“Chloe!” calls out a familiar man’s voice.

Carrie looks relieved. Saved by her boss’s boyfriend. Nick Grafton walks down the hall, confident in that way older men have when they’ve been successful in the business world long enough to know they’ve earned it. His suit is tailored and he’s wearing cufflinks like the ones I inherited from my grandfather. Tall like me, but with more of a marathoner’s build, Nick has a touch of silver in his hair and that casual assumption that when he speaks, he’s in charge.

I like him. Unlike the men who work at O, he’s not jockeying for the role of alpha male. Most of the guys here have a thing about their looks — Zeke especially. Henry’s the unofficial pack leader here, and he’s welcome to that role. I wouldn’t want to deal with all the petty shit people dish out. Work is a place where I earn a paycheck and have some fun.

And, lately, find reasons to run into Carrie.

“Ryan,” Nick says, giving me an obligatory handshake where we mutually crush each other’s knuckles as testosterone takes over. “How’s it going?”

“You know. The uniforms get smaller and the tips get bigger,” I reply with a smile.

Chloe lets out a soft laugh at Nick’s surprised response, his bewilderment rippling through the confident expression he normally has. Then he laughs as he wraps a possessive arm around her shoulders and plants a kiss on her cheek.

“Half an hour ago, I was in a design meeting for a chain of funeral homes. Or ‘transition centers,’ as they’re calling themselves. O is a refreshing change of pace,” Nick observes.

“From coffins to sex toy hotlines,” Chloe muses, smiling up at him with that flawless grin. “You’re quite the Renaissance Man.”

My throat tightens. I want someone to look at me like that.

Carrie catches my eye.

I want Carrie to look at me like that.

Instead, she’s giving me the stink eye.

“I thought I was the Focus Man,” Nick teases Chloe as Carrie motions for me to come closer to her.

“Do I really look okay?” Carrie whisper-hisses, her nervousness calming me. I become the comforter, the confident one, the leader. “I need a handler, Ryan. Did I really go on about monkeys eating bugs as a form of foreplay?”

I choke on my coffee. “I wouldn’t put it that way, but...”

“I’m not fit for public interactions,” Carrie hisses. “This is all Jamey’s fault!”

I’m not even going to try to understand how Jamey made her talk about primates eating hair bugs. Anything that makes him the bad guy works for me, though.

I reach for her shoulder and press gently, as if pinning her in place so she doesn’t shoot off to the moon, fueled by adrenaline. “You’re fine. You’ll be great in this meeting.”

“There’s Amanda Warrick!” Carrie gasps, reaching up to touch her hair. “I look okay?”

“You look fabulous. Calm down.”

“I am calm!” she hisses just as Amanda appears. Amanda Warrick is the assistant director for marketing for our parent company, Anterdec. She’s engaged to the CEO, Andrew McCormick, and all the guys here at O know a dirty little secret about her.

Last year, Amanda came to O with a very enthusiastic older woman who sipped shots out of Henry’s navel like it was a baby bottle. They were mystery shoppers — the mystery shoppers who wrote up the report that set Chloe’s hair on fire.

Zeke remembered Amanda but no one believed him. Then Andrew McCormick’s brother got married and when Declan McCormick escaped from his own wedding with his bride, the crazy older blonde lady was all over the news. We happened to be in the employee lounge when some cable news channel interviewed her going on about how the president stole her daughter from the wedding.

Henry told us never to say a word to anyone. Not sure why, but when Henry tells us to do something, we do it.

Every time I see Amanda, though, I can’t help but smirk. Like right now, as I shake her hand and say, “Hello.” She has beautiful auburn hair, a shade redder than Henry’s, and big brown eyes that are perfectly round.

Eyes that narrow as I smile at her. It’s like she can read what I’m thinking.

Nick, Chloe, Carrie, Amanda, and I all exchange handshakes and pleasantries, the kind of corporate shit I hate. Chloe insisted Zeke and I sit in on this meeting. Normally, Henry would handle it, but he has some class he can’t get out of at Harvard, where he’s working on his master’s degree in public health.

Overachiever.

Once we’re settled in at the big conference table, I realize this meeting is bigger than I thought. Diane from accounting has joined us, and some guy I don’t recognize is sitting next to Chloe. Nick’s on her other side. I angle for a spot next to Carrie, but end up sandwiched between Zeke and Diane. There are two other men in the room, dressed in t-shirts and jeans. I look down at my denim shirt and frown.

I didn’t have to dress up after all.

The two men are arguing about something on a laptop. I didn’t catch their names so I think of them as Geek and Geeker.

“But it looks all wrong,” says Geek. “We have to make it look exactly like the O Spa’s branding.”

Geeker snatches the mouse and hisses to his partner, “But look, it does everything we need. Emails, text messaging, and each rep can customize their own messages. It’s already all paid for.”

Now I’m getting interested. “That’s perfect. All you have to do is customize the branding to make it look like the O Spa, and all the hard work is already done for you.”

Geek and Geeker stare back at me like I’ve just farted in an elevator.

“What is your job, exactly?” Geek asks with a sneer, eyes on my tatted arms.

Chloe stands. “Thank you, everyone, for coming to this very interesting meeting.” She clears her throat gently, suggestively, and everyone grins. Geek turns away from me.

“Instead of making everyone go through introductions, allow me. I’m Chloe Browne. This is Amanda Warrick, assistant marketing director from Anterdec, our parent company. Nick Grafton, branding director from Anterdec. Ryan Donovan and Zeke Kelsroy are master staff members here at O, and will be manning the phones as beta testers.”

“Nothing beta about me,” Zeke whispers under his breath.

“Diane Delman from O’s accounting team is with us, as is Jack Simonds from our New York office. Assuming all goes well, New York will be the phone line’s next target market. Carrie Shelton is my assistant designer here at O, and has managed the details of development and content for the phone line.” Chloe pauses, the silence ticking, taking on meaning.