“Don’t be a dick. She works here, for Christ’s sake.”
“Seriously? You were just staring at her. I lose you mid-conversation every time she walks by. You know what it reminds me of? When my little brother was two or three, we got a dog—a husky with two different-color eyes. Thing was beautiful. But anyway, Jared was potty training at the time, and he was obsessed with the dog. Whenever he’d stand at the toilet, I’d hear tinkle tinkle tinkle. Then the dog would pass by, and the sound of the urine hitting the water would stop until the dog cleared the doorway. Then it would start up again—tinkle tinkle tinkle. Every damn time. He’d piss all over the floor because he was so distracted.”
Will picked up one of his French fries and waved it at the hall. “She’s your husky. Guess I should be glad we can’t see her from the men’s room, or I’d have piss on my shoes from standing next to you at the urinal.”
My face wrinkled. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“All I did was say what you were thinking.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yeah? So you wouldn’t mind if I asked Evie out?”
The muscle in my jaw spasmed. “I wouldn’t mind. But we do have a corporate policy against it.”
Will grinned. “Oh yeah? Hang on a second.” Joan and Evie had finished their conversation and started to walk away. Will cupped both sides of his mouth and yelled. “Hey, Joan!”
The head of HR looked into my office, and Will waved her inside.
She cracked the door open. “Do you need something?”
Will nodded. “Can you refresh my memory, please? What’s our policy on interoffice dating?”
“It’s against the rules to date a subordinate.”
“And why do we have that rule again?”
“To avoid putting an employee in an uncomfortable place. Someone might feel obligated to say yes for fear of consequences if they don’t. And on the flip side, when an employee dates their boss, how does it look when that employee is promoted?”
“So it’s not a companywide rule then, right? If someone works in a different department, two employees can get together?”
Joan shrugged. “I don’t see why not. John Upton’s wife, Allison, used to work in accounting. He’s a trader, and she did accounts payable, so there wasn’t any conflict of interest. A lot of couples meet at work, actually.”
Will leaned back in his chair, locking his hands together behind his head in a smug posture. “Thank you, Joan.”
“Sure. Anything else?”
He shook his head. “Nope. You’ve been very helpful.”
Will’s gloating smile widened as she closed the door. “So, as I was saying… You don’t mind if I ask her out? We have that charity fundraiser this Friday night, and I haven’t asked anyone yet.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled. “Just stop talking and finish eating. I have shit to do.”
? ? ?
The following Friday afternoon, I’d forgotten all about Will trying to rattle me. I’d convinced myself he was screwing around about asking Evie out—that is, until she knocked on my office door.
“Hey. Do you have a minute?” she asked.
“Sure. Market just closed.”
She smiled. “I know. I was waiting.”
“What’s up?”
“So I met with a bunch more employees this week. And two things that seem to be a common theme are a lack of trust and inaccessibility to senior management.”