Nothing Personal (The Kincaids)

by James, Rosalind

  But above all, no camera could have caught the essence of him, the way he dominated any space he was in, the way he drew every eye.

  Charisma. From the Greek for “divine favor,” the gift of the gods. To call it “charm,” as some of the articles had, wasn’t enough to express its effect in the confined space of a conference room. Alec was talented, no doubt about it. But it was the flash of his smile, the way he seemed to be looking just at you, the way you wanted him to keep looking, to hold his attention, the way you couldn’t stop looking. That was what had rocketed him to stardom, or at least the tech world’s version of it. In an industry dominated by former geeks, he stood out like a poppy in a field of dandelions.

  No, she hadn’t quite expected all of that. And scrambling over the floor of the coffee shop hadn’t been her best moment, though she thought she’d come out of the encounter reasonably well. He’d seemed more flustered than she had, oddly enough. And he’d certainly been more flustered at the meeting, which was understandable. He’d had a shock.

  And he hadn’t recognized her. Their previous meetings had clearly had more effect on her than on him. And she’d changed more. That was putting it lightly.

  “Ewww. That is so sad.”

  Desiree heard the low-voiced exclamation, the giggles coming from the group of girls lounging on their towels on the grassy bank of the Bidwell Park swimming pool, just above where she had waded in, needing the shock of cold water after her sweaty bike ride. She didn’t pay much attention. Not until she heard the boy’s voice raised above the girls’ laughter.

  “Paging Chewbacca. Come in, Chewie.”

  The giggles increased then, accompanied by a loud masculine laugh. Desiree glanced at the group clustered near the water’s edge. Four or five girls, wearing the kind of cute bikinis she’d eyed wistfully in store windows, on equally cute figures. She’d bet they had called around, coordinated their outfits beforehand. Senior girls, probably. Clustered close to the knot of boys she saw here every time, as far out of her league as movie stars.

  Although she’d never seen that one before. In the center of everything, shaggy dark hair hanging straight around features that were almost too pretty, but not quite. She could see that even without her glasses, not to mention the deeply tanned skin on a tall, slim physique that looked more Hollywood than high school, and had already had her sneaking glances in his direction.

  They were the popular kids, the ones she’d seen before, hanging out at the pool as they did on just about every August day here in Chico, with the mercury beginning its steady climb toward the hundred-degree mark. Nothing new there, except that he was new. But not new like her. Not gangling and awkward and left out. They all knew him. And if they were the royal court, he was their king.

  And every one of them was looking at her. The girls whispering and giggling again, most of the boys grinning. Desiree gave a quick glance down at the loud floral pattern of her one-piece, with its ruffle over the bodice that, her grandmother had assured her, made her lanky frame look curvier. She could tell her face was flaming, wanted nothing more than to be invisible, to sink into the ground and vanish without a trace. Because the prickling down her arms made it clear that something was very, very wrong. Please, God, let her not have started her period without realizing it.

  She hadn’t. But it was just about as bad. She realized to her horror that a couple stray—but very obvious—copper-colored curls were peeking around the bottom edge of the suit.

  “We know she’s a natural redhead, anyway. And, hey, gotta love a Nature Girl.” That was the comedian of the group again, a beefy blond, the source of the loud laugh Desiree had heard earlier.

  She didn’t wait to hear more. She waded further into the river water, struck out with a breaststroke that carried her away from the group, and then concentrated on swimming back and forth across the extensive area, as wide as several pools. Letting the movement and the cool water carry away her humiliation, and the burning sting of her tears.

  And that had been a very long time ago. Time to let it go. Desiree lifted the phone, punched buttons.

  “Hi, honey,” she heard after the third ring. “How did it go?”

  “It went fine,” she said, her heart soothed as always at the enthusiasm in the voice at the other end. “All neat and tidy, contract signed on the bottom line. It’ll be a good challenge for the next year or so, anyway, getting this thing up and running. And a pretty good signing bonus too. You sure you don’t want to go to Hawaii this year? Lie by the pool in the sunshine and let some handsome young cabana boy bring you daiquiris?”

