by Claire Adams
"Really, Rainer, we don't have time for this. You do remember we have an early meeting with Stan, I mean, Mr. Eastman. Right?" Tasha asked.
Another person she was on a first-name basis with, except he was the Chief Operating Officer of our whole damn company. I blinked as a few far-fetched rumors caught traction in my head. "You and Mr. Eastman? Are you two close?" I asked.
Tasha whipped around and marched towards her office. Again I had to race to catch up. I reached out for her silken, bare shoulder, but she rounded on me and jabbed a finger into my chest.
"I'm not going to catch you up every day, Rainer. This is your project now, and I expect you to do your share," Tasha said.
I caught her jabbing finger and held her hand as long as she would let me. "Catch me up on what?"
Tasha yanked her hand free. "Of course you don't know. We're facing a public relations nightmare of epic proportions, the whole project is in jeopardy, and you, of all people, don't have a clue."
My hand went to the pocket that held my phone. Topher had been calling all morning, and I hadn't checked a single message. My email inbox was jammed full, but I had been too distracted learning that Tasha had a pregnant sister. "I'll know soon enough," I pointed out.
"GroGreen is under attack for encouraging people to skip the real gardening and just sit on their couches. We're being charged in the court of public opinion for adding to the U. S. obesity problem. Our app has been downgraded to nothing but a silly game."
I groped for Tasha's hand again, and this time she didn't pull away. "Are you serious?" I asked.
My assistant, Topher, came rushing up. "Mr. Maxwell, I've been looking all over for you. Did you get my messages? My emails? My. . . Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."
I ignored Topher's preoccupation with our interlaced hands and tugged Tasha towards her office. Her assistant, a vacant-smiling temp, glanced up serenely. "Hello, Ms. Nicholas."
"It's Nichols, Amy. My name is Ms. Nichols," Tasha said.
"Sure, right. Would you like some coffee?"
Tasha's hand slipped from mine as Topher and I gaped at the useless assistant. It was clear at that moment that any work Tasha did, the amazing work she did for Hyperion, was completely on her own. While I sat in an office with a view, letting my overeager assistant organize everything for me, Tasha worked alone with her back turned to the gray-brick view behind her.
"Ms. Nichols, I have the latest reports," Topher said. He rushed after her into her cramped office.
I ignored the flirty smile from the useless temp and followed my assistant. He was right to aim his hard work at Tasha, and, for once, I was glad I had something to offer her.
"If Hyperion can't recover from the bad press, it will encourage lawsuits, and the company will have to freeze the assets gained from the app sales," Topher said.
"We'll lose our bonuses?" I asked.
"That's all you care about, isn't it?" Tasha asked. She crossed her arms and leaned on her utilitarian desk. "Your billions are safe; it's just the company's name, reputation, and our professional respect that is at risk."
She thought that I didn't care about anything but my bank account. Neither she, nor my assistant, could hear the nagging voices in my head. It wouldn't matter how much money I had made, how I had secured the Maxwell fortune for generations to come. If my work lost the respect of everyone, the whole nation from what Topher was saying, then my family would never let me forget it.
"The only thing I care about is what we're going to do next," I said.
Chapter Seven
Tasha
Rainer was not taking the hint. I wanted him to leave, to disappear down the long corridor that leads to the better offices and let me get ready for the meeting. I thought standing with my hands on my hips, elbows out, would have stopped him in my office doorway, but he had other plans. Rainer hooked one arm gracefully around my stiff elbow and tucked me close as he escorted me inside. Topher jumped at the chance to follow, but Rainer shut the door in his eager face.
"I'm serious, Tasha," Rainer said. "We need to come up with a plan right now for how to fix this."
"You don't even really know what 'this' is," I said. I untangled myself from his arm and stalked around to the other side of my desk. "Why don't you go to your office and let your assistant catch you up?"
