Even Odds (14 page)

“Did you tell Will you already know him?” Matthew finished his chips and moved onto his sandwich. “Like, in the biblical sense?” The corners of his lips kept twitching into a smile that he tried to hide.

“Would you stop it?” Isabel hissed.

Matthew's smile faded. “I thought you'd be ready to laugh about this by now. You've had weeks to get used to the idea. Are you really still this upset?”

“Of course I am. I can't have people thinking—” She stopped talking, not even wanting to name what she didn't want people to know or assume about her. If her coworkers saw her as a sexual being, could they still respect her as a professional, or would she become a punch line again like at Pixel Dream?

“It's okay, Isabel. I'm not going to tell anyone.” Matthew looked a little hurt, probably thinking she was worried he would gossip about her. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It's not you I'm worried about.” Isabel glanced over at Caleb. What was to stop him from bragging about his conquest? He hadn't seemed like that kind of guy at DiceCon, but he also hadn't seemed like the kind of guy to lie about being her future coworker. Maybe she knew even less about him than she'd thought. “I'm just going to proceed as if we're strangers, which we practically are.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Matthew didn't make eye contact as he said the last line, looking instead at his food. After a minute, Isabel could see the smile return to the corner of his lips.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“I'm trying not to, but it
is
pretty funny, if you think about it.” He grinned openly. “I mean, really, what are the odds?”

Isabel sighed. “Not small enough, apparently.” She glanced off to her side, where Caleb was deep in conversation with Phil, one of the animators. “Not small enough.”

Caleb watched Isabel eat,
her head held high and her posture rigid as she talked to Matthew. So she'd decided to be a complete stranger to him, at least in public. Interesting.

“I wouldn't bark up that tree if I were you,” said Phil, the animator sitting to Caleb's right, his voice low enough not to carry.

“Hmm?” Caleb turned to Phil. “What do you mean?”

“Isabel's the best at what she does, but she's not the dating type.” Phil shoveled some potato salad into his mouth. “She might be gay. Maybe asexual. I don't know. She's never brought a date to any company events. It's none of my business, but if you're looking to make a move on her, I wouldn't bother.”

“Ah. Thanks for the advice.” Caleb returned to his sandwich. None of this was new information; Isabel had told him she didn't date much. Still, it was difficult to reconcile this serious, professional woman with the light-hearted Isabel he'd met at DiceCon. Best to change the subject. “So tell me about these company events. How's PI Games to work for?”

The rest of lunch passed smoothly. Isabel left before him, having eaten her food in what must have been record time. When Caleb finished, he grabbed his tablet and made his way to the conference room, thanks to Phil's directions.

Isabel was reviewing something on her iPad when Caleb entered. The conference room was large enough for full-staff meetings, but it was only set up for a small group at the moment, two tables pushed together where five or six people could comfortably gather. Isabel, sitting alone at one table, looked more imposing than she had at DiceCon. She wore her hair pulled back in a twist, which made her appear somewhat severe, and her posture was rigid and uptight rather than relaxed and playful like he'd seen her. Her clothing was androgynous—khaki pants and an oversized polo shirt—the outfit of someone who didn't want her body noticed. It was hard to believe she was the same person as the playful, flirtatious woman with whom he'd had mind-blowing sex. She looked up when the door closed behind Caleb, the expression on her face neutral and bland. “Come show me what you've done.” She gestured to a seat on the opposite side of the table. It would have been impossible to look over his work with an ocean of table space between them, so Caleb sat down on a seat near her instead, noting how she inched fractionally farther away from him as he did so.

He should probably clear the air immediately. “Listen, I need to explain.” Caleb rested his arm on his sketch pad and turned to face Isabel, who was still watching him with the same calm expression.

“Is there something wrong with your design portfolio that you can't just show it to me?” Isabel reached for the tablet, but Caleb picked it up and held it away from her.

“Not about the portfolio. About DiceCon.”

A flicker of emotion passed over Isabel's face, then the mask descended again. “I don't discuss personal matters at work.”

Really? She was just going to stonewall him? “I think we should clear the air, though, if we're going to work together.”

Isabel's blank stare faded into a pinched expression. “The time to clear the air would have been any time in the past month when you did not say anything at all to me. I said I don't want to talk about personal matters at work. Can we please just forget it ever happened?”