  She heard the raspy laugh that always reminded her of the smoky taste of whisky, followed by the ever-present cough that came straight from the cigarette pack. “Oh, honey, what in the world would I do in Hawaii? I like Reno just fine. You keep sending me there, and I’m more than happy. Marti and I can’t wait to get our hands on those poker machines next week. The Silver Legacy had better watch out, because I’m feeling lucky.”

  Desiree had to laugh herself. “They’ve probably got your picture up already in their security area. All primed to escort you out when you start winning big. All right, then. But if you ever decide you want to go someplace more exotic, you just tell me.”

  “If I get a hankering for the pool boy, I’ll let you know,” her grandmother assured her. “But what did Alec say when he found out? I didn’t talk to Pastor Dave about it, because you said not to, but oh, Lord, it’s been hard to keep that secret. I still think it’s too bad Alec’s not a doctor like his brother, but I know he’s done real well. Was he excited to be working with you?”

  “Let’s say he was able to contain his enthusiasm. I was pretty much foisted on him, I told you that.”

  “But he has to know that you’re the best,” Dixie argued. “The way you’ve had all those articles written about you and everything.”

  “I don’t think he’s read those,” Desiree tried to explain. “I’m not as much of a celebrity as you think, Grandma. The guys with the ideas, the entrepreneurs like Alec, they’re the big stars.” And some of them were meteors, streaking across the sky.

  “Well, I’m proud of you,” Dixie said firmly. “What’s the name of the company again?”

  “AI Solutions. It’s kind of a little joke. AI stands for Assisted Integration, but everybody in the industry thinks of it as ‘artificial intelligence.’ The way computers think, like in the movies. And that’s about all I can tell you right now, because it’s all still a big secret.”

  “AI Solutions. I like it,” her grandma decided. “It’s got a classy sound to it, doesn’t it? That’s just great, honey. Go buy yourself something to celebrate. I meant to tell you, Target has some real good deals on sheet sets right now. But only till this weekend, then the sale’s over.”

  Desiree smiled. Man, she loved her grandmother. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll do that. What about you? Do you need anything?”

  “Not a thing. I’m good.”

  “All right, then. Just let me know if that changes. Love you.”

  “Love you too, honey. Congratulations again. Oh, can I talk about it to Alec’s folks on Sunday? And tell the girls, tomorrow night at pinochle? And say the name?”

  “You can talk about it. The name’s not a secret, and I’m officially on board, so you can talk about me too. I’ll let you go. Lots to do. Talk soon.”

  She hung up, put the phone back in her purse, and headed north to catch the light across Market Street. She’d take a detour on the way home, she decided. Walk through Union Square, look in the Scheuer Linens windows, maybe even buy a sheet set after all. It wasn’t quite Target, but it would do.

  Alec Stays Out of Trouble

  “I’m not excited.”

  That was Joe. The words were flat, Joe’s light blue eyes cold, his mouth unsmiling. The least animated person in the crowded, noisy wine bar. The place to be on Friday night, and the last place Alec felt like being right now.

  “Want to go up to my place to talk
about this?” Alec asked.

  “What?” Brandon asked, his shorter frame perched one stool over, thighs splayed aggressively, eyes roving. “And miss out on the window displays? Dude, what happened to you up in Iowa?”

  “Idaho,” Alec corrected.

  Brandon waved a dismissive hand, sent an appraising glance toward a young Asian woman standing with a couple friends next to a window, where they could be seen by the passing pedestrian traffic. Short skirt, long glossy hair, high heels. “Whatever.”

  He shoved a cuff up on the close-fitting dress shirt he wore over his perfectly distressed jeans and nudged the floor with an Italian-loafered toe, edged back on the stool and hit Alec with an elbow. “Nine o’clock,” he muttered.

