Great Exploitations(2)

“Of course it stands,” he said. “Are you interested in coming on board?”

“Yeah, actually I am. That super secretive contracting gig might not be for me.”

“And you think Callahan Industries might be the gig for you?”

I heard his amused smile in his tone. “I think there’s only one way to find out.” If he was going to play the conversation double-meaning game, I would too.

“What position did you have in mind? Development, program management, systems analysis?”

Might as well get started. I had no time to waste when it came to seducing my ex. “I don’t know.” I lowered my voice a note and slowed it down two notes. “What position do you want me in?”

He was silent for so long, I checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.

“How about program management?” he suggested after clearing his throat. “One of my best PM’s just got promoted, and I haven’t filled the spot yet. You’d be overseeing a team of developers in Research and Development—keeping them on deadline, conducting team meetings, making sure they’re properly fed and watered, that kind of thing.”

“Fed and watered? Am I babysitting a litter of puppies or a team of employees?”

Henry’s soft chuckle rolled through my body. “These are R&D developers. They’re like a team of huskies—they’d run themselves to their deaths if someone didn’t force them to take a break.”

“And these are the kind of people you want me overseeing?” I watched the waves crashing into the shore and concentrated on the conversation, not the person I was having said conversation with.

“I can’t think of anyone better, actually. There was a reason I gave you my business card and practically begged you to come work for me.”

Yeah, there was a reason. But in the end, it wasn’t about employment and program management. “Overseeing a team of pocket-protector wearing, Mountain Dew addicted R&D developers? Where do I sign up?”

“You’ll take it?” Henry sounded as skeptical as I imagined he felt. Days ago, I’d been adamant about not working for him, and there I was, a step above begging to be brought on board.

“I’ll take it.”

Another long silence stretched between us.

“It may be none of my business, and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, Eve”—great, this ought to be good—“but why do you want to work for Callahan Industries after . . . everything that happened between us? Quite frankly, I would have guessed my company would be the one you’d want to destroy, not come to work for.”

He was right. His company was the one I wanted to destroy. And he was wrong. His company was the one I was going to destroy. Along with the rest of his life.

“Your company was the last one I wanted to come work for. That was, until I started contracting at all the others and realized how many of the same chauvinistic dickheads I went to school with are now running those companies. You and I might have history—bad history—but I’m a firm believer in leaving the past behind and moving forward.” Yeah, that might be one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told. “I’d rather work for a person I know is more concerned that an employee has a brain instead of a dick.”

“Wait. You don’t have a dick? Because that’s a deal breaker right there. I only hire testosterone-ridden, top-of-the-food-chain, genetically superior men.”

I rolled my eyes. “Liar. You wouldn’t be at the top of the tech food chain if you actually believed that.”

“No? Why’s that?”

“Because you men work, and we women get the job done.”

I joined Henry halfway through his laugh. Until I remembered how, once upon a time, I’d lived entire days and months of sharing laughs and moments like those with Henry Callahan. The pain of what had been generated a new kind of pain—the pain of what could never be again.

It was time to end that call. If something as simple as a phone call was so painful, how would I make it through all that was to come? I didn’t have an answer, but I wouldn’t rest until I found one.

“So when do you want me to start?”

“I’ll skip the blasé act because I’m desperate. Would tomorrow be too soon?”

A smile curved into place. “Tomorrow would be perfect.” The sooner I got in there and figured out how to weed out Miss Competition, the sooner I could make sure it was my bed Henry would dive into.

“Excellent. I’ll have my receptionist get the paperwork started, and you can finish the rest with her tomorrow morning.”