Page 27 of Starrily
Simon would probably be toying with the blinds on her window right now, making a smart-ass remark about how she liked to keep her office dark, just like her soul.
“Oh, Simon, you’re so funny.” Callie tried to imitate Jessica’s peppy voice, then swiveled in her seat and switched to a lower tone. “Finally, someone recognizes my talent.”
The door opened. Callie yelped.
“Do you have a pencil?” Watzmann said. It didn’t look like he’d heard her pathetic reenactment, and grabbed a pencil when she pointed it out.
“You’re going crazy,” she said to herself once he left.
But was she going crazy from having to endure Simon’s presence for the past few weeks, or from lack of it now?
No. She didn’t want Simon Montague snooping around her office, commenting on its disarray (it was perfectly organized chaos; if she knew where to find something, that was an efficient system).
But, thinking objectively, she might be in a bit of a pickle if Simon didn’t come back. What if Jessica also lost interest? Callie gazed at the article, and a not-so-small part of her got proud. She was in a science magazine. Sure, it wasn’t to celebrate some outstanding achievement of hers, but that could still come one day.
Or maybe it won’t because you yelled at the CEO of Aries Tech, and now no one will want to work with you.
Callie banged her head on the desk. She had to fix this. Not only because of her career, and definitely not because she missed having Simon murmuring some pop song off-key in the background while she was trying to focus.
Because it was the right thing to do.
She grabbed her phone, then remembered she didn’t even have his number. She could try social media or find a contact for his company. But the first seemed too intrusive, and the thought of calling a stranger for business reasons filled her with anxiety. Speaking in person would be easier.
Her lunch breakwascoming up.
She eyed her bag, then with the decision swiftly made, grabbed it and ran out of the office.
Aries Tech was a complex of sprawling buildings, with a driveway that curved past a massive, polished chrome sign boasting the company’s name. Callie lurked around like one of Simon’s creepy stalkers, gathering courage, until she took a deep breath and forced herself to enter. What was the worst that could happen—they’d throw her out?
Actually, she could think of many worse things.
Butchering her introduction to the receptionist.
Being told to go to an office, and getting lost, and someone witnessing that.
Puking on someone, maybe.
Surprisingly, none of it happened. Once she told the receptionist her name, the lady recognized it and directed her to Simon’s office. Callie didn’t get lost, but once she reached it, the secretary’s desk was empty. Callie hesitated for a few moments, then knocked on the door and opened it. He had it coming.
Only Simon wasn’t there.
Steps echoed down the hallway.Don’t let them catch you snooping,her brain warned her and concluded that meant going inside the office—so she did and shut the door behind her.
Simon’s office was at least three times bigger than hers. Make it four—that blue sofa alone was larger than her working desk. It was light and airy and looked very much like a CEO’s office.
Several pictures hung on the wall opposite his spotless glass working desk, all carefully chosen to give a professional, but approachable impression. A younger Simon in his graduation clothes, posing next to an older man with similar facial features. Simon in front of a small building with an older logo of the company above the entrance. Simon shaking hands with a serious-looking businessman.
Callie leaned in until her nose almost touched the photos. There was something off about Simon, but it was hard to grasp what. He didn’t look different physically; younger, sure, especially in the graduation photo, but it was still his face. But there was a touch more seriousness and a different energy to him, if such a thing could be deduced from a picture.
Energy? Really?What was next, busting out some crystal and seeing if there was bad juju in the room?
The door flew open, and Callie jumped back, nearly losing her balance.
“Calliope.” Simon stood at the entrance, one hand still on the doorknob. “I didn’t—uh—I heard you were here.”
He was wearing a simple shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dress pants; the first time she’d seen him wear something more business-like. She stared at his finely muscled forearms for two seconds—about two seconds too long—then shook herself to her senses. “Sorry I’m interrupting.”
“Oh, no.” He closed the door behind him. “Just a board meeting. Everett can handle it.” He crossed over to his desk and stacked some papers, but kept covertly glancing in her direction.
