by Leslie North
“No,” Brian rushed to say. “Not at all. It’s not—”
“What a rude, inconsiderate woman,” the prince went on.
“I agree,” he said. “Completely.”
“And you allow her to work here?”
Brian gritted his teeth. Connie was one of the best developers he’d hired. But she’d barely made it through the initial interviews without raising plenty of eyebrows in HR. Not because she was unqualified or inappropriate, but simply because she was too damn friendly. Almost nobody in the jaded tech bubble here could find it within their parched souls to actually enjoy interpersonal communication.
It was one of the reasons Brian had opted for the open floor plan in the developers’ area. To force a modicum of human interaction.
“She’s very good at what she does,” Brian began.
“That’s not worth your reputation,” the prince sniffed. The air between them tightened. Brian could sense the direction this was going, and his stomach pitched to his feet. “Your employees are like family. And your family must be honorable. Immaculate. Well controlled.”
Still, Brian thought he should continue as though he hadn’t just boarded a high-speed train heading for a brick wall. “Prince Yariz, your words are well-received and absolutely understood. Now, if you’ll follow me to the office, we can get the papers signed.”
The prince slowed, his face grave. Not an ounce of amusement anywhere. His words coming like slow motion daggers. “Mr. O’Leary, I’ve changed my mind.”
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