Chapter 2: Mixed Greens

"Any more questions?" Chris chirped, turning to me from the mounted TV.

I laughed. "When can I test?"

"Let's get the hell out of this room and get your computer ready," he said with a wink.

I helped him pack his laptop and tidy the meeting room. I tried my best to pay attention to the personal demo for the last forty-five minutes, but the application was difficult to follow, and I felt bogged down with whatever Mr. Leoné wanted to say at noon. Plus, there was still the issue in my armpits!

My uneasiness spiked when we returned to our floor and Chris pointed down the right hall, saying, "On the opposite side of the company sign are the higher up offices of Mr. Leoné, the executive vice presidents and managing directors. And now Mr. Willoughby."

Oh, I'm still sweating. Jesus!

Little did he know, I'd venture down that hall around noon. How would I tell him this? I shadowed him to the left and back toward his office. That's when I saw the bright green dress circle ahead of Renee's smiling face.

"Are you on a tour?" She asked, smiling with her mouth open. Her big brown eyes squinted from her contagious grin.

Chris nodded, and Renee did a little happy dance before approaching with an extended hand.

"Hi," I laughed, and she promised to rub shoulders with me later before she sped into her office beside Chris'.

Chris continued, "In these cubes, we have trading solution specialists, financial consultants, developers for applications, systems and architecture."

We walked down the long row and I smiled at whoever made eye contact with me on either side. Chris informed how he was in charge of the financial team, whereas Renee managed the technical and hardware division.

"Your position is a little weird because it is open-ended. I mentioned during our first interview, you get the chance to work alongside me and Renee. That should give you an opportunity to see where you feel more comfortable to test. However, the reason we opened this contractor position is that we REALLY need someone who can bring the best of our worlds together."

"So a bridge," I inferred. I had a lot of work ahead of me if that app is what they have after a couple of years of development.

"Exactly," he grinned. "And that's why your resume was so attractive, Renee, Mr. Leoné and a few other executives."

Knowing so many important people looked at my resume made my eye twitch. I mean, I knew more than one person would look at it, but the pressure of this awareness crushed me a little.

I followed Chris back to his office. He asked, "Questions so far? I know this morning has been a lot to digest already."

I'm finna give you more to chew.

"Well, this isn't a question," I began, scratching the back of my neck. "When you took Willoughby to his office, Mr. Leoné spoke to me. I didn't want to be rude, so I answered honestly when he asked my opinion about the meeting. I probably said too much, because he told me to meet him in his office at noon."

Chris walked around his desk and raised his brows as far as they could go. I sat with my purse and slumped shoulders in defeat, perceiving the meeting would be bad until Chris finally broke his silence with a snicker. "I don't know what that means."

Tilting my head, I waited for him to say more.

"You're not getting fired because if you were, he would have informed me to relieve you by now." He rubbed his brow and leaned back in his chair. I wanted to believe him, but my manager hadn't sold to me. I wasn't in for a dumpster-fire of an interaction at noon.

"He's done that before?" I asked, leaning forward.

He sat, popeyed, with stretched his lips. I knew what that look meant.

How was I supposed to take any of this? Was Mr. Leoné as compulsive as he let on? Goddamn, what kind of record was this day trying to set?!

After I asked for the bathroom to change my shoes, I returned to Chris to declare it was time I saw my cube. I wished I was better at hiding my nerves, but I was piss poor at it because Chris stopped us outside his office and reassured me that everything would be fine with Mr. Leoné. His wrinkle-nosed smile used to work as a soothing balm, but now it grated me like the block of cheese I was. If I raised my arms, I'd probably be giving a little Munster or brie. Or just unwelcomed stink.

Shit. It's just like me to try a new deodorant on my first day. I'd see how far I could make it before anyone realized I moved my arms like a penguin on purpose because I had folded paper towels in my pits.

He walked me to the cube six-by-six cube with six-foot-high, uneventfully gray walls. Inside were two monitors attached to a docking station, just as I'd seen in Chris' office.

"Here we are!" We turned around and saw Renee carting a big black laptop bag in her office chair. Renee pulled her seat beside mine, and Chris left us be. She helped set up my computer to generate my ID for the company intranet and showed me where the location of the benefits, timesheet, and evaluations. This took us about four hours because she still had to be a manager and attend a call and a meeting that left me alone to play with the trading prototype. When she returned, Renee's greatest concern pertained to sorting out my company email. I sat beside her, silently observing how she sorted out the last issues over my cubicle's landline. The security email we waited for finally appeared.

