Neanderthal Seeks Human (Knitting in the City #1)(45)
Author: Penny Reid

“It’s actually a really great product.” I scrolled down to a description of the system, “I checked last week and they just pushed a new release.”

Quinn’s voice was very close to my ear as he spoke and I could feel the air around me change as he leaned over my shoulder. “That’s not the point. I’m sure it’s a great product but we can’t use open source.”

“We also couldn’t apply it to the Infinite Systems group.” Steven sounded matter-of-fact as he chimed in and shrugged his shoulders, “But, for our corporate partners, it would answer a lot of their questions on the billing structure.”

I frowned, looking from Carlos to Steven; “What am I missing here? Why can’t we use open source?”

Quinn placed his hand over mine and pulled the iPad between us, forcing me to turn toward him. He wasn’t looking at me but rather at the screen of the tablet as he responded in a mumble, “Data security issues.”

My voice was slightly unsteady as I tried to focus on something other than the feeling of his hand covering mine and holding me in place, “Well, well why can’t we use it for the Infinite Systems group?”

Quinn lifted his gaze to me abruptly, his eyes narrowed and silence stretched. I thought he wasn’t going to answer. His jaw seemed to be set and his mouth drawn in a particularly thin line as though he were considering something unpleasant. I took the opportunity to look at him, really look at him. A twisting pain originating just under the left side of my rib cage made my breath catch; I missed looking at Quinn and I missed talking to Quinn.

But he wasn’t Quinn. He was Mr. Sullivan. The Boss.

I licked my lips and broke the silence, “I guess it doesn’t really matter, I just thought- I just thought it would be good to keep things consistent.”

A momentary flash of something that looked almost like alarm crossed Quinn’s features and he turned to Steven; his voice sounded accusatory, “I thought Janie only worked on the public accounts?”

Steven lifted his hands slightly as though he were defending himself, “She does. She does, we split the two. I handle all the private clients on the back end but-” Steven’s eyes met mine for a brief moment before he continued, “but Carlos and I were thinking that some of the Infinite Systems clients might respond well to her-”

“I thought I was very clear.” Quinn’s voice, although quiet, had the cadence of a growl and he slowly pulled the iPad completely out of my grip, arranging it on his lap and turning his attention to the figures on the screen.

Carlos cleared his throat and I could only watch the strange exchange with wide, confused eyes; “Mr. Sullivan, Janie is very talented. Please consider-”

Quinn huffed, “I won’t. Don’t bring it up again.”

He was angry. Quinn looked even more amazing when he was angry. The silliness of my priority in thought process dawned on me sluggishly as I watched him review the information I prepared. I knew that, instead of focusing on his good looks, I should be focusing on why I was being purposefully excluded from participation in Infinite Systems, despite Carlos and Steven’s suggestions. Maybe it had something to do with my suspicion that I didn’t deserve my job. That I’d been hired based on a whim, not based on ability.

As I pulled my attention from him I swallowed, my throat felt thick and tight; I surveyed the group: Steven briefly met my gaze and he gave me a tight, apologetic smile. Carlos’s expression was one of stormy frustration directed at his hands on his lap. Olivia seemed to regard me with something resembling displeasure and suspicion.

Before my mind could wander Quinn abruptly dropped the iPad in my lap; his voice aloof, “Send the web link to the development group and have them use the open source product to start drawing up requirements. Now, before we touch down I want to review the invoices for Outrageous and the scope of work for the Las Vegas properties.”

The subject of my involvement with Infinite Systems seemingly closed, we turned to the subject of the upcoming meeting.

Throughout the two-hour gauntlet that followed, I did my best to stay focused on Quinn’s questions and not his mouth; on where he pointed and not his hands. I swear whatever pheromones Quinn Sullivan secreted were the equivalent of Janie-cat-nip.

The most difficult and dangerous parts were when he would shift close to me and lean over my shoulder. I found myself resisting the urge to lean into his coat lapel and smell him. At one point I became slightly fixated on the pulse point at the base of Quinn’s neck and nearly missed one of Carlos’s questions.

