Love, Technically (10 page)

At Sydney’s skeptical look, she continued. “I met Noah my first week here at LightWave. He asked me out. At the time, I didn’t know he was the CEO.”

Sydney snorted.

“No. Really, I didn’t. He introduced himself with his nickname, and it wasn’t as if I’d ever seen a picture of Noah Frellish before. Maybe you spent your college days reading business and technical journals, but I certainly didn’t. We went out on a few dates. We had a real connection. Now that I know he’s the CEO, I ended things. I won’t date him as long as we both work in the same company at such different levels.”

Sydney bit her lip. “You really didn’t know he was the CEO?” She looked incredulous.

Michelle felt her cheeks heat, and shook her head.

Sydney stared at her. “He’s the guy who sent you flowers, isn’t he? And that’s why he stopped by our desks that day. He was looking for you. Oh my God. You guys really liked each other.”

Michelle couldn’t answer without tearing up. She sucked back a breath and stared at a point on the wall behind Sydney’s head.

“I’m sorry, Michelle. I saw you in his arms and reacted. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions without talking to you first. Why didn’t you come after me and explain?”

“I had no idea why you were mad,” she said, “so it never occurred to me you would call Casey and use it to promote yourself.” She was satisfied to see crimson stain Sydney’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. You showed you were willing to sell out a friend in order to benefit yourself. How could I ever trust you wouldn’t do it again?” She could tell Sydney had never had such an honest conversation with a peer, one that portrayed her in an unflattering light.

“What now?” Sydney asked.

She shrugged. “We go back to work. Me to the admin job, you as the coordinator. We treat each other civilly, but you can stop asking me out for happy hours with your friends. And if you want coffee, get it yourself. Same goes for sandwich pickup, mail call, or any other servile task you think is beneath you. I work for
Casey
. Not you. Got it?”

Sydney nodded. “I understand.”

They both stood to head back to their desks. As they crossed the threshold into the main office area, Sydney asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to date him?”

Michelle whirled and narrowed her eyes, but Sydney held up a hand to stop her. “Whoa. I didn’t mean I was going after him. I meant that from where I stood, you two were pretty wrapped up in each other. Are you sure you want to let him go for a job?”

She didn’t answer because the words on her lips were
Of course
. But her heart was telling her a different message. Her feelings for Sark hadn’t changed now that she knew he was actually Noah Frellish. If anything, knowing he was the CEO gave him layers she hadn’t even guessed at. Right now her anger at herself for being so naive superseded any other feelings. But her conversation with Casey emphasized the hazards of dating someone in the same office. Especially when that someone was the head guy.

“Of course I have to give up Sa—Noah. He’s the CEO. Way out of my league.”

Chapter Eight

The weeks rolled past. Michelle got through them on autopilot. Work, ignore Sydney, go to class. Rinse. Repeat.

Noah was annoyingly absent from work. How was she supposed to ignore a guy if he wasn’t there to notice? She blamed him for her current work malaise and demotion into the assistant role. If Sydney hadn’t caught them kissing she could have earned the coordinator job. But looking back at all their conversations, she could see he’d never hidden who he was. The trip to Spain, the complaints about the job, the way he talked about LightWave as if it were his baby. The sad truth was, as angry as she was at him, she missed him terribly.

She ignored her loneliness, all the more apparent now that everyone around her was making plans for the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. Her mother had hinted strongly that she should come home, a suggestion Michelle had ignored until now. The idea of sitting in her tiny apartment and sucking back a dry turkey sandwich while watching the parade was too depressing. Last week, she’d researched bus schedules and bought a ticket home.

Part of her couldn’t wait to get out of the loud city and out of the office, and another part of her dreaded it. It would be too easy to fall into old patterns at home. Her family always held Thanksgiving dinner with her ex-boyfriend’s family, and had since infancy. Brad would ask her to go for a walk in the cold to digest, and then they’d come home to watch football and he’d slide an arm around her shoulder to warm her up. The memory of how his arm fit on her shoulder suddenly felt comforting and not like a restraint, as it had for the past few years.

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the office was tomb-silent. Most people had headed out already. Sydney had left Monday for somewhere requiring multiple online bikini purchases. Every time Michelle had looked over in the past few days, shopping sites were on Sydney’s screen. Must be nice, though she couldn’t imagine Thanksgiving without the possibility of snow, and surely pumpkin pie would taste different on a beach. Although Michelle was pretty certain Sydney and her family would order in sushi or something equally unpatriotic for Thanksgiving dinner.

Michelle looked around now at the mostly empty office and started to shut down. She’d packed last night, so maybe she could catch an earlier bus. It wasn’t as if there was a rush on seats for the bus to Iowa. She couldn’t even get a bus ticket directly to Minsker. Her parents were driving an hour to pick her up.

“Casey, I’m heading out now,” she said to her boss, who’d been there since morning and showed no signs of leaving unless the power went out.