That would be easy, if Caleb thought it was remotely possible. In her presence again, the light scent of her all around him, he knew there was no way he could forget their time together, their easy chemistry, not to mention the incredible sex. Maybe she could pretend they'd never happened, but he couldn't. “I can't forget that, Isabel. I don't want to forget it.”

“It didn't mean anything.” Isabel turned her head to look away from him, her jaw set. “We both agreed it didn't mean anything, so it shouldn't be difficult to just put it behind us.”

“Well, maybe I want it to mean something.” The words were out of Caleb's mouth before he realized he was going to say anything, and Isabel's whole body stiffened.

She turned back to face him, one hand going up to rub at her ear as she looked first at him, then down at the table. When she spoke, her voice was softer, but still guarded. “Caleb, you have to know that the Isabel you met at DiceCon doesn't really exist. I was somebody else that weekend. I'm not someone who flirts or who fools around with strangers in rooms that don't lock. So stop it. Because you're just going to end up disappointed.” She bit her bottom lip, then released it, the flesh redder where her teeth had been.

Caleb wanted to take that lip between his teeth and bite and kiss, making her whole mouth swollen and red and slick. Whatever line she was spinning about being someone else, it might be what she thought, but it wasn't true. “That's bullshit.”

Isabel looked up from the table, eyes flashing dark. “Excuse me?”

“I may not know you that well, but I know you weren't making all that up. Maybe you aren't like that here, but that's still part of you. It wasn't a lie.” Caleb leaned forward. “Don't bullshit me.”

“You don't get to come into my work and tell me you know me better than I know myself.” Isabel's brows drew together. “I told you I didn't want to talk about this here, and the fact that you insist on talking about it means you don't respect my wishes, so I couldn't care less what you think, is that clear?”

Caleb felt her words like a slap, and shame rose thick in his throat. She was right. She'd said she didn't want to talk about this, and he'd pushed her because he thought he knew what was best. He'd be pissed if someone did that to him, pushing his boundaries when he'd already made them clear. He softened his grip on the arm of the chair. “You're right. I'm sorry.”

Isabel blinked and cocked her head to the side. “That's it? No fight?”

“No, you're right. You asked me not to talk about it here, and I was wrong to push.” The words felt uncomfortable, but no more uncomfortable than feeling like an asshole. “I really would like to clear the air, though. Can I buy you coffee after work?”

Isabel's expression remained guarded. “Just coffee?”

“Just coffee.” Caleb let himself feel a thread of hope. If he came out of this with her not considering him a total douche bag, he'd count that a win.

“Just coffee.” Isabel nodded. “All right.”

Caleb felt suddenly lighter. “So . . . you wanted to look at my portfolio.” He woke up the tablet and navigated to his folder of digital work.

Isabel took the device and started thumbing through the designs. He felt the same mix of excitement and anxiety as when anyone looked at his art; no matter what he accomplished professionally, he never wanted to hear someone disparage his work. Isabel studied each piece before moving on, a crease between her eyebrows, absorbed in her task. She stopped on one model near the end, a digital painting of a lithe figure of indeterminate gender in a battle stance, sword drawn. Isabel tapped the edge of the drawing with one short fingernail. “I really love your lines.”

“Thanks.” Caleb felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, tension he hadn't realized he was holding.

Isabel continued to navigate through the images, and when she reached the landscapes, she began nodding. She nodded through a dozen slides before finally sighing and sitting back. “Your work is good. I mean, it's really good. It's beautiful. Can you manage a team as well as you can create art?”

“I think so. I managed the creative team for my last job. My best friend, Henry, and I ran our own game design company, Foggy Goggles. The one I mentioned to you went under.”

Caleb tried to keep his tone light, but he felt that wave of hot shame again, the sensation that failure was lurking around every corner. He'd sworn not to let this become self-fulfilling prophecy, so he said what he knew was true, reminding himself he was good at his job. “But not because of my team management.”

