The Boyfriend Project

by Farrah Rochon

  His colleagues back at FinCEN had learned as much about Trendsetters as they possibly could before Daniel even applied for the job. The plan had always been for him to get hired without having to tip anyone in management off to what the government was doing, because it was unknown whether anyone in management was in on the laundering scheme. Getting hired had been the first obstacle. His impressive résumé was complete fiction, but if anyone at Trendsetters called the people at his previous places of employment, they would get glowing stories of how much of an asset Daniel had been while on their payroll.

  He hadn’t realized getting hired would be the easy part. Breaching Trendsetters’ security so that he could gain access to the particular database he needed made getting hired seem like a cakewalk.

  He’d come up with the plan to go into the Security Department by mistake, using the excuse of being the new guy who didn’t know his way around as his cover. He’d calculated that it would take between seven and ten minutes to copy the portion of the database he needed onto a flash drive.

  But just before he’d started, Trendsetters had undergone a massive overhaul of their security system after highly publicized security breaches at several big companies across the country. Now there were only a handful of people with access to the closed-off room that housed the cybersecurity personnel. Those few had separate keycards that allowed them to enter the room, and he wasn’t one of those people. His assignment had gone from difficult to downright impossible. Two weeks since he’d started and he was no closer to infiltrating the database than he’d been on day one.

  An alarm bell sounded and a voice rang out. “Two minutes until a flash! It’s R&D versus R&D. Implementation and Software Development, you’re up!”

  The first time he’d heard that bell, Daniel had bolted out of his seat, his body instinctively switching to rescue mode. He’d hardly registered that no one else seemed alarmed. He soon learned that the bell had nothing to do with an actual crisis. It was the signal for the contests Trendsetters held between employees.

  Each department had been broken up into several teams, and even some subteams for the larger departments like Research and Development, where he worked. The teams were pitted against each other to “promote healthy competition.” The contests ran anywhere from twenty minutes to about an hour, with parameters set by each team leader, based on the project the teams were currently working on. Whichever team got closer to accomplishing its goal won whatever prize was up for grabs.

  Last week his team had missed out on all the caramel corn and cotton candy they could eat from a local food truck. He’d been pissed. He loved cotton candy.

  A message popped up on his screen with instructions from his team leader about the guidelines for today’s competition. Daniel switched screens and logged into the editor for the new paywall software currently in development. He pulled up a new playlist and readied himself for the start of the competition.

  Trendsetters CEO Barrington Jacobs, who looked like the guy funneling beer in every frat party movie scene, stood in the center of the main walkway with a bullhorn.

  “Are our teams ready?” he asked. And before anyone could respond, he started counting. “Five. Four. Three. Two. Go!”

  Daniel’s fingers flew across the keyboard. He wasn’t thinking about Hughes Hospitality, the guys back at FinCEN, or anyone else. He was in the zone. He had no idea how much time had passed when the alarm bell sounded again. All he knew was that his fingers hurt like hell. But it was a good hurt, especially after learning that he and his teammates were the victors.

  “To the main conference room, Software,” Barrington called through the bullhorn.

  Daniel lagged behind the fourteen members of his team as they filed into the larger, more traditional conference room. He wanted to give Morgan Broomfield a wide berth. She hadn’t heeded any of the cues he’d given. If she made another reference to the two of them having drinks after work, he would just have to come right out and tell her he wasn’t interested.

  The conference room’s glass walls had been set to frosted mode, so Daniel had no idea what he would encounter as they were ushered inside. The space had been turned into an oasis. A half-dozen upright massage chairs lined the back wall. Just as many lounging chairs occupied the opposite side, with massage therapists standing at the ready. In the center of the conference table sat a fruit and cheese platter and shot glasses filled with what looked like fruit smoothies. A soft, clean scent filled the space. Something citrusy and minty.

  It was easy to see why jobs at Trendsetters were so coveted. The perks alone were worth more than the salaries some of the tech companies out there offered.

  Daniel climbed onto one of the cushioned massage chairs and placed his head on the donut. The massage therapist began her ministrations on his neck and shoulders and a deep moan escaped his lips.

  Goodness, that felt good! Maybe he should try to get his supervisor at FinCEN to implement weekly massages back at headquarters. Lowell Dwyer would put him out on his ass, but it was worth a shot.

  Once done, Daniel walked over to a lounge chair and sat while another massage therapist gave him a full hand massage. Why had he never treated himself to a hand massage before? This shit was amazing.

  As he sipped a strawberry and kiwi smoothie, he couldn’t help but wonder why anyone employed here would mess it up by getting involved with a bunch of criminals. He knew the answer, of course. Money and greed were powerful catalysts for all kinds of bad behavior. He’d never get used to witnessing what people did for those two things. Sell out their own families. Trade their own children.

  After another ten minutes of eating enough grapes and Brie to make up for the breakfast he’d skipped this morning, Daniel returned to his desk amid good-natured boos from many of his coworkers. It was all in good fun. Eventually, they would win some awesome prize that would make him envious.

