Unorthodox Therapy (6 page)

However, this would be the first time I'd visited an employee at his home.

How appropriate would it be? Especially when I planned to announce his promotion next week.

A low growl escaped my lips and I slammed a fist against the soft duvet. It was just an informal invitation for drinks between two people, for God's sake. Nothing to write home about. If I had to be honest, Thomas was also a friend. So why should meeting him be any different than visiting anybody else?

Just go there, act natural and see how the evening pans out.

Finally, I decided on a black skirt suit, red blouse, and charcoal gray pumps. No jewelry. Evening makeup. My hair would be in a pinned bun with some loose tendrils escaping. Not too strict and not too casual.

As I started applying some foundation to my face, I thought about the past seven years. There were a myriad of reasons why hiring Thomas had been a bad idea at the time. People who used sob stories to cloud my judgment were a pet peeve of mine. Back then, he sounded way too sincere for me to ignore his obvious problems. There was a rare combination of despair and determination in his voice.

However, I couldn't decide entirely on an emotional level. My hiring policy was never influenced by the applicant's gender, race, religion, sexual orientation or any personal feelings I might have had. There were plenty of female programmers and designers working at ChaosTech Solutions. None of them were hired for the sake of women’s rights or political correctness, though. Every single one had earned their place with hard work and proficiency.

Over the years, I'd had my fair share of interviews with women who had a misguided idea of what feminism was all about. The most outrageous case was some pink-haired, tattooed punk/rock/goth chick with heavy eyeliner, who had read Stieg Larson's
Millennium
trilogy too many times. Unfortunately, she had more social convictions than skills. Her main motivation was simply to make a breakthrough in a male-dominated working field. Other than that, her idea of software development was cringe-worthy and the trial code she wrote for me gave me a serious headache. The girl had the talent to mess up things in epic proportions. When I told her she didn't meet the requirements, the little wench practically exploded.

“The women’s rights movement is at its current stage because of sell-out bitches like you in favor of the patriarchy.” She emphasized her point by spitting in my face. Her eyes went wide as I simply reached out for a
Kleenex
to wipe my face and gave her my most charming, saccharine smile.

“For your information, miss, feminism doesn't mean I should give you any special preferences over other applicants with better qualifications just because you’ve got a vagina. Have a beautiful day and good luck in your job search.”

What mattered most was that the employee did their job well and fit in with the rest of the team. Thomas's results were pretty good, better than average, even if far from the level I usually required. He did have skills but needed a little more training and guidance. I took a huge leap of faith with him but it had turned out to be one of my most successful moves in terms of recruitment.

I hadn’t expected him to survive past his trial week. My prediction was that by the end of the first day he would wave the white flag and either go back to his mom or apply for student loans. When I arrived at work on the Monday, though, he was already at the office, dressed according to my instructions. Thomas was reading the current e-mails and studying my schedule with absolute concentration. I almost didn’t recognize him. He looked so much more grown up than the day of his interview, more serious and professional. When my new assistant asked me how I took my coffee, I repeated to him that I didn’t hire him for the position of a barista. He replied, in a low, respectful tone, that he’d be delighted. After all, he knew what a risk I'd taken by hiring him and wanted to show me some gratitude. In the end, I gave in, but I stressed that he wouldn’t win any points by doing things that weren't included in his job description.

It turned out my new employee didn’t need such ‘extra credit’. He was smart, quick and efficient, and never made any mistakes that would cost me the respect of my clients. He never complained if he had to stay after business hours. Sometimes, he shyly asked me if he could stay a bit longer in order to study and practice.

In the end, when it was clear Thomas was motivated and didn’t have a problem with hard work, I decided to test him. I’d often give him simple tasks or let him study pieces of the code from our projects on
GitHub
. He never stopped surprising me with his quick learning. I was impressed by how much he had progressed since the previous summer.

Thomas had been my personal assistant for over a year when it became clear he was wasting his potential by doing administrative work. No matter how much I liked him, I knew he’d be much more useful as a developer and I’d have been stupid not to invest in his talent. We made a deal that the company would pay for his education in an accelerated program in computer science with the prerequisite he’d work for ChaosTech Solutions for at least two years after graduating. Meanwhile, Thomas would continue working part-time and I would have some of my best programmers show him the ropes.

When I made him that offer, his expression warmed my heart and made me smile genuinely. He took a step forward and spread his arms to hug me but, in the end, decided against it. It somehow left me a bit disappointed.

I was sad to part with him for he was everything I could have asked for in an assistant. His calm, patient attitude and pleasant personality helped me regain my balance. It wasn't an exaggeration to say he knew me better than even my lovers.

Perhaps that was what worried me the most. There had never been any intimacy between us. Well, sometimes I would catch him stealing appreciative glances at me, but he was never obvious or disrespectful so it was easy for me to pretend not to notice. Sometimes, we'd talk about life outside of work but nothing more. Except that one time...

It was a morning pretty similar to the one I just had – an important client, a make or break situation. I'd hardly slept the previous night and my hands were shaking so strongly I couldn't light my cigarette. Thomas entered my office quietly, without me even acknowledging his presence. He took the lighter out of my trembling fingers and helped me kindle the flame. Then he slid his hand down my wrist and caressed it gently while staring at my eyes with sympathy and a hint of disapproval. His touch was way too intimate but in that moment, I was in need of comfort. He moved his palm to my shoulder and squeezed it in a firm yet tender manner. When my assistant finally spoke, his low, pacifying voice made my body shudder with sudden arousal.

“Breathe in and out slowly. Relax. You’ll be fine.”

Having said those words, Thomas moved away and gave me his typical kind smile, telling me he'd prepare the written proposals.

