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Authors: Dahlia DeWinters
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inbox. Francis had said nothing about either her hiding out in the office all day or her clothing, but she could feel his eyes on her every time she crossed the room.
“Are we going?” She went to retrieve her coat. As she shrugged into it, she was somewhat annoyed to note that he was still behind his desk, head bent over his iPhone. “Francis? What time are the reservations?”
“There are no reservations,” he said. “I never said we were going out for dinner.” He got up and helped her out of her coat. “I would never subject you to something that I know would make you uncomfortable, Violet.” He flashed her grin as he hung up her coat. “You, in a restaurant on Valentine’s Day? Never.”
“So…we’re not having dinner?”
“Of course we’re having dinner.” He took her arm and guided her out of the office. “Take a walk with me.”
****
Rogers’ hand shook as he typed the master password. When this whole thing began, he thought he would throw a program on the system and slow them down enough to miss the deadline. Everything changed when the Edu-Gaming competition chopped two weeks off the end of the preparation period and the subsequent phone call from Avarix. His fingers stumbled and he had to re-enter the password.
He’d never passed on the word that they were to upload the software to the server. All he had to do is upload a dummy file and reactivate the program to delete it. Simple and easy and NorthStar would be done. He moved the mouse to the MathMage folder on Pete’s computer. Three clicks of the mouse later, Pete’s software files, and his portion of the program that he was supposed to de-glitch were unreadable. He moved to Alyssa’s computer and did the same.
When he was done, he shut down his computer and went downstairs. Lingering and thinking about what he’d done to his friend and the company in general was something that he didn’t want to think about. Instead, he focused on his new job and the huge bonus that awaited him.
****
The small storage had been a catchall for empty computer boxes, recycling, and the miscellaneous items that people wanted to get out of their offices “just for a minute.” As a result, it had metamorphosed into a space crammed with so much stuff that no one dared to try to clean it out and scuttled by it as if it were a mad relative locked in a back room. But someone had taken care of that.
The random junk was gone and the tiny room held a small round table draped with a dark red tablecloth, two chairs, and two covered plates. Francis lit the two candles that sat in the middle of the table and turned off the overhead light, turning the room into a romantic setting for two.
She stood in the doorway and tried to take it all in. “My goodness, Francis. Did you do this?” Realization hit her. That’s why he was in and out of their office all day while she was trapped, hiding out.
He guided her to one of the chairs. “Not by myself.” He poured her a glass of wine, the burgundy liquid swirling into the glass, glowing in the soft candlelight. “I had some help.” He sat.
“It’s nice,” she said. That was the understatement of the year. The small changes turned the room into something spectacular.
Francis gestured at her covered plate and then poured himself a glass of wine. “Go ahead and eat before it gets cold.”
Violet reached for the linen napkin, shook it out, and placed it in her lap, still in awe that Francis would go through this many changes for her. When she lifted the cover from her plate, she gasped and sat back in her seat.
“You don’t like it?” His voice sounded anxious. “I thought—”
“It’s the same dinner I had with you at the convention.” She raised her eyes to his, noting his watchful expression.
“I remembered how much you enjoyed it.” He took the metal cover from her numb fingers and set it aside. “Eat. I doubt you’ve had a decent meal in the past week, judging by what
“Are we going?” She went to retrieve her coat. As she shrugged into it, she was somewhat annoyed to note that he was still behind his desk, head bent over his iPhone. “Francis? What time are the reservations?”
“There are no reservations,” he said. “I never said we were going out for dinner.” He got up and helped her out of her coat. “I would never subject you to something that I know would make you uncomfortable, Violet.” He flashed her grin as he hung up her coat. “You, in a restaurant on Valentine’s Day? Never.”
“So…we’re not having dinner?”
“Of course we’re having dinner.” He took her arm and guided her out of the office. “Take a walk with me.”
****
Rogers’ hand shook as he typed the master password. When this whole thing began, he thought he would throw a program on the system and slow them down enough to miss the deadline. Everything changed when the Edu-Gaming competition chopped two weeks off the end of the preparation period and the subsequent phone call from Avarix. His fingers stumbled and he had to re-enter the password.
He’d never passed on the word that they were to upload the software to the server. All he had to do is upload a dummy file and reactivate the program to delete it. Simple and easy and NorthStar would be done. He moved the mouse to the MathMage folder on Pete’s computer. Three clicks of the mouse later, Pete’s software files, and his portion of the program that he was supposed to de-glitch were unreadable. He moved to Alyssa’s computer and did the same.
When he was done, he shut down his computer and went downstairs. Lingering and thinking about what he’d done to his friend and the company in general was something that he didn’t want to think about. Instead, he focused on his new job and the huge bonus that awaited him.
****
The small storage had been a catchall for empty computer boxes, recycling, and the miscellaneous items that people wanted to get out of their offices “just for a minute.” As a result, it had metamorphosed into a space crammed with so much stuff that no one dared to try to clean it out and scuttled by it as if it were a mad relative locked in a back room. But someone had taken care of that.
The random junk was gone and the tiny room held a small round table draped with a dark red tablecloth, two chairs, and two covered plates. Francis lit the two candles that sat in the middle of the table and turned off the overhead light, turning the room into a romantic setting for two.
She stood in the doorway and tried to take it all in. “My goodness, Francis. Did you do this?” Realization hit her. That’s why he was in and out of their office all day while she was trapped, hiding out.
He guided her to one of the chairs. “Not by myself.” He poured her a glass of wine, the burgundy liquid swirling into the glass, glowing in the soft candlelight. “I had some help.” He sat.
“It’s nice,” she said. That was the understatement of the year. The small changes turned the room into something spectacular.
Francis gestured at her covered plate and then poured himself a glass of wine. “Go ahead and eat before it gets cold.”
Violet reached for the linen napkin, shook it out, and placed it in her lap, still in awe that Francis would go through this many changes for her. When she lifted the cover from her plate, she gasped and sat back in her seat.
“You don’t like it?” His voice sounded anxious. “I thought—”
“It’s the same dinner I had with you at the convention.” She raised her eyes to his, noting his watchful expression.
“I remembered how much you enjoyed it.” He took the metal cover from her numb fingers and set it aside. “Eat. I doubt you’ve had a decent meal in the past week, judging by what
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