Animatrica was one of few studios in North America that offered generous perks to its employees. They hired an in-house chef to cater workers’ lunches and dinners. There was a free gym, recreational lounge, laundry center, and a quiet place where the employees could take a nap. Not to mention the free fresh fruit and snack bar. And in return, Animatrica expected you to “practically live” at work, which she had no problem doing, considering she was single. Eighty percent of its employees were under the age of thirty and workaholics just like her.
The company got popular about eighteen months ago when its gaming apps became a worldwide sensation. A Silicon Valley tech giant bought the rights for a cool $6.2 billion, putting Quinn’s family a newly minted Forbes’ list of the nouveau riche. And a highly anticipated sequel was currently under development—the very game Vanessa and her team had been working on since spring.
If she got fired today, that meant she had to kiss the project goodbye. Her blood, sweat and tears. That game was her baby.
Just thinking about it made her want to cry.
Vanessa blinked back her tears and pushed the stairwell door open. The fifth floor of the building was manned by a hag named Mary, the floor secretary—probably the oldest of the employees at Animatrica. Rumor said she was in her fifties.
And today, Mary greeted her with a dark scowl usually saved for the unfortunate souls who had to go to the fifth floor to deal with one of the managers.
Vanessa motioned toward Quinn’s office. “I was told His Lordship wanted me.”
Mary wasn’t amused by her joke. She gave her the iciest stare before she flicked her wrist, telling her to “go.”
Vanessa wheeled around and exhaled deep before knocking on Quinn’s office door. It was ajar.
“Come in,” a deep, mellifluous, basso profondo kind of voice replied.
Vanessa had forgotten to breathe for a moment. “You wanted to see me, Quinn?” He insisted that he remain on a first name basis with all his employees.
He lifted his gaze from his computer screen. His expression was bland, and betrayed nothing. “Please close the door behind you.”
Vanessa winced inwardly. Argh. Not a good sign. Quinn was an advocate of transparency. He rarely told his employees to close the door of his office. Unless he fired people. Jesus. Her heart dropped into her guts. This was it. She was done for. Her fate had been sealed. She braced herself for the forthcoming unpleasantness. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry afterward. Because nothing was more degrading than crying at work after losing a job. Of course, she had never been fired before, but there was the first time for everything.
She closed the door with a soft click.
Quinn waved at the empty chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Vanessa.”
Like a rusty robot too frightened to squeak, she slowly planted herself in the aforementioned chair. She nervously scanned her surroundings, taking it all in. It seemed Quinn had prepared for her termination. There was usually no extra chair by his desk. He received his guests in the library or the private conference room.
Vanessa forced herself to look at him, facing him eye to eye. She wondered if apologizing or begging him to let her keep her job would do her any good at this point. Unlike his uncle, Quinn wasn’t easily swayed by theatrics. If a madman pointed a gun at his head and forced him to admit the color of his blood was blue, Quinn would still say red, even if it cost him his dear life.
Quinn was a man of principle.
A filtered stream of light from the window panes bounced on his chiseled features. Vanessa resented the fact that some people were blessed with everything. He was smart, wealthy, and great looking. Maybe great looking was an understatement. He was drop-dead gorgeous.
Rumor had it that Quinn had some Latino blood in his Anglo line, making him rather exotic. Quinn’s skin was caramel but his eyes were vivid green. His hair was the color of deep amber. The girls in the office often fawned over his emerald eyes or the lustrous shade of his hair. A few confessed they were dying to lick him, to see if he tasted as good as he looked.
Vanessa never understood such dumb obsessions. But then again, she wasn’t like other girls. She didn’t like to waste her time on things that could be explained with simple logic.
Quinn cut his gaze from the laptop. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “How are you this morning?” He sounded almost nice.
Too friendly, in fact.
Vanessa cringed inwardly. Was he trying to soften the blow before royally sacking her? “This is it then. Are you going to fire me?”
Surprisingly, Quinn looked amused. “Sometimes I forget you’re not like the others. You never beat around the bush. That’s a quality I like in you, Vanessa. So I’ll be frank. I called you in today regarding the incident at the New Year’s Eve party.”