Rainer flat out ignored my hint and settled in the chair closest to my desk. He stretched out his long legs, checked his shiny shoes for smudges, and then laced his fingers together over his stomach. "What's to catch up on? The app was a success, now its detractors are getting traction, and we have a public relations problem to fix. So, the big question is not 'what happened,' but 'what are we going to do now?'"
I thought about marching to my office door and yanking it open, but even then I was sure Rainer would find a way to stay. He lounged back and watched me with those eyes, searching my face as if he was going to read the solution there. The real problem was I had an idea.
"What do you think we should do?" I asked.
Rainer raised an eyebrow. "I thought I wasn't qualified to think about it, seeing as I'm not all caught up yet."
I dropped into my office chair and glared at him. "So, I'll take that as a 'no?' No bright ideas yet?"
"Yet being the operative word," Rainer said. He leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling.
I cringed at the water spot that had been spreading, ignored by maintenance, and tried to stay focused. It didn't help that Rainer made even my scratchy office chairs look sinfully comfortable. How did he look so relaxed, so sure? I hated myself for finding his confidence so sexy.
I jumped a foot off my chair when my office door popped open and Amy trotted in. "Ms. Nichols? I wanted to let you know that you have a morning meeting with, ah, Mr. Eastman?"
"Is that a question or a reminder?" Rainer asked.
Amy's eyes took in every inch of my handsome co-worker before I cleared my throat and interrupted her obvious thoughts. "Thank you, Amy, but in the future, I do not need reminders about things I've put on the calendar myself."
Amy shrugged. "Sure. It was his idea, really."
Rainer's assistant glared at her from the hallway. Then he shot me a hopeful look, and I had no choice but to nod. He rushed inside, clutching a sheaf of papers. "I just thought you, oh, and Mr. Maxwell, would like to see the latest reports."
"What was your name again?" I asked though I knew full well the answer.
"Topher, Ms. Nichols. I've been Mr. Maxwell's assistant for two years, and before that, I was with Mr. Anderson in the research department." Topher was too excited to sit still.
"Is it good news?" I asked.
Topher realized his inappropriate excitement and handed the papers over with a bright blush.
Rainer laughed. "My assistant is just happy to be of service. Guess I don't work him hard enough."
"There are already reports of schools banning the app, parent groups are speaking out about it, and the American Medical Association is already planning a press release about it," Topher said.
"And I, like, heard there's going to be a skit about it on Saturday Night Live," Amy added.
I reached for a pen on my desk and gripped it hard. "And none of these groups are making any mention of the app's other uses? No one is talking about the integrated reminders, the routine suggestions, or the seasonal tasks?"
"It's just a game," Amy said. Then she caught everyone's look and shrugged again. "A really fun game. My garden has a fairy castle built into the fountain. I just need to collect a few more seeds before I get to start seeing fairies."
"Oh, yeah," Rainer said. "I forgot about the interactive reality component. I love that you can get alerts on your phone and find fairies all around town."
"I'm glad you at least know a few of the product details," I said.
Rainer sat up in one fluid move. "And you didn't know what exactly we were up against until I initiated this little meeting."
"Your assistant should really
get the credit," I said.
Topher went beet red and retreated for the door. Amy didn't want to follow but finally responded to Topher's loud whispered advice. She left the door open, but Rainer didn't make any move to follow them.
"You're really hung up on who gets credit, aren't you?" Rainer asked.
I folded my hands on my desk though my fingers itched to curl into fists. "I've learned that stealing credit is the easiest way for lazy, uninformed, and unfit junior executives to get ahead in this company. In any company, for that matter."
"But you're still willing to give credit to your team first."
I felt my chin ratcheted up a notch. "Yes."
"Good." Rainer got up and adjusted his bright cuff links. "We're going to need the whole team to fix this bad press. I've already been on camera, I'm already associated with the app, so I'm willing to step up and give a statement."
"You're going to try to be the scapegoat for our whole app team?" I asked.
Rainer chuckled. "No, that implies there's something we should take the blame for. Let's stick with credit over blame. Now, what should I say?"
I checked my watch and stood up. "We don't have time to decide that. The meeting with Stan is in ten minutes. Oh, no!"