Casey looked up. “Oh. Happy Thanksgiving, Michelle.”

“Same to you.”

“Before you get going, I wanted to tell you how pleased I’ve been with your work and how well you handled the whole Sydney thing. Enjoy your time at home.”

She froze and turned back to Casey. “Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m going to be doing some thinking over the holiday. I think I want to go to college full time and may not be returning.”
Holy moly. What made me say that?
She hadn’t even known it was on her mind until her lips were speaking the words. But as she said them, she realized it was true. She couldn’t keep going on like this. She was always feeling inferior, even with the evening certificate classes. She was never going to hold her own with people like Sydney until she had a diploma on her wall.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Casey said. “We would miss you around here. Let me know your decision as soon as possible.”

She grabbed her bag and hustled out of the office, grateful to be heading away from the city for the quiet of Iowa for a few days.

…

Sark shuffled from the elevator toward his desk, when he really wanted to head straight to Michelle’s desk and kiss her until she agreed to be with him again. He missed her. The first week, he’d given her time to cool down. Week two had taken him to New York to meet with investors. Now he was back, and enough was enough. He had to talk to her.

His feet ate up the carpet and within seconds he stood at the marketing department. No one was there save Casey. “Is Michelle around?” he asked, trying not to yawn. He’d arrived back in Chicago late last evening. The PR team had him in nonstop meetings while he’d been gone.

“It’s Wednesday, Noah,” Casey said. “The day before Thanksgiving.”

That’s right…he remembered his mother confirming his attendance at his parents’ home for Thanksgiving Day. But it hadn’t registered internally that all of his employees took the day off. Except, of course, for Casey, who didn’t seem to have any sort of personal life. His chest ached. Had Michelle left town without saying good-bye? Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d been in town to say good-bye to.

He turned to go to his desk. “Bye Casey, happy Thanksgiving.” His voice was flat, toneless.

“See ya around.”

He’d made it five feet away when Casey called to him. “She may not be coming back, Noah.”

He spun and stalked back to Casey. “What?”

“She mentioned she was considering a change and may not return to LightWave.”

His gut felt like he’d taken a professional boxer’s punch. He might have lost her for good.

Casey took pity on him. “She left five minutes ago. If you race, you can probably catch her in the lobby.”

He was at the stairs by the time the word
lobby
left Casey’s lips. He jumped down five steps at a time and hurled himself into the lobby then out into the cold, his eyes scanning for Michelle.

…

Michelle stood at the intersection, trying and failing to hail a taxi. A familiar male voice called out from behind her.

“Michelle!”

She ignored him and continued standing in the street with an outstretched hand. Footsteps sounded on the pavement behind her.

“Where are you going? I’ll take you in the company car. It’s on call all week, since the board’s in town, and I have it scheduled to drive me home tonight.”

Michelle remained in the street, holding an ungloved hand out in the bitter wind, desperately wishing a taxi would drive by. Oh, why hadn’t she taken the train to the bus station? With her big bag, she’d decided to splurge on a taxi.

Stupid, because now Sark was here offering a ride and looking more tempting than she remembered. She didn’t want to accept anything from him, knowing it could come back to bite her in the ass. But on the other hand, she was running late and it was darn cold out. Was one ride in luxury going to cause that much more of a problem?

“Fine. I’ll take a ride,” she said, making a mental promise to stay strong against his lure and not curl into his warm, tempting body.

The drive to the bus station took about fifteen minutes of stop-and-go traffic. The silence in the car wasn’t exactly hostile, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

“How long a ride is it to Minsker?” They sat on opposite sides of the car, but he was still too close for her comfort. In his thick green sweater, he looked snuggly and warm.

“A few hours.”

“Will it be good to be home?” he asked.

She shrugged. “So much has changed since I left. I wonder if I’ll feel a little out of my element with family and old friends.”

“I know what you mean about feeling out of your element.” He leaned back against the seat and sighed. “Rough day with the board,” he muttered.

Don’t ask
, she told herself. They were no longer a couple. She didn’t have the right to hold his hand and try to offer comfort. “What’s going on?” She clamped her lips shut, internally vowing to shut the heck up. His business wasn’t her problem, no matter how drained and weary he looked.

“You really want to know?” He sat a little straighter and his penetrating brown eyes looked at her through his glasses.

In for a penny, in for a pound. “Yes. I want to know.”

“Remember the idea I mentioned?”

“About using motion to recharge phones?” His large hand rested on the leather seat between them. She forcibly moved her gaze to his face so she didn’t fall prey to the lure of holding his hand.

“Well, it takes the LightWave technology to the next level. As it stands now, the LightWave software gives phone batteries a longer life before they need charging. What if we could remove the need for charging altogether?”

She blinked. “How is that possible?”

“Solar combined with motion. The act of walking with your phone or jiggling around in a purse could do it.”

“No way.”