She ended the call and clicked through the email. "That's the shit we have to deal with since we're using an enterprise cloud service. W-what is this?"

A notification swept in from the bottom-right of the screen. She clicked it and folded her brows at me. "An invitation to a meeting with Mr. Leoné at twelve o'clock?"

Crap!

"Yeah." I hunched my shoulders and picked at my nails. "And I don't know what for. Though I think I said too much when he asked me my opinion about the meeting earlier."

"He ASKED your opinion?"

"Is that bad?" I cringed.

She tilted her head and shook it. "No, it's a prominent sign, actually. We hired you for your opinions."

"But you seem so surprised."

She rested her chin on her palm. "It's because this side of the office has been begging for a tester or interface authority for more than a year. He was so resistant to it, so I'm surprised he was quick to make himself vulnerable to your critique. You told him it looked like shit, right?"

I looked away with a smile. She laughed.

Thank god! Chris tried his best earlier, but Renee came through as the tincture I desperately needed about twenty minutes before I uncovered why the hell Mr. Leoné invited me to his office! At least I would walk out knowing I was right about the app looking like crap.

Now, it was two minutes before noon. Passing the elevator, I pulled my shoulders back and rolled my head to a few cracks. Chris told me he was in the last room at the end of the hall, and when I made it, I glanced into the side window to find him glaring at me while on a call. With two fingers, he gestured I come in.

Here we go.

I needed the new paper towels in my armpits to stop crinkling so loudly. With elbows pressed to my sides, I tried to close the door without giving off the impression of little dinosaur arms.

As he remained on the phone, I took the chance to look around. A few steps from the left of his desk was a two-seater leather couch with the fancy buttons in them. Above it was a large white square painting that looked like a replica of a famous painting I blanked on. It would come to me later. To the right, there were two bookshelves and a large office staple–Devil's Ivy–blanketed the top of one. The irony.

Eventually, I scouted his desk. It altered a bit from yesterday. There was a stack of folders and portfolios neatly pillared on the surface. It made sense for the setting, but seeing physical towers of work triggered stress for me.

Away from the tower of files, a tiny succulent brought a little liveliness near his mouse pad. Was it strange that I couldn't imagine this man with a healthy plant? I figured his general doom and gloom would prevent anything but his ego from thriving. There was no time for me to imagine him taking care of them when he abruptly turned to me.

I prepared to defend my wandering eye, but he announced blandly, "I just ordered two arugula salads with chicken on the side. Is that fine with you?"

"I'm sorry?" I asked, blinking rapidly and lurching my head forward.

"I ordered salad... for our lunch," he repeated in a drone laced with confusion.

I confused him? He confused me! I didn't know it was a lunch meeting! How in the hell was I supposed to assume that, and why did he pull a face at me with a damned arched brow?

My bugged eyes scanned the patterned carpet. "How did you know I would like chicken? I could be a vegetarian or allergic to certain foods."

"Just a guess," he admitted, shifting his attention to his computer.

"Um, why?" I widened my nostrils and tilted my chin up. Seriously, why was that an assumption on his part?

He turned back to see my wrinkled face and scoffed. I circled my hands around, waiting for a response because if he alluded to what I think he did, I could LEAVE.

"Ms. Young, is it?" he began. I almost rolled my eyes. He knows my name. He gives me too much of a neurotic spirit to not know it, but I nodded to entertain him.

He appeared a little pinched. "I'm NOT what you may assume right now?"

"Racist? Ignorant? Bigoted? Again, racist?" There was something about this man that didn't let me hold back.

Mr. Leoné opened his face in an expression I didn't think possible. But people who responded like him were quickest to reject being part of the problem than the actual problem.

"Yes, I-I suppose," he staggered. "But I'm not those things."

Sure. Should I have asked Renee or Chris about the location of our Human Resources department?

I kept quiet until he rested his face back into a preferred coldness. He could glare at me all he wanted, but I was dead serious about walking out of the Michelin Tower without this job.

"Well," I clapped once and rocked on my feet. "That's a relief, though it was the oppressed party who gets to confirm that per interaction. I just wanted to know if you were irredeemable NOW, just in case I needed to turn around and head back home."

"Please, have a seat," he pointed with his hand.