  Alec glanced at the woman, smiled as she reached a hand up to touch her hair. Bingo.

  He turned back to Joe. “I know you’re not happy. Hell, I’m not happy either. But face it, we’re stuck with her.”

  “You’re telling me you couldn’t work your mojo on the board,” Joe challenged. “Did you even try, yesterday? Or today, for that matter?”

  Alec shook his head. “Move on. It’s a done deal. And she’s good. I checked her out.”

  “I checked her out too,” Brandon said. “Major ice queen. Give me a few weeks, though, bet I could melt that.”

  “On the team,” Alec reminded both of them. “Get used to it. Get behind it. We have no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Joe said. “She could quit.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Alec ordered. “She’s already looking for office space, lining up staff. It’s been one day, and she’s on it.”

  “She’s not hiring programmers,” Joe said with alarm. “You and I are doing that.”

  “Relax,” Alec told him. “I worked out the reporting lines with her today. Look at it this way. She’s going to take care of the scut work none of us wants to do, and she’ll do it better than we would too. Win-win.”

  “Sounds to me like she’ll be bird-dogging us,” Joe growled. “Watching. Handing out employee manuals and making us sign sexual-harassment policies. All the crap we started working together to get away from.”

  “So you watch a video, sign a piece of paper,” Alec said impatiently. He was more than done discussing this. “You don’t have to worry your pretty head about the lease, that’s the main point.”

  “My pretty head never did worry about that,” Joe said, a reluctant grin finally breaking the frost in the craggy lines of his bearded face. He ran a hand over his smooth expanse of scalp. “That was your pretty head.”

  “Exactly,” Alec pounced. “That’s exactly it.” Although he could already tell that she was going to frustrate the hell out of him, in more ways than one.

  He’d met her at a café that afternoon, as arranged. She’d already been there when he’d arrived, seated at a table with her coffee and laptop in front of her. Advantage to her, right there.

  “First of all,” he began when he’d got his own coffee and sat down with her, wanting to set the tone from the start. “I should make it clear that I accept that you’ve been . . . chosen for us. But it’s up to you to fit in with us, not the other way around.”

  “Fit in with you, in other words. Got it.”

  “We’re partners. We don’t operate under that kind of hierarchy.”

  “Sure you do. It’s just not explicit. And like I said, I’ve got it,” she went on as he groped for an answer. “I have something I need to make clear too. It’s my job to make your job easier, yours specifically. To free you up to do the things only you can do, and to make the operation run as smoothly and efficiently as possible. I’m not going to be trying to get in your way. Just the opposite. Does that make having me on the team a little more palatable?”

  He looked into the remarkable eyes that met his own so squarely. Tried not to notice the fullness of her lower lip, or to let his gaze drift down to the V-necked blouse that skimmed over her pretty breasts, tucked into the impossibly slim waist of another pencil skirt. All of which he’d taken in at a glance when she’d stood to shake his hand, then tried not to look at again. And he definitely wasn’t going to be noticing the smokiness in that low, soft voice. She was palatable, all right. But he still wasn’t crazy about working with her.

  He realized she was still waiting for an answer. “Hey.” He summoned up his best charming smile. “I’m up for anything that makes my life easier.”

  “Good, because that’s what I’ll be trying to do. Although I should be clear about something else too. Doing what’s best for the company isn’t always going to mean telling you what you want to hear, or agreeing with everything you say. You’re going to have to trust that I’m up on the legal side, that I know what kind of safety plan we’re required to have, how we need to document the hiring process, how we ensure data security and legal compliance, and that I’m going to be implementing those best practices.”

  “My eyes are already glazing over,” he complained. “As soon as you said ‘legal compliance’ and ‘best practices,’ you lost me.”

  She gave him her first real smile, and he noticed that she had a dimple, just to the left of her mouth. A little . . . hole, enticing him, begging for his tongue to investigate it. Don’t go there.

