Arrogant Boss

I should have done better research. How had I never realized that Tech José was a subsidiary branch of Hunt Industries? There was no way I would have come along today if I had known. After yesterday… my cheeks flushed with humiliation. He had known. He had known right away, as soon as I had said my name.

I shut out the small part of me that was thrilled at seeing Julian in the doorway. It couldn’t be helped-he was an intensely attractive man, objectively speaking, and I wasn’t blind.

He stepped into the room. “I’m Julian Hunt. You must be Turner Giordano?”

“I am, yes.”

Julian moved around the table and extended a hand to my brother, who looked at me briefly before shaking his hand. If Julian was curious as to why Turner didn’t meet his eyes, he didn’t show it.

I cleared my throat. “I’m Emily. His sister.”

Julian clasped my hand and I looked straight into his dancing green eyes. “Emily. What a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.”

“When David informed me that you had agreed to a meeting, Turner, we were all very excited.” Julian took a seat, long legs stretched out in front of him.

He took up too much space in this room, too much air. I glanced nervously at my brother. He hadn’t prepared for this eventuality. Hell, neither had I.

Turner put his hands palm-down on the table. “Let’s begin.”

David looked down at his papers. “Absolutely. Well, Turner, we’ve been lucky enough to see a sample of the code you’ve written recently. It’s great. You’re young but clearly very capable. We’d therefore like to offer you a position here at Tech José. It’s unusual, considering your age and lack of university education, but we think you have great potential.”

So that was how they were going to play it, I thought.

Great potential. Turner had great potential, of course, but the way David phrased it made it sound like they were doing him a favor. I didn’t know much about code, but I knew my brother, and Hunt Industries would be lucky to have him on their team.

“First and foremost, I am high-functioning autistic,” Turner said. “So I’m not as adept with interactions and social cues as you’re likely used to. Therefore, if you want me to do or not do something, it would be efficient for all of us involved if you just say so directly. I will do the same with you.”

Julian gave Turner a solemn nod. “Thank you for telling us that. We’ll make sure to keep all communications as clear as possible.”This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Thank you. Now, if I am to agree to work here, I have a number of demands.”

I saw that David’s eyes widened in surprise, but Julian regarded Turner with something quite different. It looked like respect.

“We’re listening.”

“My code is great,” Turner said. “I know it’s just as good as what your competitors are working on, because I’ve been comparing, and I have a lot more potential in me. Given the resources and time, I could do great things for a company of your size. I could also, of course, take my code and skill to another company who would gladly hire me. But I chose to come here first.”

Julian nodded. “We appreciate that. We’ll try to accommodate you, within reason.”

“I want my own office. It doesn’t matter where it is or what it looks like. But my own space without people distracting me.”

“Consider it done.” Julian leaned forward and braced strong forearms on the table, looking for all in the world like the consummate young CEO. This morning, I’d debated whether to have cereal or toast and now I was participating in a negotiation over my brother’s future with America’s favorite boy billionaire. What was my life?

Only, he was very much not a boy-that had been clear from the moment he lifted me yesterday. From the faint stubble on his cheeks or his deep voice.

My brother continued with his demands. “I don’t want to be…micro-managed. Poked and prodded every day. I know what I’m doing and I will do it.”

David opened his mouth to speak, but Julian cut in. “Done. Having seen lines of your code, I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“I want to be exempt from team-building exercises and any other obligatory company outings or events.”

“You’re welcome to join company events at your own discretion, or not,” David said. “We understand.”

I had to give it to the two men opposite us-I had not expected them to be so accommodating. While I’d always thought so, seeing them watch my little brother with such respect made me realize just how impressive Turner’s skills must be.

“And my final demand. I want to have a mini-fridge in my office that is always stocked with soda.”

I saw the corners of Julian’s mouth begin to curl. This had been Turner’s final demand, and the one he’d fretted over the longest. He’d asked me if I thought they could grant it, and quite frankly, I said it was the least they could do.

“There’s a communal fridge in the lounge room,” David said. But Julian shook his head and shot both me and Turner a blinding, practiced smile. “One stocked mini-fridge, coming up. I can’t help but notice that you haven’t mentioned any salary demands, Turner.”

Turner turned to me. “I don’t know what an adequate salary is. I’ve done some research, but nothing conclusive. Emily will tell you if what you are offering is acceptable or not.”

I squared my shoulders. This was why I was here. Not just to act as moral support, but to double-check all of the contracts before Turner signed anything. He was only nineteen. I’d been working for the past six years, had experienced both good and bad employers. No one was going to exploit my baby brother on my watch.

Julian watched me with those dark eyes of his. “Of course. We’re offering a starting salary of 52k a year, with a generous health insurance package and yearly bonuses. Your salary would be revisable upwards during quarterly performance meetings.”

“Here’s a draft of the contract.” David pushed a piece of paper across the table at us. “Feel free to take a look.”

52k. I struggled to contain my expression as I looked over the contract. It was a massive salary for someone without a university education. I’d always known that these places were practically flowing with money, but still. With that money, Turner could have a proper savings account by the end of the year. He was a saver by nature, and he would be able to pocket so much for the future.

Some of my nerves lessened.

But I kept re-reading the line at the bottom of the contract: any line of code written during the employees time on Tech José property will be considered the intellectual property of Tech José.

I didn’t know if Turner was going to invent anything, but it certainly wouldn’t surprise me. And if he did, it would be entirely out of his hands.

“You don’t look convinced,” Julian said. “What are you concerned about?”

I cleared my throat. “Line 27, regarding intellectual property rights.”

“Yes. A standard part of any software design contract.”

“I’m sure it is. But if my brother takes this job, he will not go to college. He will be learning and developing on the job. I don’t want this company to end up taking advantage of any code he might write or software he may invent.”

“We understand that.” Julian nodded. “But that clause is applicable only to things written using Tech José equipment and software on the property grounds. I also want to assure you that we have a very generous bonus structure and program. Turner will be well-compensated for his efforts in accordance with their reach. All employees of Hunt Industries are well-treated.”

I glanced down at the contract. It wouldn’t stop bothering me, I knew. But the job was arguably a good one, and they had agreed to all of Turners demands. I had been proud of him this entire meeting. My baby brother, growing up. Getting a job. Finding his place.

It had always been a matter of time before the world realized what a genius he was.

I knew I had to let go some time or another, and this was the place Turner had said he wanted to work at. I sighed, resigned to the prospect, and looked across the table at Julian and David.

I opened my mouth to agree, but Julian raised his hand.

“Before you object, Ms. Giordano, I have a suggestion.” He leaned back in his chair and looked with dark eyes between me and Turner. His gaze was speculative.