have to admit, this is the first time you weren’t given the big project,” Adam said. “There have been rumblings over how you’re dealing with that.”
“I couldn’t care less about Singles Inc. I’ve already spent two years proving myself to Hall. I don’t need another big project to showcase my abilities.”
And it was true. Matt hadn’t come to Hall Technologies just to do more Web design. He’d come to learn the ropes from Brayton Hall, the man who was about to blow the lid off the traditional Web-design and electronic-advertising firms. Hall had spent two decades at IBM, being in on the ground floor of Internet technology back when the public barely knew what a dot-com was. He’d learned the rules from one of the industry leaders, then set out on his own to break them.
With the larger firms building corporate structures that turned them into slow-moving barges, Hall Technologies stayed nimble, hiring some of the brightest independent Web designers, who were accustomed to coming up with innovative ideas and delivering them fast. To the big players they were barely a blip on the radar, but Matt knew that was all about to change and he had every intention of being the guy to Hall’s right when it happened.
“Not when there’s a management position hitting the rumor mill, huh, pal?” Adam asked.
Matt was about to take a bite of his double cheeseburger when he stopped. “You heard about that?”
“Word’s slowly getting around. I don’t know how much truth there is to it, but we’ve got over a dozen designers in the department and the company keeps growing. Hiring another manager seems to fit.”
“So what have you heard?”
Adam casually glanced around the room, making sure people with the wrong ears hadn’t stepped into the restaurant, before answering.
“Only that he’s looking to start up a specialized project team. Hall wants to go after some of the bigger clients and he’s got ideas on how to do that without turning into another corporate slug. What those ideas are, I don’t know, but I’ve heard he wants someone to take the lead on it so he can continue to focus on acquisitions.”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “That’s what I heard, too.” And the thought left him salivating. This was exactly the kind of thing he’d been waiting for, the precise reason he’d left his cushy job to prove himself all over again to Brayton Hall. The man was brilliant, and Matt wanted to be the recipient of that wisdom to someday maybe make partner or rival Hall with his own design firm.
Either way, it was a win-win situation, and instead of bothering himself with Singles Inc., he’d rather sniff out what he had to do to land that new position.
And when he got it, he’d be glad nothing had ever come of him and Carly. Despite her disdain for him, she was one of the sharpest minds at Hall Technologies. If Matt was to land this job, she’d be the first one he’d ask for. Granted, there was a chance she’d laugh in his face at the offer. He knew she’d resented him since the day he’d been hired, and his visit to her cube this morning had been yet another attempt on his part to chat it up and maybe broach a truce.
But, as always, he’d opened his mouth, said the wrong thing and started the downward spiral that only solidified her contempt for the ground he walked on. He hadn’t meant to make the crack about the survey. He’d just seen her answers, turned hard as a rock and blurted out the first thing that popped into his mind—that her answer couldn’t be true.
Because he needed it not to be true.
If he did get to assemble this new team, and Carly was on it…Well, he’d already been hot enough under the collar when it came to her without believing she had a wild side when it came to sex.
Knowledge like that, if proven true, could likely kill him.
“And I take it you’re the man for the job?” Adam asked.
“I’d like to think so. Any rumors where that’s concerned?”
“Only speculation. There isn’t anyone in Programming or Sales with the expertise to handle it, so most people are assuming they’d pick someone from our unit, most likely you or Carly.”
He raised a brow. “Carly?”
Adam shrugged. “She’s been here from the start, had been the number one designer before you came along. And she’s a team player, a favorite among the programmers and business-development execs. She’s got the affection of everyone on staff, so in that respect,” he said, tipping his glass toward Matt, “I’d consider her a contender if I were you.”
Matt dismissed Adam’s enthusiasm but didn’t let the sentiment show on his face. Sure, everything he’d said about Carly was true, but since Matt had come on board, Hall had practically been grooming him for a spot on the management team. All signs pointed to the idea that she would be working for him someday, not the other way around, but he didn’t need to further strain his relationship with her by spreading that notion around.
So he lied.
“Yeah, I suppose Carly would be another viable candidate.” Then, getting back to his meal, he added, “I guess we’ll have to see how things pan out.”
2
“DO YOU THINK I’m funny?”
Carly posed the question to her friend, Bev, as they stepped out of the offices of Hall Technologies and into the bright midday sunshine. For almost a year now the two women had been spending their lunch hours power walking through the industrial park that housed Hall Technologies and several other high-tech firms just north of San Francisco. That was, of course, unless the weather was bad or one of them was up against a deadline. Or if they had errands to run or there was a sale at Paulson’s. And never on Fridays, when the Sub Shack ran their two-for-one lunch special.
In truth, today was the first time in two weeks they’d sufficiently run out of excuses and opted for the walk.
“What do you mean? Funny ha-ha or funny strange?” Bev asked.
“Funny. Humorous. Someone who can make a joke and take one.”
Letting the door swing closed behind her, Carly followed Bev down the sidewalk toward Lakeford Park, a block from the office. Structured like a town square, the park was the primary destination for the nearby office workers looking for a comfortable place to enjoy the sun. A half dozen restaurants lined the shady square, most only open for lunch, though Lone Dog Coffee caught the morning rush, and Flippers—equipped with a liquor license—stayed open for happy hour.
Separating the tree-lined park from the soggy marshlands to the east was a paved jogging path that supposedly stretched all the way to the small airfield a few miles away, though Bev and Carly never cared to see for themselves. Between the plantar fasciitis that ailed Bev’s feet and Carly’s general hatred of exercise, the two always opted for the short route, which involved cutting off the jogging path at the far end of the park and circling through the square, picking up something for lunch on the way back around.
“I don’t know.” Bev shrugged. “I suppose I’d consider you funny.”
“You suppose?” That didn’t sound convincing.
“Yeah, I suppose. I mean, you wouldn’t make my top-ten list of hilarious people,