  “Let’s not talk about it in the abstract, then,” she urged. “Waste of time, don’t you think? Let’s get into it, and see how I can help.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Get into that, and out of the danger zone.

  “Two top priorities, the way I see it,” she said, clicking the touchpad on her laptop. “Office space and personnel. Let’s start with space. We’re staying in the City? I read that you’d bought a place here, so I assume you’re planning on locating the business here as well?”

  “Yeah. We all wanted to move up here. Silicon Valley got boring. South of Market, if we can do it. If not, we can try farther west.”

  She nodded, made a quick note. “I think we can do it. I’ve been in touch with a commercial realtor I’ve used before, just to get a feeling for what’s out there, and there are some options. I’ll start looking at space over the weekend. How big are we talking? How many tech staff to start?”

  “Fifteen or so, but we’ll want room to grow.”

  “All right. Maybe 25 people altogether, with some extra space. One floor, or maybe half, depending on the size of the building. That’s all I need to know for now. Let’s talk staff.”

  And they had. By the time they’d finished, he’d been convinced that she was going to make his life easier. Although there’d been a couple of sticky moments.

  “Computers,” she said. “Mac or PC? Because I’ll want to get the IT end rolling right away.”

  “Mac,” he said. “Though the three of us have our own.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. No personal machines. Too much of a security risk. And I’m sure that’s your major concern too, at this point. That’s going to be up to you, how you keep your programmers from having access to all of the code. I can’t do that part. But you’ve got compliance issues as well. We’ll be getting site licenses for every single piece of software,” she went on when she saw him opening his mouth to object. “And everything has to be clean and traceable.”

  “Brandon isn’t going to be happy,” he said. “He’s a PC guy.”

  “Then maybe you want to go with PCs.”

  “No,” he said immediately. “Macs.” He saw her smile, and laughed himself. “All right. I’ll admit it. I decide. But I still don’t see why we can’t make an exception.”

  “You can’t have one rule for the guys at the top, and another one for the staff,” she explained. “Everyone sees it, everyone knows it, and it’s a morale killer. And like I said. Data security.”

  She’d been impossible to budge, and he’d given up, because he’d had to concede, annoyingly enough, that she was right. Though he wasn’t about to tell her so, and she didn’t rub it in, either, thank goodness.

  And then ther
e’d been the other moment. They were wrapping it up, and she was making a final note. He watched her slim fingers flying over the keys, said idly, “You must type a hundred words a minute. If people still measure those things.”

  “No idea,” she said. “Pretty fast.”

  “Is there anything you don’t do well?” he asked. “Because so far, I’m intimidated.”

  She laughed, low and soft, and there was that dimple again. “I don’t cook.”

  “Me neither,” he grinned back. “Guess we’d better not plan on moving in together, or we’ll starve.”

  That sobered her up fast. “That’s the kind of thing you can’t say. The kind of thing Ron’s concerned about. You’re saying it to me, which is one thing, although still not OK, let me just make that clear. And with anybody else . . . no. That goes for all you guys. I’ll be telling Brandon and Joe as well, because that example has to be set from the top too.”

  “I’ll try. But it’s hard.”

  “Because you flirt,” she said, still matter-of-fact, to his annoyance. “But you need to stop. It’s going to get you into trouble.”

  No way I can get you into trouble? It was on the tip of his tongue. But he didn’t say it. He was learning.

  She shoved her laptop into its case, zipped it briskly shut. “I’ll let you know early next week what I come up with, space-wise,” she said. “And meanwhile, I’ll get working on the non-programming staff.”

  “Sounds good.” He stood with her, left the little café. “You down here?” he asked when she turned right with him. “Parked close by? Taking BART? I’m not sure where you live.”

  “I’m headed this way,” she said. Walked another couple blocks with him in silence, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

  “This is me,” she said at the corner of Fremont and Mission, just a block short of his place. He considered inviting her to join him and the guys later, and immediately abandoned the notion. Really bad idea.