Possessed By You (Overworld Underground Book 1) Page 17
"Congrats on the promotion," Jack said.
"I hope this guy is as cool as he seems," Kevin said. "And not just some asshole waiting to stab us in the back."
I knew that feeling very well—though I feared Tyler may want to stab me elsewhere with something other than a knife.
Jack shrugged. "I think he's for real." He gave me a look. "What did you talk about with him over lunch?"
"Um," I said, trying to think of what exactly we had talking about. "Mainly that I would be working with you two." I gave them a sheepish smile. "So, what do you want me to do?"
The two men looked at each other. Turned back to me and shrugged.
"I'm not sure yet," Kevin said. "Maybe we'll know more after the meeting. We have to brief Mr. Rock before the entire staff meeting." He checked the wall clock. "In about fifteen minutes. Grab some coffee if you want and meet us in there."
"Very well." I went to the kitchen, made some Earl Grey tea, grabbed a pen and paper, and went into the conference room. Despite Kevin's assurances, my hands shook and I wondered if I was prepared for this.
Tyler came in a moment later. "Good morning, Miss Glass. I trust you feel rested."
I felt a warm blush rise in my cheeks. "Very rested," I said, suddenly recalling a dream I'd had last night. He'd been in it, and hadn't been wearing very much. My warm blush turned hot. I fanned myself with my notepad.
"Are you comfortable, Miss Glass?" He set a newspaper and a paper coffee cup bearing the Java Hippo logo on the table. "I can turn down the heat."
I thought it quite impossible for him to turn down the sort of heat he used on me. "It is a bit warm."
Kevin and Jack appeared a moment later and started their presentation. I sat back and took notes, though it hardly seemed necessary. They planned to dismantle the current order of things and break the departments into self-regulating teams with shared rewards between Sales and Programming so all sides would benefit from their work. It had a couple of flaws I noticed.
"Is there a mechanism for handling low performers?" I asked. "At university we had to form project teams to complete various challenges. Sometimes we'd end up with people who didn't do much work, but expected to cash in anyway."
"And what did you do about those people?" Tyler turned his head to me, his face genuinely curious, it seemed, as opposed to condescending.
"We spoke with the professor and asked if we could rate our fellows and let the professor decide on their final grade based on that." I shrugged. "We made everyone aware of the rule and told them that not only would the professor grade them, but we would as well, so if they didn't pull their own weight, they wouldn't get the same grade. It worked for the most part, although there were always people who thought they could brownnose us."
"I know for sure we have people like that in Programming," Jack said. "That sounds like a really good idea. We could have team members evaluate each other's performance on projects."
"Let's put that in beta for both departments." Tyler looked at each of us. "Any other suggestions?"
"What about support personnel like Janet, Sandra, and me?" I said. "We're not really on these teams, but I'm sure we'll contribute. Shouldn't support people have a stake in the outcome as well?"
"Good point," Kevin said. "I used to ask Sandra for help, but she'd more or less ignore me because Mr. Jameson—uh." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, it's a good idea."
"You're talking about her allegedly sleeping with the former owner?" Tyler smirked. "Those days are over. I think it's a great idea to give everyone in the company a stake in the outcome." He nodded toward the light switch. "Would you turn those off, Jack?"
Jack turned them off. Tyler fiddled with the projector remote for a moment before it came on. He flicked through several graphs. "As you can see, sales and productivity are way down. The company is going under unless we pull it back up."
"Jesus, I knew the situation was bad," Kevin said. "But not this bad."
Tyler nodded. "Jameson was running out of cash. It was only a matter of time before he started laying off people."
"And you came in and rescued us?" I raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"I'm not a scavenger if that's what you mean," Tyler replied. "I see potential with this company. I see skilled people who, given the chance, can make good things happen for themselves." He scribbled a few things on a notepad. "Let's give everyone a stake and a fair share. I'll work out percentages and we'll hold a vote. For now I think we have a good start—a thick hunk of meat the other employees can sink their teeth into." He sat back and put his hands behind his head. "Do you agree?"
We replied in the affirmative all around.
"Is Mr. Jameson out of the picture?" Kevin asked.
"He took his money and retired," Tyler said. "Thomas Jones and Fred Hinkle are now members of their respective departments, as accountable as the rest."
"This should be interesting." Jack gave Kevin a look.
Kevin raised his eyebrows. "Boy and how."
Chapter 20
After a brief break, the entire staff was summoned to the conference room for the big meeting. The place teemed with people. I hadn't realized there were so many people working at the company, but then again, I hadn't seen them packed into one place. Needless to say, there weren't enough donuts to go around, and the grumbling started early.
Tyler entered the room and a hush settled over everyone. He made his way through the crowd, and hopped up on the conference table. "Hello, everyone."
A few mutters of, "Hi," went up from the employees.
"Seriously, that's all you got?" He rolled his eyes. "Hello, everyone." His baritone voice seemed to destroy the silence, infecting everyone around him, including me.
"HELLO!" everyone shouted back.
"Yes, they're alive!" He set his arms akimbo and grinned, his perfect white teeth gleaming.
