Back in her corner office, Evelyn Lane dropped into her chair a little harder than necessary.
Her assistant of three years, Claire Simmons, glanced up from her laptop. "Ms. Lane, what's wrong? Who ticked you off?"
Claire knew her boss well. In public, Evelyn was all composure and authority—exactly what people expected from the thirty-two-year-old CEO of Everstream Technologies. In private, she could be as blunt, sarcastic, and emotionally transparent as anyone. If she liked someone, she was all in. If she hated them, she made it very clear.
The tight expression on Evelyn's face right now? That was anger.
"It's that new guy in engineering," Evelyn said, slipping off her blazer. "Ryan Carter. Just started today. You remember me telling you about the jerk who mouthed off to me at the coffee shop two days ago?"
Claire's jaw dropped. "You're kidding. That's him?"
Evelyn's lips curved into something halfway between a smirk and a scowl. "Oh, I'm very serious. He just walked right into my company. My company."
"Well… I can talk to HR, find an excuse to let him go," Claire offered.
"No," Evelyn said quickly. "If he's here, I'm not wasting the opportunity. We've got a slow month, no major launches. Might as well… have some fun." Her eyes gleamed in a way that made Claire shiver.
"Fun" in Evelyn Lane's vocabulary usually meant a slow, calculated kind of torment that the target never saw coming. Claire almost felt bad for the new hire. Almost.
The engineering department had nineteen people, including their director, Mike Hanlon. Only two were women—Natalie Brooks, a married UI designer, and Christine Chu, a quiet, sharp-eyed backend developer known for solving problems nobody else could.
Mike set Ryan up with a desk and dropped a stack of onboarding docs on it. Thanks to the Advanced Programming skill he'd just merged earlier that morning, the codebase made immediate sense to him.
"Hey, new guy," someone said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
New skill detected: Intermediate Programming. Copy?
Copy. The two intermediate-level skills fused instantly into his advanced one, tightening and sharpening his mental toolkit even further.
Ryan almost laughed out loud. A project manager here had intermediate coding skills? In most companies, that was CTO material. Everstream wasn't playing around.
"Don't bury yourself in that stuff," the guy—Owen Becker, project manager—said. "It's not going anywhere. Let's get lunch."
Ryan checked the clock. Noon already. He'd been so absorbed he hadn't noticed.
Everstream catered its breakfasts and lunches, bringing in a rotating menu of hot meals from local chefs. Today was grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and quinoa salad.
Ryan went with Owen and a few other engineers. Most of them had only basic programming skills, but two had Basic Game Design. He copied those and upgraded to Intermediate Game Design—not because he planned to become a game dev, but because every skill could be leveraged somehow.
They were in the middle of a heated debate about online multiplayer balance when the room went quiet.
Evelyn Lane had just walked in, heels clicking against the polished floor, Claire at her side. She smiled faintly as she greeted people—until her gaze landed on Ryan. Her expression didn't change much, but he caught the almost imperceptible narrowing of her eyes before she looked away.
Ryan, half out of reflex, pulled out his phone. The lock screen was still that candid photo of her from the coffee shop—labeled "Elegant" in his gallery. Comparing the image to the real thing, he almost snorted. The picture didn't come close. The Evelyn in front of him was at least twenty points higher on any scale.
"President Lane hasn't eaten in the cafeteria in months," Owen murmured.
"No kidding," another dev replied.
After a few bites, Owen suddenly stood. "Ms. Lane, why don't you join us?"
Two chairs were freed instantly. Evelyn sat down beside Claire, directly across from Ryan.
"This is the new hire from engineering, right?" she said lightly. "Ryan Carter?"
Owen nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
Evelyn extended her hand toward Ryan. "Give me your phone. I'll add you to my contacts—so if there's anything you need, you can reach me."
Ryan, not thinking, handed it over.
The second he saw her thumb press the power button, his stomach dropped.
Shit.
The lock screen. That photo. The one labeled "Elegant."