"What? What is it?" Rainer asked, holding out a hand to me.
"I just realized that we need to compare all the information highlighted by the media before this trend started. Do you think your assistant could pull those press releases, headlines, and reviews for me? I mean, us?"
Rainer paused by my office door with a gallant gesture for me to go first. "I'll swing by Topher's desk and meet you in Stan's office."
We left Amy chewing on a pen cap while combing social media. I turned back, as if to instruct my hopeless assistant, and Rainer strode off towards his office. As soon as he was past the water cooler, I took off for Stan's office. My breakneck pace did not stop for questions, concerns, or even belated congratulations. I burst into the stairwell and took the steps at a fast trot. I couldn't risk getting held up by the other junior executives in the elevators.
"Did you run all the way up here?" Stan rocked back in his leather chair as I shut the door behind me and took a second to catch my breath.
I nodded and held up a hand to stop his laughter. "With good reason," I said.
"Where's Rainer? I thought you two might come up together," Stan said.
"What? No. Why would you think we were together?"
Stan scrubbed a hand over his chin but did not try to cover up his grin. "No reason. Just a thought. Don't get me wrong, I love a little alone time with you. It does wonders for my reputation. They keep hoping I'm going to lie down and take retirement easily, but you make me seem energetic and full of life."
"I thought you were trying to be a feminist," I said.
"Speaking of women's equality," Stan said, "I know exactly why you are here and I've got to say, I'm surprised at you."
I pushed away from the door and approached his desk with caution. "You know my concern?"
Stan sighed. "You already have an idea about how to fix this whole public relations debacle, but you don't want to share credit with Rainer. You think he's just hanging around to steal what he can of your good work. Does that about cover it?"
I sunk into one of the polished, wing-backed chairs that faced Stan's immense desk. "What's so wrong with that? I work hard, and I can't let some other junior executive like Rainer just trample all over me."
"So, instead, you're letting him dictate your reactions and become someone you're not?" Stan leaned forward. "Tasha, darling, you are the best damn team manager I've ever seen. It's the secret to your success. You know, better than anyone, how to create a strong team. And it isn't by worrying about who gets the credit."
I slumped back. "I just get tired of seeing people promoted before me."
"I thought you would have had Rainer's number by now," Stan said.
My cheeks got hot. "Why would I need his number? He won't leave me alone at work."
Stan grinned. "I meant figuratively. Does Rainer strike you as a man who wants the full weight of leadership?"
I thought about Rainer, trying to brush past all the physical traits he had that distracted me: long legs, flat stomach, broad shoulders, strong jaw, that devil-may-care smile, those blue eyes. . . I cleared my throat. "I thought he was just in it for the money. Maybe a little glory."
"Exactly," Stan said. "So, stop thinking of him as the competition. He's on your side."
Stan's phone rang and he pressed the speaker button with a flourish. "Send him in, Jean."
Rainer thanked Stan's secretary and sauntered into his office. He was surprised to see me already there, but he masked it well. "Mr. Eastman, I hope I'm not late. Here is that report you wanted, Ms. Nichols."
Stan studied each of us in turn as Rainer handed me the tight packet of papers, smiled at me, then sat down. "Seems to me we're all in the same foxhole here, so let's dispense with the formalities and stick with first names. Shall we?" Stan asked.
I suppressed a groan as the men shook on it. It made me edgy to see my mentor so friendly with Rainer. And why did Stan keep smiling like that?
"Well, Stan," Rainer said, "let me start by assuring you that I am all caught up on the latest reports. Tasha here was nice enough to suggest I start with the timeline of media statements. See when they really started turning on us."
"Excellent place to start," Stan said.
My head buzzed as Rainer discussed the accusations surrounding our GroGreen app. I had sent him off to his office only minutes ago and yet he was referencing the reports with ease. Had he really sped through all of them before joining us? I studied Rainer. He didn't seem like the type of man who would pretend to know less than he did, but the truth was I didn't know him all that well. All I knew were snap-judgements and rumors.
