“You help them all the time. What were you doing here last weekend?”
“Rodriguez needed a hand. It was no big deal.” I waved away her comparison.
“For two full days . . . And he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. You know I’m right.”
The door opened.
My heart skipped a beat as Nathan emerged. It always did when he appeared. But this time he was coming from a meeting that determined the fate of my project and possibly my job.
He looked around and paused when his gaze crashed into mine. One steady look, then he turned away to speak to Craig.
“That was not good,” I whispered to Moira. I rounded into my cubicle and flopped into the chair. “Karen killed it. Nathan looked like the grim reaper.”
Moira’s chuckle followed me. “Nathan is just a consultant who will soon be gone. You should have been watching Craig, the CEO who makes the final decisions.”
“Wrong. I should have been watching my new boss. Karen will be CEO any day now. But—”
Another voice cut in with a soft “Hey, Moira.”
“Nathan.” Her brusque acknowledgment silenced and prepared me.
Nathan stepped into my cubicle as Moira exited it. He leaned against my credenza. “We should talk.”
I watched Moira drop from view into her own cubicle, but I knew she was still listening. Everyone was. In our open office plan, everyone heard everything.
The overt eavesdropping used to breed gentle teasing and foster camaraderie. Now there was an odd silence. We strained to hear one another. Sometime in the past year, we had shifted from a mind-set of abundance to one of scarcity—any information you gleaned might be that charged tidbit that saved your job.
“Good or bad?” I worked to keep my voice low and unemotional. Any added professionalism was lost as the bun I’d twisted my hair into fell over my eyes. The wire had pulled loose for the third time that day. I was losing my touch.
My hair dropped into a straight curtain of dark brown. I blew it out of my eyes and found Nathan reaching for the red twist of wire. I snatched for it as soon as he straightened.
“It’s electrical wire. The plastic coating makes for good hair ties.” I bent it back and forth as if to prove my point.
“So I’ve observed.” Nathan smiled. His smile, so unlike mine, was never stiff and always reached his eyes. Now it spread across his face and dug one dimple into his right cheek. For a moment, I forgot We should talk.
He gazed over the divider walls at the expanse of cubicles, then looked back to me. “Walk with me?” He was already moving away before I answered.
I yanked my hair into a ponytail, secured it again with the red wire, and hurried after him. Halfway to the door, one of my ballet flats slipped off, and I skipped along while pulling it back on.
Nathan didn’t turn, didn’t glance right or left; he just walked across the floor and out the side glass door. He stopped outside as if to let his body adjust to the Texas sun and heat. His blue oxford reflected the light. It matched the sky. It also made him look almost formal in WATT’s uber-casual environment. I glanced into Lucas’s cubicle as I hopped by—he wore what looked like pajamas.
My progress across the office had drawn all the glances Nathan had avoided. Walking outside always attracted attention, and gossip. I consoled myself with the thought that most folks would think Craig had tasked his consultant to kill his engineer’s failing idea. Awful as that was, it was better than the truth: Craig’s engineer had a hopeless crush on his consultant and now appeared to be racing after him. No one except Moira knew that one.
Nathan held the door open for me.
“Where are we going?” I straightened and smoothed my skirt.
He took a few steps from the door, closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath. “Don’t you love it out here? You can smell that dry, crisp fall smell. You can smell the sun.”
I stifled a smile. While running on the treadmill during my lunch breaks, I’d seen him out here doing this countless times. “To be honest, I haven’t been out here much lately.”
The whole office complex, ten high-rise buildings housing three times as many tech companies, was riddled with paths and ponds—a man-made oasis designed to promote creativity and relaxation. What had looked so clearly planned and artificial when WATT moved into the space four years ago had now grown in and filled out. It looked natural, beautiful even. I almost felt myself relax. Almost.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I’ve gotten into a bad habit of arriving early, staying late, and running on the treadmill at lunch.”
Nathan looked straight at me.
“I’m getting fired, aren’t I?”
“Despite your best efforts, no.” He winked and resumed walking. “Let’s circle the paths. Karen’s voice is scraping my ears like those whiteboard markers you love. That high-pitched squeal can drive a person nuts.”
“And it does . . . every day.” I stepped beside him.
Nathan was silent.
“You could at least warn me so I’m prepared to face her . . . Do I need to dust off that Boston job offer?”
“Stop it.” Nathan spun on me. “Unless you want to leave. I feel like you keep angling for an escape.”
“With Karen in charge, I may not have a choice. So?”
“Do you ever feel like running away? Or is it just talk?” He offered me a sideways smile. It, too, felt like a question, but not the ones he’d asked. Can I be real with you?
He acknowledged my nod with his own and continued. “She got to me in there. Craig hired me to manage growth and reposition WATT. We’ve done that job well.”
“But?”
“You all know this. His goal was to stay independent, maybe go public someday. Karen is pushing for a sale, and soon. That’s public too, if you haven’t heard it. Finance is running numbers. That’s a whole different ball game.” He looked back to the building. “For everyone here.”
“I see . . .”
Craig, a brilliant physicist and engineer, thrived in the chaos of creativity. He had founded WATT, named for his childhood hero and the unit of power, on the principle that a few twenty-somethings with energy, smarts, and grit could make great stuff. Not glamorous or sexy stuff, but bold and innovative devices that people wanted or needed to make the sexy stuff run better. Craig loved innovation. Karen loved strong sales and healthy margins.
For the first time I saw clearly the power struggle pulling at us. I also saw that Karen’s vision was gaining ground. And that my project was a tangible symbol of the conflict.