I was not sure what happened between us that day. I'd never been attracted to Thomas before but his touch had woken something in me. The sudden need to be protected and cherished overwhelmed my mind. The independent spirit and character strength I'd been blessed and cursed with rarely provoked tenderness in men I'd been involved with. To be honest, it had never occurred to me to ask for it before that simple caress. I wasn't the type of woman who craved cuddles and intimacy at the end of a tough day. A warm bath, a good book and a glass of wine would do the job just fine, and they didn't come with any strings attached.

So what the hell had happened?

And why was I giving it any serious thought? Even if Thomas hadn’t been my employee, our age difference was a problem. I knew a couple of women caught in the allure of the May/December romance. They were flourishing and happier than ever while it lasted, but once the relationship lost its fresh fragrance and died its natural death, they were left in tears, with shattered self-confidence, chugging not so healthy doses of wine or pills. It was a trap I didn't want to be caught in.

The thought of my friend Jennifer was pretty fresh. She was a marketing specialist at a large media company – strong and competent, with striking intelligence yet unlucky in love. Shortly after her divorce, Jen fell prey to the easy charm of a much younger art student. He compared her beauty to the brightest stars and drew naked portraits of her while emptying her bank account. That guy was obvious, a greasy bastard with more charm than talent and brains. It was easy to predict they wouldn't last too long, but Jennifer was beside herself with happiness and ignored all the red flags. When the inevitable end knocked on her door, she crumbled under the weight of her grief. It was disheartening to watch a former beauty turn into a pathetic creature, lying on my couch, crying her eyes out and drinking copious amounts of wine.

Was it a good idea for me to go to his place? It was not too late to call him and cancel our evening.

However, Thomas was proud of the home he had made for himself. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me to say so, but I thought he wanted me to feel proud of how far he had come in life, to show me he had risen above his bad circumstances. I could tell by his tone of voice how much my approval meant to him so a simple visit wouldn’t cost me a lot.

Also… he couldn’t have made his offer on a more appropriate night of my life.

I finished applying my lipstick, took my purse and headed for the door. A grown woman should not get scared over such silly fears. I was not a hormonal teenage girl who couldn't help herself around her crush. And come on, I wasn’t crushing on Thomas! He was like a younger brother to me.

Always do what you're afraid of
.

Most guys who worked at ChaosTech Solutions lived in Pacific Heights or Portero Hill and commuted to our headquarters. My loft was in one of the new skyscrapers in Mission Bay. It didn’t make any sense considering how much I hated sharp noises, but I adored the city’s bustling activity.

Thomas had moved to a house in the Marina even though it was one of the longest commuting routes to Silicon Valley. It was also an expensive neighborhood, even with the generous salaries my techies were paid. It was a strange choice indeed but he seemed happy with it. He was generally one of the earliest to arrive at work each day so I had no business questioning his choice of location.

His house was about half an hour away from my building on a good day. With the Friday traffic, though, it would take me ages to get to him. When I descended to the underground parking lot, my cell phone exploded with the sound of Guns N’ Roses and “You Could Be Mine.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
I needed a confrontation with my ex just like I needed a hole in the head, so I just got in my Lexus and ignored the incoming call while whistling to myself. When I pulled the car out onto the street, the rock n' roll music cut out mid-tune. I checked my phone at the first red light and saw I had a voicemail message.

“I'm coming over to pick my stuff up in an hour. I'd rather not see your frigid ass while I'm there.”

I let out a low chuckle as I drove into the slowly falling night.

“Frigid, huh? It wouldn't be so if you had learned how to eat pussy.” It wasn't a satisfactory retort when I couldn’t see his face turning red.

I got on the highway and merged into the busy sea of cars, lost in my thoughts. Maybe it would be wiser to go back and make sure the bastard didn’t steal anything. If he kept a steady address, I'd probably pack his garbage and send it to him straight away.

But the day had gone exceptionally well. The new clients absolutely loved my team's ideas and the marketing plan, which took me a long time and great effort. Their enthusiasm at all the prospects was still buzzing in my brain. It even helped me decrease my need for nicotine, albeit for a short time.

Why ruin such a fantastic mood by looking at that asshole’s mug? Besides, I was really curious to see Thomas's place and didn’t want to stand him up.

So what if my ex ended up stealing something or trashing my apartment? It would be a valuable lesson for me to never get involved with sleazeballs. Ever again. I’d also have to do a thorough background check before I started dating anyone. Luckily, all my truly valuable possessions were under lock and key in the building's safe and there was a good level of security.

I used the traffic jam to send a quick text demanding he left the key under the doormat. I tried my best to push away depressing thoughts of my private life for the rest of the ride. As the old adage said: ‘Lucky at cards, unlucky in love.’

I did, however, have some luck on my side, and reached Thomas's address right on time. His two-level beige house was part of a row of homes on a peaceful street parallel with Marina Boulevard. After I found a good parking spot and got out of the car, I took a better look at his home. There were small patches of grass in front, as well as decorative bushes and lit lanterns. The building blended nicely with the rest of the landscape and appeared cozy and spacious. Its upper level had a set of white-framed bay windows. It made me wonder briefly if Thomas had a hidden exhibitionist streak. I laughed nervously at the silly thought

I shook my head, locked my car and headed for the front door, which was made of some dark, massive wood with a frosted glass panel at its center. I’d always loved such details due to their illusion of transparency.

Thomas opened the door about a minute after I rang his doorbell. The nervousness got to me again as he gave me a broad, affectionate smile. He wore similar clothes to those he wore to work but his shirt was black. The first three buttons were undone and showed a bit of his toned chest. His black hair was neatly combed.