Page 67 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

I search her eyes for that spark of connection. “Excellent.”

After an uncomfortable silence where I think I need to say something, she updates me on the Instagram behind-the-scenes lab journal. It’s tedious, and I’m barely listening.

Is Sasha playacting? Is she just that confident her cover isn’t blown?

A woman comes by and sets down our soups.

“People love a story,” Sasha continues, settling her napkin into her lap. “They love a little drama. They love to pull for the underdog, and this lets them in on that. We’ve identified a few junior chemists who already run things for you who could log your daily progress—nothing proprietary, of course. We’d get an image of the day—papers and beakers or whatever. Communications could tweak the write-ups to get them into layman’s terms.”

I break off a bit of bread. Steam rises up. I note the flecks of rosemary. I try it. When I look back up, she’s watching me intently.

“Yeah?” she says.

It takes me a moment to understand that she’s talking about the bread. I give her a nod. A quick smile. It’s just food.

“Right?” She starts in on the soup. “So this Instagram story, maybe we create a header or a name.”

This is me,I want to say.You can be real.I clear my throat, preparing to change the subject, but she keeps on.

I give up and try the soup. “I like that it’s about the process and the product,” I say. “That’s what people should focus on.”

“Exactly.” She smiles. “But I guess that’s not why you called me here, is it?”

“I think you know why I called you here,” I say.

She cocks her head, spoon poised over the fragrant soup. Outside the window, the world rushes on. “To brainstorm…” she says, conspiratorially.

“The calls,” I say. “Iknow,Sasha.”

“Are they…still working out?”

“You know they’re working out.”

She studies my face. All innocence. “Do I?”

“Drop the act. They’re amazing, and you know it, because you’re the one making them. They’re my favorite part of the day. Let’s talk about the calls.”

She studies my eyes, as though searching for something. Then she smiles, and in that moment, she looks beautiful. “You’re right. I think they’re amazing, too.”

“So come out to dinner. You know you want to.”

Her eyes widen a fraction.

“I get it, I’m your boss,” I say. “If you don’t want things with me to move that way, then I’m fine to drop it here and now. But if your constant refusal to have dinner or to let me help you is because you think there might be some trouble at the company…look, I’ll rewrite the corporate rules right now.”

She studies my face.

“One dinner. See how it goes.”

She stares at me strangely. Say something,I think.

“It is tempting.”

“So…” I say.

After an awkward silence, she says, “I knew you would…figure it out.” She tilts her head. “But just out of curiosity, how did you?”

“You corresponded with me as Hello Morning from inside the Vossameer building.”

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