Page 28 of Seducing Bran
Bran tapped his finger on his biceps. He didn’t trust James as far as he could throw him, but he maintained a neutral expression. “You think so?”
James’s mouth parted as though he’d expected a different response. “I know so.”
“I’ll take your opinion into consideration. But just so we’re clear, you’ll continue to work with Ireland.”
“But—”
“Her résumé impressed your boss. Before you condemn her, you might consider seeing what she can do.”
James looked away. “That’s the problem,” he muttered.
A conciliatory smile spread across James’s face. “I’ll be back in the morning”—he glanced at Ireland—“to fix things.”
Bran watched him walk out. He highly doubted it would be James who solved the problem. If Bran were a betting man, he’d guess Jameswasthe problem.
Bran checked the time. Almost eleven. He glanced in Ireland’s direction. Her hair had been pulled up into a bun, the red, wavy locks falling around her smooth neck and across her forehead. She was staring at the computer, typing faster than seemed humanly possible.
He closed his eyes and took a strained breath. The combination of pretty, smart, and nerdy was apparently a potent combination for him, and it was really pissing him off.
He would put in another hour of paperwork. Then he’d insist Ireland head home. Bran still had work to do, but Ireland had a full-time job awaiting her in the morning. He wouldn’t take advantage by draining her while she was doing him and his brothers a favor. Besides, being alone with her late at night was slowly killing him.
The Tech Banquetcode was driving Ireland nuts. There were columns that took up hundreds of unnecessary pages. She could have written the same program, with all the bells and whistles, in half the space. Most of her effort tonight had been spent trying to figure out what the extra code was meant to do. Aside from being inefficient, which was just annoying.
Before James had left, she’d attempted to bring up the inefficiency. And he’d berated her.
“I’m beginning to question your qualifications,” he’d said. “Anyone with half a brain would understand the reason for the processes I put in place.” And then he tried to distract her with something else in the program.
Oh, hell no.
Ireland needed more self-confidence when it came to her relationships with men, but not with her programming skills.
She was so over working with assholes like James. Thank God Club Tahoe was a temporary gig. Working with the Tech Banquet employee was giving her flashbacks to her old job. Not to mention, being around Bran was just awkward.
Every time she looked at Bran, her mind went straight to him kissing her. She was more than a little flustered where he was concerned, and trying to keep things professional.
In the end, Ireland cleaned up the code without completely rewriting it, and hoped the changes would fix the glitches. But she wasn’t even close to finished when she realized the time. If she were lucky, she’d be able to get in a few hours of sleep.
“You still here?”
Ireland’s heart thumped heavily at the sound of Bran’s voice. She looked up into his face, and her own grew warm.
Why did her body have to react to him? She wasn’t interested in him after the way he’d treated her on the boat. Couldn’t her brain and body work in unison for once? “I’m wrapping up right now.”
He tucked a large hand in the front pocket of his jeans, looking as fresh as if he’d just woken. Meanwhile, she’d bet anything that her hair was a rat’s nest and dark circles marred her eyes. “How did things go?” he asked. “You solve the problem?”
Ireland glanced at the computer screen, giving herself a moment to respond. She hated prickly situations, and this was a prickly situation. Something Ireland often found herself in, given her line of work and the colleagues she was often pitted against.
“It’s hard to say.” She backed up her work and closed things down for the night. “James wrote the program, and I’m honestly not sure why he hasn’t been able to resolve the problem.”
“You and me both.”
“He’s…” Ireland hesitated. In her last position, she’d been scorned for voicing criticism of male coworkers’ job performance.
“He’s what?” Bran asked.
She never could skirt around issues and smooth ruffled feathers. So she didn’t try now. “There’s unnecessary code in the program.” And, she suspected, a hell of a lot more going on. Until she figured out exactly what, she didn’t want to throw accusations.
Bran nodded. “Do you think that’s causing the problem?”