"There are big changes afoot," he said, voice projecting across the room, reaching even me where I stood near the door.
The room was so silent with anticipation, it was almost scary.
Tyler laid out his plans and told everyone the dire straits the company was in, his brutal honesty causing some wide eyes and worried looks across the room. When he explained the new order, I heard two people grumbling behind me and turned to see Jones and Hinkle standing just outside in the hallway.
"It'll never work." Jones's lip curled into a snarl.
"Morons," Hinkle added.
I wondered if Tyler might be better off firing those two.
"Teams will grade their members on performance." Tyler's voice grew more excited. "Everyone will have a stake." He pointed a finger at Janet. "You'll have a stake. And you, and you." He pointed to other people. "We will all share in the profits."
"And what if we lose money?" Jones shouted. "Will we share that too?"
Tyler nodded. "That's a great question." He took in the serious looks around the room. "Nobody will lose their salaries. The company is already operating at a loss. I will not lay off anyone to free up money. I will only consider that option for those who don't pull their weight. If the company goes under, we all go under together. It's sink or swim for us, people, but given what I know about the quality of products coming from this company, I don't see how we can fail." He pumped a fist in the air. "We will rise, and we will pull this enterprise to the top!"
A big cheer roared throughout the room, startling me.
One of the female programmers actually swooned and leaned back against a surprised man behind her.
I felt a bit weak myself, looking at this statuesque man, his shirtsleeves rolled up, face set in a wide grin. Tyler looked so confident in himself, in us, that I literally felt I could do anything. My God, this man was a bloody rock star. Was he crazy, or could we actually do it?
"Insanity," Jones said.
"Morons," Hinkle added.
The other employees didn't seem to be listening to the two naysayers. I heard one man chatting excitedly about how his team could
finally focus on the things they felt were needed for improving the product as opposed to being told what to do by someone who didn't have a clue.
I got the feeling his statement referred to Hinkle.
Tyler did a question and answer session, walking up and down the table, pointing out raised hands, and giving answers. He didn't shy away from anything, it seemed, going into details about the company buyout. One woman asked if he was single.
His eyes found me, and he grinned. "I am single. But I'm saving myself."
That brought on a round of laughter. But I didn't join in because my eyes seemed locked onto Tyler's. I felt a connection. A quickening of my heart. A tingle working down low into my stomach. Heat growing from a pinpoint and radiating outward.
Oh dear.
His gaze broke off, as he answered another question, and the long second, moment, or eternity our eye contact had lasted left me feeling as if someone had stripped me of my blanket in a cold room. I wanted to feel the heat of his gaze on me again. I realized I was biting my lip and staring at him. I probably looked like every other star-struck female in the room.
Don't be silly.
"Concentrate, Emily," I said under my breath. "Concentrate."
The meeting seemed more like a gathering by now, and the excitement in the room felt palpable. Despite the grim numbers Tyler had shown us, I dared to feel hope. Hope that his crazy style of management might actually pay off. Today felt positively electric. What a difference a day made.
Tyler checked the wall clock. "I think everyone has a good idea of what is expected of them, not just by me, but by their team members. For now, I want you all to take a two hour lunch with your team members. Kevin and Jack will hand out vouchers to one of three restaurants. Your first assignment will be to agree on which restaurant to visit."
A murmur of laughter went up from the assembly.
Tyler grinned, his enthusiasm lighting up the room like a lighthouse wherever he turned. "Come back refreshed and ready to go. Today is the day we start moving up."
The group cheered, and broke into a cacophony of conversations.
"This man is fabulous," said a man with an effeminate voice behind me.
"And sexy," purred a woman standing next to him.
It suddenly felt very warm. Thankfully, I was standing near the door and stepped out into the hallway. People left in groups—with their teams, I supposed—and went to enjoy a long lunch. Within a few minutes, the room had emptied out with the exception of Jack, Kevin, and Tyler.
"Good luck, gentlemen," he said, shaking their hands.
Jack gave me a thumbs-up as he and Kevin left for lunch. I looked back and saw Tyler regarding me. Either his eyes looked particularly hungry, or I was just hoping they did, but I felt acutely naked and vulnerable all alone in the hallway with him only feet away.
"Impressions?" he said.
I cleared my head of indecent thoughts and said, "I think it went very well. Hinkle and Jones didn't sound convinced."
He pursed his lips. "It's to be expected. They were leaders in the old order, and now they're part of the crowd again."
"And you think they'll play nice? I think they'll be nothing but trouble, and it's a terrible idea to keep them around."
His eyes met mine. "Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, Miss Glass." His voice and face were so serious, I literally felt a shock run through my heart.
My hand flew to my chest on reflex as I soaked in the meaning of his message. His body language and voice were in lockstep. But where had this serious side of him come from all of a sudden? I wanted to know more about this man. He seemed transparent and forthright about the business, but personally, I knew only what I'd scoured from online searches.
However, if I went down that path, it could be dangerous. I already felt attraction—no, I felt something even stronger even than that simple word could describe. I felt drawn to him, inexorably pulled into his orbit, circling him like a stray rock caught between the cold of the void and the intense heat of the sun. I feared if I lost the distance between us, I would spiral deep into him and burn up.
