of an enclosed office and looking expectantly at the two of them. Aidan clued in that it must be his office, which would make the desk out front Aidan’s. Behind Nassim, in the interior of his office, a man of South Asian descent was rooting through a filing cabinet.
“I was just going to show him the cave.”
Nassim grunted. “The cave can wait. I need his help.”
Jasper ventured a few steps closer to Nassim, and Aidan followed. “You didn’t find the receipts yet?”
Another grunt. “No.”
Jasper smirked. “He’s not going to remember where they are.”
“I know that,” Nassim growled. Again it had no effect on Jasper’s demeanor. His grin didn’t falter. “But he can look through his desk while I help Harshad tear apart my office.”
Aidan nodded. “Sure, I can do that.”
“All right.” Jasper sighed. “Cave later?”
“Okay.” Though Aidan wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to. Whatever this cave was, Jasper seemed determined that Aidan should see it. It was probably a gaming room, like a mancave. Aidan bit back a groan that he could remember innocuous and unimportant bits of knowledge like that, but not his history.
Jasper gave him a jaunty wave and headed back to the front of the building, and Nassim disappeared inside his office, his focus clearly on the missing receipts. Aidan could hear him and Harshad sharing some low conversation, but he couldn’t make out much of it.
He had his own task, and that wasn’t to eavesdrop.
His desk was large and L-shaped, its sides and legs a brushed black metal topped with a real wood surface that should have looked incongruous in the modern space, but didn’t. There were a couple of comfortable-looking guest chairs in front and to the side of his desk, presumably so folks with an appointment with the CEO had somewhere to wait for his dragon-ness to deign to see them.