He smiled. “It’s a
no way
right now, but I think I could do it.” He fell back in the seat with a frown. “If I had the resources.”

“But you’re CEO. Can’t you just get what you need?”

He gave her a wry look. “It’s not that easy when the company’s public. I have to answer to the board and shareholders.”

“And they won’t give you what you need?” She leaned toward him. “That’s ridiculous. Your idea is amazing. I mean, can’t you just imagine the ad campaign?” She twisted within the confines of the seat belt to face him. “Picture it. I see a city or maybe a suburban neighborhood with people walking out into the sunshine holding their phones. They go off to concerts in the park or shopping with friends. But some of the people would be literally chained to their houses, not by chains but by their phone charging cords.”

He grinned. “I can picture that.” Now his hand found hers and squeezed. “I can see why Casey wants you to stay. You have good ideas.”

The light changed and the car picked up speed. “Did she tell you I might be leaving?”

He nodded. “Please don’t go, Michelle. Whatever happens between us, LightWave needs you. I need you.”

She glanced out the window, pulling her hand out of his to nibble a fingernail at his mention of them as a couple. “I have to go home for Thanksgiving, Noah. My parents are expecting me.” She’d had to pull her hand away, because much as she wanted to deny it, his plea could break her. If he asked again, she’d keep her hand in his and call her parents to tell them she was staying in Chicago for Thanksgiving.

“Will you come back?”

“I don’t know. I have a lot of thinking to do over the holiday. What will you do if you don’t get the go-ahead to work on this new project?”

“I honestly don’t know. Stay at LightWave, I guess.”

“And be miserable?” She turned to face him. “You don’t need them. You can make it work all on your own.” She reached up to touch his face. “I believe in you, Noah.”

The car pulled to a stop and she saw two large buses alongside, indicating they’d arrived at her destination. She took a breath and braced herself to say good-bye, but he held on to her hand.

“Don’t call me Noah. I’m Sark to you,” he whispered into her ear. “Always. Have a good Thanksgiving, and please come back.”

She pulled her hand away and got out of the car, praying he wouldn’t follow her because she was fighting back tears and it was a losing battle. She managed to swallow them down when he got out of the car and pulled her into a tight hug. Her arms wound around his strong body, and she buried her face in his shirt, inhaling. It could be her last embrace with him.

He pulled away, jumped into the car, and closed the door behind him.

She took a second to look at the tinted windows, but couldn’t see inside. Hefting her bag over her shoulder, she got on the bus and found a seat.

…

Sark watched in a daze as Michelle’s bus pulled away, then had the driver return to the office. He sat at his desk, staring at the computer screen but not really seeing it. Finally, he shut the workstation down, grabbed his laptop, and headed out into the blustery day. He walked a few blocks, shivering, until he realized he was quite close to the fancy apartment he owned but didn’t occupy.

He decided to head over there and think things through. Since it was completely devoid of supplies, he stopped to buy a roll of toilet paper and some snacks. He had a vague idea it would be fun to tinker around and code something unrelated to LightWave. It would center his mind and maybe help him decide what to do.

Once in the apartment, he settled in front of the large window and stared at the lake. In the summer, the turquoise water lapping on the shore looked inviting, but now, on the cusp of winter, it looked threatening and cold. Or maybe it was his mood. To tell the truth, he didn’t feel particularly thankful for anything at the moment. Objectively, he knew he was luckier than 99 percent of the world, judging solely by the number of commas in his bank account, but it would be tough to get him in the Thanksgiving mood.

Inside, where it counted, he was cold and lonely. He didn’t have Michelle, if he’d ever had her at all. It had become increasingly obvious on his New York trip that he’d left his heart in Chicago—both his feelings for Michelle and his love for LightWave.

He realized that the more people he spoke to, the more he wanted to pursue his dream of a cord-free power option for wireless devices. So what if he didn’t have the backing of the board? He could leave. He could pursue his dreams solo. He’d done it before. Michelle hadn’t blinked at his idea. She’d told him he could do it, and he knew he could with the right investors and engineering team.

There was nothing tying him to LightWave except a lot of money and loyalty to the employees who’d been with him from the beginning. Well, the money he could live without, and anyone who was that loyal to him could follow him to the new company. Sure, there were all sorts of complications such as his non-compete agreement, his pilfering of LightWave employees, and so forth, but they were minor complications in the scheme of things. All solvable with a little ingenuity.

He pulled out his laptop and opened a document. Instead of jumping headfirst into coding as he’d done with LightWave, he started to plan. He’d learned a thing or two over the years, particularly during the company’s grueling start-up phase. A business plan started to form on-screen.

He typed fast and furiously, planning what he’d need and how much it would cost, losing track of time as he went. Satisfied at the start on the business plan, he got to work on solving the software side of his next challenge. There would have to be major strides on the hardware end, but that came later. First he had to prove he could code it.