  He grabbed his coffee mug and made his way to the kitchen. Samiah was waiting for him at the coffee station, her arms crossed over her chest. She’d had meetings out of the office both yesterday and this morning. The outright euphoria rushing through his veins just at the sight of her after missing her for two days was his first clue that he was barreling headfirst into a crapload of trouble.

  “I am so disappointed,” she said. Daniel’s head snapped back in surprise. “I totally misjudged you.”

  His heart pounded erratically against his rib cage. Had he been made? He was almost afraid to ask, but he couldn’t just stand there like a tree stump.

  “Uh…what did I do?”

  “After the rough couple of weeks I’ve had, I just knew you would offer to switch places with me after you won that competition. Do you know how much I could have used that massage?”

  Relief made his knees weak. He perched his backside on the counter, hoping the casual pose would mask the fact that he couldn’t stand without the extra support.

  “I didn’t realize that was an option,” Daniel finally said after ensuring that his voice wouldn’t expose the last dregs of apprehension still creeping along his nerve endings.

  Her lips twitched, and the pout she wore curved upward. “I’m just messing with you. Well, kinda. I really could have used that massage.”

  “Sorry,” Daniel said. “It was a good one too.” He flexed his right hand. “Just what these digits needed after all that coding.”

  He chuckled at her outraged gasp.

  “You’re going to rub it in?” Samiah shook her head, her eyes wide with a mixture of astonishment and amusement. “And all this time I thought you were one of the nice ones.”

  “I am a nice one.”

  “Maybe.” Her reluctant smile was the sexiest thing he’d seen since the last time he saw her smile. A familiar heat flared to life again, warming the blood that pulsed through his veins. The intensity grew stronger with every minute he spent in her presence.

  “If I’d known it was an option, that massage would have been yours.” He reached for her hand, but p
ulled back before touching her. He arched his brow, seeking her permission.

  She unfolded her arms and held out her hand. Her demure grin broadened as she gave him a slight nod.

  After securing her consent, Daniel gently kneaded her soft palm, parroting the motions the massage therapist had made earlier, working his thumbs along the fleshy pad of her hand then moving up to her fingers. The satiny feel of her skin drugged his senses. Had he ever felt anything this soft?

  He had to mentally pull himself back when he noticed his breaths growing shallow. He was treading on dangerous ground here. Over these past two weeks his attraction to her had intensified to an outrageous level. He could feel her nearness on his skin.

  He’d told himself this was nothing more than a harmless workplace crush. He’d had a few of those since his breakup with Joelle. One of those crushes had even led to a couple of dates with a coworker in the Liaison Division back at FinCEN.

  But this felt different. It felt…charged. And as he relished the softness of Samiah’s palm against his fingertips, his ability to call his feelings inconsequential was dwindling. He should have dropped her hand and walked away. Instead he asked, “Are you still upset I didn’t give you my massage?”

  “Yes,” she said. She tipped her head to the side, her grin turning devilish. “You’re good and all, but I’m sure the professionals were better.”

  “You’re right. They were amazing.”

  She snatched her hand back and stuck her tongue out at him. Daniel laughed, and recaptured her hand.

  “What if I perfected my technique? Would that be enough to make up for my mistake?”

  Awareness saturated the air around them. It was dense and electric and not something he had ever experienced while working a normal operation.

  Samiah’s eyes dropped to their hands. He could feel her fingers tremble as she cautiously slid them from his grasp.

  “I…uh…I need to get back to my office.”

  It had shaken her too. He could hear it in her voice. Daniel sucked in a breath, then slowly released it.

  “Yeah. Yeah, me too.” He hooked his thumb toward his desk. “Well, I don’t have an office, but you know, back to my cubicle. Desk,” he corrected. “It’s just a desk. No cubicles here, which is a little weird, but whatever.”

  Fuck. He was stammering like a scared teenage boy asking his dream girl out on a date.

  “Privacy isn’t high on Trendsetters’ list of priorities.” Her smile was a touch more subtle this time, as if she was afraid to show too much emotion. She wiggled her fingers in a friendly wave. “Thanks for the massage.”

  He watched her walk away, mentally lambasting himself for allowing that to go as far as it had. He could barely keep his head about him just being near her. What did he think would happen when he actually touched her?

  He couldn’t let himself touch her again. No matter how damn soft her hands were.

  * * *

  Scrutinizing the handwritten notes from one of the half-dozen steno pads and mountain of Post-its strewn about her living room sofa, Samiah took a swig from the bottle of elderberry kombucha she’d picked up on her last grocery store run. She still wasn’t sold on it, but the fermented tea was starting to grow on her.

  She referenced a sketch of the interface she’d drawn up years ago, noting that she would now have to rework most of it because of the changes in tech design that had been made in just the few years since she’d first come up with the idea for Just Friends. Everything these days was much more streamlined, not clunky and crowded.

  She tossed the notebook aside and pitched her head back against the sofa.

  “What am I doing?”

  She must be out of her mind to think she could develop this app to the point where someone would be willing to invest enough money in it to bring it to market. It needed too much work. She’d never be able to get it all done.

  Stop it!