"What do you think, Tasha? Is our man here is on the right track?" Stan asked.
Our man. I almost rolled my eyes. "Product placement is a good idea, but it will be a struggle to find a venue that wants to be associated with us right now. Celebrity spokespeople are expensive and unreliable. Whatever we choose has to be immediate and under-budget."
"Very practical." Stan sighed and settled back in his leather chair. He steepled his fingers together and studied us for a moment. "I think the real solution is somewhere in the middle. You'll keep working on this together and report back to me daily."
"Together?" My breath caught in my throat. "We're not exactly on the same page."
Stan smiled. "You'll get there. It's the board's decision. I'm just the chaperone."
I didn't like the way Rainer chuckled. I shot out of my chair, shook Stan's hand first, and marched out of his impressive office first. Still, I had to glance back. Stan was the one person at Hyperion who I trusted to tell me the truth, and here he was shaking Rainer's hand and telling him something in confidence. The only comfort I had was the speed with which Rainer's smile fled his face. He even looked a little pale as he joined me at the elevator.
"More bad news?" I asked.
Rainer fiddled with his tie. "He's a sharp old man, isn't he?"
I caught Rainer's guarded glance and had to laugh. "He can read people better than anyone I know. Why?"
Rainer's eyes roved over my face, and I felt his gaze like hot sunlight. It felt as if he was searching for something in me and when he found it, he smiled. "It wasn't bad news. Might be really good. But first, we have to save this project."
We rode the elevator down to our floor in silence. I kept my eyes on the tips of my shoes, but I could feel Rainer's curious looks. He glanced at me like we'd only first met and it made my stomach do giddy turns. When the elevator doors opened, I couldn't help myself. I grabbed his arm and had to ask.
"What did Stan say to you?"
Rainer stepped out into our lobby, pulling me with him. "No. No way. I don't know how you do it, but you always know more than me. So, this one thing, I'm going to keep it to myself
."
Somehow, my other hand had found his and we stood face to face, inches apart. "You really don't know how teams work, do you?" I asked.
"Maybe I'm more of a partner guy. Just us." Rainer's grip on my hand was warm, inviting. "What do you say, partner? Brainstorming lunch? I know a great place."
Another elevator opened and I knew I should pull away from Rainer, but it was a distant, nagging thought. Being near him was like finding the one hill that hadn't been caught in the fog. Everything else just faded away.
"Tasha?" Ivy stepped off the elevator, leaving behind a cluster of awed admirers. They stumbled out behind my rich and royally fashionable friend, breaking the spell between Rainer and me.
"Ivy! You didn't need to come all the way up here. You should have just called me," I said.
Ivy switched her Italian-leather clutch from one hand to the other. "I'm glad I came up. Getting a glimpse of you at work, with your co-workers, was worth the trip." Her soft brown eyes sparkled as she held out a hand to Rainer. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ivy Madison."
"Suddenly, you’re friends with Ivy Madison?" Rainer asked me. He shook Ivy's elegant hand then settled his gaze back on me.
Ivy's smile widened. "We were friends long before my last name had such meaning."
"Ivy, this is Rainer Maxwell," I said. First with Stan, now with Ivy. What was it about Rainer that made all my closest friends smile like that?
"Oh, I've heard that name—"
I looped an arm through Ivy's and pulled her down the hall towards my office. "Sorry, Rainer, I already have lunch plans. Meet up again in two hours?"
Rainer stood where he was and watched me drag Ivy away. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Madison. Since when do you take two-hour lunches, Tasha? I'll see you in an hour."
"Ooh, I like it," Ivy said as I shoved her past my gawking assistant and into my office.
"Like what?" I asked.
"The way he doesn't have eyes for anyone but you." Ivy tossed her leather clutch on my desk and smiled at me.
"What?" I shut my office door harder than I intended. "That's insane. I thought you said you'd heard of Rainer Maxwell before. He's the biggest playboy San Francisco has to offer."