"You look troubled, Miss Glass." Tyler, inches from me, reached for my shoulder.
I stepped back, nearly stumbling in my haste. He was so close I felt the heat of his aura. It was my imagination, I knew, my body longing to let him touch me. But I could not fall prey to my weakness.
"I'm fine," I managed to say. "I'm glad you believe in second chances. I do too. But sometimes, our best intentions come back to hurt us."
He gave me a troubled look of his own, and peered at me for a moment as if trying to get a read on me. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you believe in second chances."
The hope in his voice caught me off guard, and I felt my eyes widen as I looked at him. How did this man keep me so off balance? Had he read a book about women and decided to test it on me? Because whatever his ploy was, it was working despite my best efforts.
"Join me for lunch?" he said, offering his arm to me.
"It might be viewed as inappropriate," I answered.
He grinned. "I'll be the judge of that, Miss Glass."
Thankful for my long sleeves and his suit jacket protecting my naked skin, I sighed and slipped my arm through his. Even without skin contact, my arm tingled and the sensual burning odor faintly touched my nose. It had to be my imagination. I'd been so long without a man, I had forgotten the simple pleasure of walking arm-in-arm with one. Not to mention the visual pleasure of eyes the color of emeralds and firm biceps. Without even thinking, my other hand squeezed his upper arm.
Oh yes, very firm.
He chuckled, and I nearly tripped over my own feet in embarrassment.
"Don't worry, I'm strong enough to support you if you fall." He winked.
"I'm sure you are." I rolled my eyes. "I suppose you take great pride in bench pressing an obscene amount of weight."
"I try to keep in shape."
I thought he would surely use my statement as a launching pad for a bit of manly boasting. But instead, he remained quiet, letting go of my arm to press the button for the lift.
Joe picked us up out front and we went to a restaurant that looked on the outside as though it should be condemned. Inside, it was a homey Greek restaurant with a happy little man who took our orders and told us we'd chosen wisely by coming to the best Greek restaurant in Atlanta.
I ordered a Greek salad and gyro wrap with chicken breast inside, determined to stick to whatever half-arsed diet I'd been on the past few days. Tyler ordered enough to feed two grown men, and devoured his meal like a starving person.
Considering the way I'd seen him eat so far, I found it amazing he stayed so lean. Then again, it was most likely genetics. Some people had all the luck. Ana came to mind.
"You pick interesting places to eat," I said. "Not quite what I'd expect from someone with your resources."
"You mean because I'm rich?" He wiped gyro sauce off his mouth with a napkin and grinned. "Good food is where you find it, Miss Glass."
I wondered how every time he said my name he managed to make it sound like an indecent proposal and a sign of respect all at the same time. "You don't eat at fancy restaurants?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes it's a necessity. And some of them actually have amazing food."
I finished off my salad, and opened the pita bread on my gyro so I could pick out the chicken breast and vegetables. "I must admit, this is excellent Greek cuisine."
"Why are you eating like that?"
"Like what?" My words were muffled due to the chicken I'd just shoved in my mouth.
"You should eat the whole gyro."
"Unlike some people, I can't expect the extra weight to simply drop off me."
"Then you should work out."
I swallowed and raised an eyebrow for him, Sandra-style. "And what sort of workout regimen would you recommend, Mr. Rock?"
"Vigorous exercise, Miss Glass." His green eyes sharpened, and his lips curled up.
His grin widened. "Calisthenics are always fun. Pushups. Squats. Using your body weight in creative ways."
I leaned forward, determined not to show weakness. I was a she-wolf, and I had teeth too. "Like wrestling?" I said in a sweet voice. "I imagine there are all sorts of creative holds and positions."
His mouth opened slightly, as if he were, for once, at a loss for words. He recovered quickly. Leaned forward until he was only inches from me. "Are you well versed in wrestling, Miss Glass? Are you offering to show me how to do it correctly?"
My legs crossed of their own accord, pressing tight against the heat budding between them, and I was suddenly the speechless one. I leaned back, as if suddenly disinterested, though my body screamed for me to teach this man how to wrestle. Except I knew I would be the student. "I don't think you'd be very good at it," I said in an offhand manner.
A baritone laugh burst from his mouth, drawing the eyes of the other patrons. Tyler didn't care. The man operated in his own universe where he made the rules. And I wanted to be in that universe.
Gravity! Hot sun!
What was I thinking? Toying with this man was like lighting dynamite on a short fuse.
"You are a brave woman, Miss Glass. Unabashed. Straightforward. I think we're going to get along very well." Tyler took a drink of water. "Are you done picking at your poor gyro?"
My sexual frustration melted into professional gratitude at his compliment. How the bloody hell did this man do such a thing? "I'm ready to go when you are."
When we arrived back at the office, Sandra held out a note to Tyler. "Your attorney called, sir." She smiled, and to my surprise, it seemed genuine. "I want to thank you for giving us all a stake, sir. I feel like I can actually contribute something useful."
"You are as worthy as anyone else, Ms. Connors." He showed her an easy smile and nodded. "I'll be in my office if anyone needs me."