Isabel's expression said she wanted to inquire further, but she didn't. “Okay.” She relaxed a little, and even though she didn't smile, she at least wasn't as guarded as before. He'd count that as progress. “Let's talk about
Frost Prince.
”

———

For the tenth or
so time that afternoon, Isabel found herself staring at her computer screen without really seeing it. She hadn't wanted to meet with Caleb in the first place, but damn Will's good ideas, the meeting had actually been productive. Staying mad at Caleb would be much easier if he was completely incompetent, but the ass was unfortunately good at what he did and would be a perfect partner for
Frost Prince
. His ideas for the game visuals coincided perfectly with her thoughts on gameplay, and despite her best efforts, by the end of their meeting she was looking forward to getting started. She felt a month of anger dissolving, leaving her unsteady without that constant background emotion.

She tried to focus on the bonus level she'd been working on before her encounter with Caleb had upended her world, but she couldn't concentrate. Although she'd expected the adrenaline rush to persist, she no longer felt the heart-pounding fight-or-flight response that had accompanied her first view of Caleb in the break room. Her hands rested steadily on the keyboard, no trembling. After an hour talking with Caleb, her anxiety about working with him had faded away so gently she didn't even notice its absence until she returned to her cubicle. Instead, she was distracted by other memories; memories of his lips against her neck and his hand between her legs; memories that had kept her from getting much meaningful work done. Memories distracting her from the fact that he fooled around with her without telling her he was going to be her coworker, which pretty much brought the odds to fifty to one against him in the boyfriend material department.

Wait. Who'd said anything about boyfriend material? That was crazy talk. She sighed and looked at the clock. It was almost worth giving up on work altogether, since she only had less than an hour left in her day, but that would be admitting defeat. Her personal life was not allowed to intrude on her work. Okay, so it already had, but it was not allowed to intrude on her work any
more.
Resolute, Isabel pulled her headphones on and fired up her playlist of classical music, then settled back into the
Squish
bonus level on which she would make
some
progress before leaving, dammit.

Deep into the level walk-through, she almost fell off her chair when a hand landed on her shoulder. Flailing in surprise, she knocked the headphones half off her head, then pulled them the rest of the way off and turned around, heart thumping against her ribs from the shock. Caleb was standing behind her in the cubicle entrance, a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. It's after five.”

Isabel looked at the clock, and yeah, it was almost quarter past. “Sorry. I get pretty caught up in my work sometimes.” That's right; she'd agreed to get coffee with him and hear his side of the story, which had all likelihood of turning into a pile of bullshit and ruining the good mood she'd managed to reestablish. She started shutting down her workstation and packing up. “There's a coffee shop about a mile from here where we sometimes go. The Brass Buckle. That okay with you?”

“Sure, anything's fine.” Caleb stepped out of the cubicle entrance to let her pass. “Do you mind driving? I don't know the way.”

“I don't mind.” Good, he wasn't one of those “I must always drive because I'm the man” kind of guys. That shifted the odds slightly, but not enough to make any significant difference.

“This place clears out pretty quickly at five, I noticed,” Caleb observed as they made it to the lobby, which was deserted.

Isabel considered his remark as she stepped out from the air-conditioning into the late-afternoon sun, a transition that always made her wince. “People stay late when they're under a deadline, but we're a ways out from product release, so yeah, I guess most people leave on time.”

“Is it always so hot down here?” Caleb shifted his brown satchel higher on his shoulder and wiped his brow. “I swear, I'm already sweating.”

“This is nothing. Wait for August.” Isabel led him to her Toyota. “This is my car.” She blasted the air conditioner as soon as they got in the car, then folded up the sunshade and tossed it in the backseat.

“That thing really make a difference?” Caleb asked.

“The sunshade? Essential. You'd better get one right away or everyone will know you're a northerner.” Isabel backed out of the spot and turned onto the main road.

“My car's not going to get locked in or something, is it?” Caleb asked, turning back to look at the entrance to the lot as they drove out.

“No, there's no gate. Don't worry.” Isabel turned down the side street that would lead them to the Brass Buckle. In the enclosed space of her car, Caleb felt much closer, and his scent was triggering all kinds of memories that had no business interrupting her driving. She didn't know how she was going to work with him without remembering the way his beard felt brushing her inner thigh as he sucked on her clit. Just thinking about it, she felt warmth rush to her face . . . and much lower. She checked to make sure the air conditioner was on as high as it would go and reminded herself that he slept with her without telling her he was going to be her coworker, and then let the lie go on for four additional weeks. That alleviated some of her arousal.