He wasn't as slick as he thought when his gaze briefly flicked down my legs. I didn't hate that he did it before I obliged him, sat, and crossed my ankles. Truthfully, I didn't know where the hell this conversation would go, considering that I just stressed a serious concern. Apparently, he found it appropriate to return to his work. Man, screw him! I can't even have fun pretending this surprise lunch is like a date!

The thought of screwing around with a boss–especially one this attractive–was the perfect daydream fuel, but I wouldn't do it. It was innocent if I kept it in my noggin. So, I examined his desk freely and wondered just how uncomfortable it would be to be bent over it. Stop it! But workplace romances always rang messy to me, and I'd never date him or screw him. He's a dick.

Mr. Leoné clicked his mouse and rubbed his clean chin. Focused on his computer screen, he asked, "But are you a vegetarian?"

"No, I am not," I said matter-of-factly. "Neither am I allergic to any food I know of."

That's when he paused. He did not move for maybe five seconds. I pulled my shoulders in and felt the paper towels doing their best fighting on the line of duty. He was nice to look at but I had my limits. I desperately wanted to leave. Truthfully, this level of bizarre was something I'd dealt with plenty just from riding subways regularly. But I never had the pleasure of madness revealing itself this early at a job.

"What do you like to do in your free time?"

Um. What? S'cuse me?

"Um, I like to hang out with friends and family, and uh... sometimes read a book or play video games?" I wanted him to see my incredulous stare.

Why the fuck does any of that matter?

Finally, I received his attention. "I don't understand how people waste their time and money on video games."

"While I can agree about the expenses, gaming and gaming development are important to technology today."

His narrowed eyes were a cue to disbelief, so I clarified my stance with a mildly pained expression. "The current developments in gaming, especially mobile gaming, are in brand new trading platforms. Major crossover there with modern tech."

"How?" he frowned.

"Seriously? Um, micro-transactions for one," I answered. "Which can lead to more people seeing gaming as different investments. Plus, people are literally building platforms centered on digital currency."

He rolled his eyes. "Sure."

He should have picked up his monitor and threw it at me if he wanted to be less rude. What the hell is his problem?

I gestured with my index and thumb. "That's a smidge harsh there."

"I didn't intend for it to sound any less so," he finished reflexively. "Have I made you uncomfortable?"

"Um–" I began.

"Don't say 'um' so much," he snipped.

My lips formed a thin line. To assume this would be a dumpster fire before was wrong. Apparently, I was talking to Dante Leoné, and we sat together in a layer of Hell.

Hm, that name would be kind of sexy if he wasn't a hmm... A DICK!

"Have I made you uncomfortable, again?" he repeated, void of any empathy.

I made sure not to open my mouth this time and blatantly lied by shaking my head and releasing an annoyed giggle.

He quickly added, "Don't do that either."

"I'm sorry. What did I do?" I asked, glaring at the man tempering with my irritation.

"Giggling. Don't do that," he forewarned. "It's annoying."

My lips parted, and I looked madly off to the side. What was I supposed to do if I couldn't even laugh around him? I couldn't wait until this 'lunch meeting' was over. He didn't seem to have a problem with my silence, turning back to his work and typing madly with a straight face.

He left to retrieve the food when it arrived ten minutes later–the slowest ten minutes of my life. And what happened next was astonishing. We ate it... in silence. I don't believe he looked at me once, and, honestly, that wasn't a bad thing. What the hell just happened?

"I'd like to see you back here tomorrow for lunch," he added, to my surprise, not bothering to remove his attention from the computer screen.

Heavy bags caved under my eyes when I cheerlessly returned, "All right, Mr. Leoné."

Oh, I caught his attention with the daggers he threw in my direction. Startled, I tried with more enthusiasm, "I mean... YES, Mr. Leoné."

"'All right' and 'yes' make no difference to me. The door is right there, so see yourself out," he spoke with an air implying my common sense was lacking.

His devilishly green eyes held on me as I stood in my bewilderment.

You said you want me to come back here just before telling me to get the fuck out? Okay!

I sped back to my Chris' office and saw that he wasn't inside. The next option was to check Renee's window, and to my pleasure, I found both of them chatting at her desk. Renee spotted me, jumped up from her chair while alarming Chris, and yanked the door open.

She used her back to close us in the office and revealed a diabolical grin. "How was it?"

I opened my mouth but quickly closed it to prevent my first thoughts from escaping, as usual. I took one more second to think, but then I smirked at the spiteful nature of my answer.

I thought of Mr. Leoné's cold face. "Um... he was INTERESTING."