Carlos seemed to take my distracted response as a sign of fatigue and suggested a break. Everyone immediately agreed. Thankfully, Quinn excused himself as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and walked to the back of the plane to make a call.

I didn’t allow my gaze to linger on his backside as he walked away (even though I wanted to). Instead I lifted my eyes to Steven’s and he winked at me. His small gesture served to calm my nerves and I forced my hands to relax on the case of the iPad.

“You did really great.” Carlos was the first to speak, his tone was quiet. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be respectful of Quinn’s telephone call or if he just didn’t want to be overheard.

“Thanks.” I gave him a tight lipped smile, “Is he always like this? On trips?”

Steven nodded, “It can be pretty brutal. But, you know, he’s the Boss. He gets the job done and so must all of we.”

Olivia leaned over the aisle, “I don’t mind. I think he’s brilliant.”

Steven muttered something under his breath but I couldn’t hear it. I frowned at him and he mouthed: “I’ll tell you later.”

“Looks like we’re almost there.” Carlos absentmindedly remarked as he glanced out the window.

As if on cue the attendant appeared and told us all to buckle up. We were about to land. As I buckled my seat belt I noted that Quinn was taking a seat in one of the four-seat clusters at the back of the plane and hadn’t yet ended his call. His eyes briefly met mine and I thought I saw him smile- one of his whisper, barely there smiles. Then he looked away and frowned- one of his serious, fiercely irritated frowns.

The plane began its descent and I was still firmly seated on my dramacoaster of uncertainty.

Just… great.

As soon as I stepped off the plane and into the dry heat of the Las Vegas private airport I was immediately struck by how colorful and colorless the landscape was. The desert was rich hues of browns, reds and oranges but nothing else. It was heat and sand and fire and gasoline and cigarettes. I was abruptly thirsty.

Everyone else was already down the ramp as I had opted to hide in the bathroom until I was certain everyone was gone. A little apart from the airplane were two black limos. Steven, Carlos and Olivia handed off their bags to one driver and Quinn was standing next to the second limo, engaged in a conversation on his cell phone. I pulled my roller bag after me down the ramp and headed toward Steven and the first limo; however, before I could hand off my bag, I heard Quinn’s voice from behind me.

“Ms. Morris- you’ll be riding with me.”

I turned just my head toward him and hesitated, having some difficulty comprehending that I wasn’t going to be taking limo #2 with Steven and Carlos and Olivia; I would be taking limo #1 with Mr. Sullivan Boss McHotpants.

Steven reached forward, squeezing my hand and keeping me in place for a brief moment, his voice was low enough to ensure the comment was unheard by others, “Oh Janie, he’s going to subject you to the silent twenty minute car ride from hell. After the meeting this afternoon we’ll order room service and have a sleep over, we can commiserate and you cry on my shoulder.”

I lifted my eyebrows in alarm, remembering Steven’s story about riding alone with Quinn, wondering if, now that it was established he was my boss, Quinn would stop speaking to me. He seemed so different on the plane, distant and aloof. I imagined we would sit silently in the limo while his expression vacillated between stoic and apathetic.

My stomach suddenly hurt.

Driver #1 reached me to take my bag and I slowly followed. Quinn was still on his phone pacing back and forth behind the limo when I reached the open passenger door. I slipped into the dark car; it took my eyes several seconds to adjust. This was the second time I’d been in a limo; the first time was on my worst day ever. I wondered what Vincent, my driver, was up to at this moment.

This limo was significantly larger than the first one. Black leather clad benches stretched in long lines on either side of the car’s perimeter. What looked like a fully stocked bar sat just under the privacy window toward the front. The inside had that new car smell plus the thick earthy scent of fine leather.

In lieu of sitting in bench facing forward I opted for one of the side seats. I didn’t particularly want to sit next to Quinn. I felt distance in proximity might make the imminent car ride from hell a bit more bearable.

Abruptly Quinn entered the car on the same side I had. The door closed behind him and he glanced to his right, paused, then surveyed the rest of the interior. His eyes rested on me almost immediately; I did not return his gaze but rather felt his stare as I concentrated on the crystal decanters at the front of the cabin.