  That pesky inner voice had been wiggling its way into her psyche all evening long, trying its best to discourage her. She wasn’t falling for it. Yes, she had some hard work ahead of her, but how was that different from every single thing she’d ever attempted? The projects she worked on day in and day out at Trendsetters weren’t a cakewalk, but she did them. She put everything she had into their work. Why in the hell would she not do the same for herself?

  Samiah glanced at the sketches, notes, and research scattered around her. Hell, she was already doing the work. The throng of documents represented months of dedication.

  She could do this. She owed it to herself to do this.

  She had just under three months before the deadline to submit her idea to the organizers of the Future in Innovation Tech Conference, which meant she had ten weeks to get it all done so that she could devote at least a couple of weeks to testing.

  “All right. Let’s do this.”

  She grabbed hold of the checklists she’d created this morning. She had a master list comprising the six big items she needed to tackle, followed by six additional checklists breaking down the various tasks needed to accomplish everything on her master list. Just staring at them brought her a sense of peace. Her brain worked better when she compartmentalized her task into easily digestible chunks.

  First up on her list: user retention. She’d spent countless hours studying the market, and one of the biggest downfalls Samiah had noticed with most developers was that they’d designed something that users would use only sparingly.

  Incorporating some type of social network was key. Engagement drew people in and made them want to press the in-app purchases button once they’d downloaded the free app. But it had to be different than what was currently out there. She wanted to design something where once people matched, they could set up their own cozy chat rooms that would allow them to communicate outside of the public spectacle of the larger social networks, but those rooms needed to be more versatile than the typical private message.

  Common areas.

  She sat up straight. “Wait. I like that.”

  Samiah jotted the words down and circled them. The moment she put pen to paper, the ideas started popping in her head at lightning speed. She hadn’t felt like this in way too long, but the tingling of remembrance vibrated along her skin.

  She jumped up from the couch and ran to the junk drawer in her kitchen. She knew she had some of those wall-friendly adhesive strips in there somewhere.

  She found the strips and raced back to the living room. Using a Sharpie marker, she wrote Common Areas in big, bold print and tacked the sheet of paper to the wall, then she picked up a block of Post-it Notes and went to work.

  After an hour her wall was covered with bright blue sticky notes, each containing ideas on how to tackle user retention. Samiah grinned despite her mental exhaustion. Wasn’t it just an hour ago that she’d stood here contemplating whether she could do this?

  “Girl, you got this.”

  But not before a brain break. She swore there was smoke coming out of her ears.

  She raised her arms over her head and leaned back into a long stretch, working out kinks she didn’t even know she had. She grabbed her right wrist and wriggled it back and forth, loosening the joint. As her fingers moved down to her palm, it summoned the memory of strong, lean fingers massaging her flesh with firm, yet gentle, strokes.

  A low groan unfurled from deep in her throat as images that had no basis in reality impinged upon her fatigued brain. She’d never seen Daniel Collins naked. Had no plans to see Daniel Collins naked. But, holy shit, could she imagine Daniel Collins naked.

  And she had. She’d done so way too often over these past couple of weeks.

  He wasn’t the first coworker she’d fantasized about. She’d spent her first six months on the job visualizing her old supervisor, Carter Green, butt naked and laid out like the centerfold in an old Playgirl magazine. But never had she wanted those fantasies to become real. And never once had she gotten the impression that if she signaled her interest, it would be reci
procated. She had no doubts that Daniel would be fully on board.

  It wasn’t as if he’d been subtle in his attempts at flirting. Oh, he probably thought he was being subtle, but after an entire week of the two of them just so happening to meet up at the coffee bar, it became obvious that her newest coworker was interested in more than just macchiatos.

  The timing sucked so hard. She could only imagine how different things would be if he’d started working at Trendsetters just a few months earlier. Maybe she would never have met Craig and wouldn’t be racking up the views on YouTube right now.

  But it also meant she wouldn’t have met Taylor and London either. She wouldn’t trade that chance meeting for anything. Those two had lit a spark in her. They were the reason she’d lifted the lid on that box in her closet.

  Yet another reason why she should keep these naughty little fantasies about Daniel and his magnificent massaging abilities locked away: She’d made a pact with Taylor and London. She’d promised to focus on herself and not on dating.

  Besides, she was still treating the burn marks from her last relationship Dumpster fire. She wasn’t about to jump into anything else this soon. And with a coworker? She definitely didn’t need that kind of drama. The few office romances she’d witnessed in her three years at Trendsetters had all ended badly.

  She would be content with admiring those ridiculously beautiful cheekbones and engaging in a little lighthearted flirting at the coffee bar, but that was as far as she was willing to go.

  Chapter Nine

  The bell rang out, signaling the end of the three-way flash competition between R&D’s Implementation team and the Engineering and Marketing departments. The head of each sector had set the parameters for what they deemed would count as a win for their teams. Implementation met their benchmark; the other two did not.

  “Okay R&D, conference room,” Barrington Jacobs called.

  He was her senior by only two years, but Samiah willingly gave Trendsetters’ CEO his due. The man was a genius, and one of her inspirations. He readily admitted that he’d played the kid-stuck-in-the-middle-of-a-nasty-divorce card to get the seed money he needed from his parents, but he’d used that money to grow this company by leaps and bounds.