Not Safe for Work by L. A. Witt Page B

every step of the process, it was no wonder they were in our building so often. And our bosses insisted on Teagan and me being present more often than not.
    So at eleven o’clock sharp, I put aside the windows I’d been trying to install in my current model and stood up. “Ready, Teagan?”
    “Fuck. Is it that time already?”
    “Yep.”
    Teagan groaned. “And Marie is on the warpath today.”
    “Great.” I took a long swallow of cool coffee. “Well, wish us luck, guys.”
    “Should we all gather round and lay hands on you?” Cal asked. “For, you know, protection or something?”
    “Cal, damn it, we’ve been through this,” I said. “You are not touching me.”
    He showed his palms. “Hey, I’m just trying to keep you from getting eaten alive.”
    “I’ll take my chances,” I muttered.
    “Ungrateful bastard,” Scott said around the pen in his mouth. “We’ll light some candles and sacrifice a virgin for you, though.”
    “Thanks, man, you’re a real pal.”
    Teagan brandished an X-ACTO knife. “You heard him, Cal. We need a virgin sacrifice for our safety, so—”
    “Shut up.”
    As we headed out the door, Bianca called out, “Ogle Pierce for me!”
    I almost stumbled, but Teagan answered, “Always do, baby. Always do.”
    Jesus. I’d forgotten those two had a thing for him. Couldn’t blame them. Who could? Cal was convinced they were just in love with Rick’s money, but Dion, Horizon’s CFO, was just as loaded as Rick, and they barely gave him a second look. I didn’t bother debunking Cal’s theories or backing up the women because I didn’t want to tip my own hand. There was so much more to Rick than money. So much more. Holy—
    “Hey.” Teagan elbowed me as we continued down the hall. “You’re zoning out again, McNeill.”
    “Am I?”
    “Yes, you are.”
    “Clearly I need more coffee.”
    “Yeah, I’m sure. Just stay focused in the meeting, okay?”
    “Of course.”
    I’ll try, anyway.
    Yeah right.
    The meeting turned out to be hell, but not for the usual reasons. Oh, there was the usual death by PowerPoint, endless yammering about shit I didn’t care about, and terse, unreasonable demands from my boss. There was also the restlessness that comes with needing to get something done to meet a deadline but being unable to go do it.
    That wasn’t what did me in this time.
    Rick was hot. It was that simple. Especially now that I knew what he was hiding beneath that tailored suit. I was a captive audience too, sitting around a broad table with nothing to do but look right at him and listen.
    On some level, I was aware that he was explaining a new project he wanted to break ground on sometime next year. Something about a new convention center overlooking the river. A massive project with a price tag that had enough zeros to give the firm’s entire upper echelon wet dreams for months.
    Something like that, anyway. The content was all white noise to me, because all I heard was his voice.
    He was completely focused and didn’t seem to notice me at all, which was good, of course, but how the hell did he do it? The more he spoke in his stern this is what I want and I won’t accept any less tone, the more I heard the echoes of his breathless whispers in my ears. He talked about cold, calculated numbers and strategies. I heard him moaning and begging and damn near sobbing for more. Someone asked a question, to which he gave a sharp “yes”, and my mind superimposed a very different “yes” in its place.
    McNeill, focus . I rubbed my eyes and cleared my throat. I doubled my efforts to concentrate on what he was saying, but all I managed to do was focus even harder on him .
    Another form of distraction started creeping in. The weight of my job—not to mention those of my crew—pressed down on my shoulders. With CGI and 3D printing replacing a lot of people like me, my prospects weren’t great. There weren’t many options for a dinosaur, and with three kids in college, I