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She lets out a heavy breath as she swings her purse over her shoulder. Her phone in hand has her attention for a moment before she says, “My daughter’s got a science fair to prepare for, and that means I have a science fair to prepare for.” A huff of a laugh leaves me as I nod in acknowledgement.
I like Juliana. She’s a mother who’s done a good job of juggling career and family success. She knows how to balance, and part of that is not settling. “Of course. How is she doing, anyway? She’s a junior now?”
“And already getting letters from schools trying to recruither,” Juliana says with more than a hint of pride. My smile widens for her, and I wave her off.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. You can tell me about the rest of the state comptroller visit in the morning.”
I’ve already dismissed her in my mind, returning my attention to the deal I was working on before she came in. It’s a complex venture, one I haven’t decided on investing in yet, mostly because what they’re creating sounds like science fiction. I mean, computer networks built along plant-based highways, information passed along DNA strands? Paper thin computers that can outperform modern high-end laptops yet be rolled up into a tube and powered by the equivalent of a solar cell phone charger? That’s game changing advancements right there. It’s wildly outlandish, but also, if even one of their projects comes to fruition, the return on investment will be in the trillions.
“Sounds good,” Juliana says, and I glance up at her tone. She cuts her eyes to the door.
“Tamara’s gone for the day. Say what you want to,” I tell her, leaning back in my chair.
“Your new acquisition,” she says with an arched brow. “I have a feeling she’ll do well here.”
“Did you check up on her?” I ask. “You were busy with the inspector, no?”
She gives me a wry look. She’s known around the office as ‘Sharpe’s Razor’ for a reason. She has little to no time nor inclination for bullshit or niceties. Straight to the point, getting things done is how Juliana manages everything in her purview.
“We both know she comes with baggage,” Juliana says bluntly, acknowledging that she’s aware of the rumors. “She did well, though. When I went downstairs, the markets had just closed and she was picking the other traders’ brains, wanting to know how they do things the ‘Sharpe Way’. She seems eager to fit in, learn, and make you a lot of money. Don’t fuck it up for her, Dylan.”
“Noted,” I say stiffly. Juliana is calling me to the carpet as a friend, and as the head of my HR department, which is what I pay her to be, so I can’t be too upset.
Having said her piece, she leaves, ranting about science project hypotheses and results charting.
Over the next hour, I find myself checking the clock more often than not, unable to get Raven off my mind and certainly not understanding the nuances of DNA splicing in the report I’m trying to read.
Finally, at exactly six o’clock, there’s a knock on my door, and I’m surprised by the intense sense of relief I feel. I think there was a part of me that worried she wouldn’t come.
“Come in,” I call out, and when the door opens, I’m spellbound. She’s utterly captivating. Raven comes in, closing the door behind her, and takes a seat in the chair across from me. Instantly, I’m hard. Fuck.
With my hands clasped together, I put them on the desk and ignore every impulse that begs me to sit her on my desk, push that conservative skirt up her thighs, spread her legs, and get my fill. Clearing my throat, I ask, “So, how was your first day?”
“I feel like I ran the gamut today,” Raven jokes, letting out a held breath but managing a smile. “Restarting my computer after completing my firm onboarding, pulling up the trading software, and seeing that one and six zeroes freaked me out a bit at first, I’ll admit.”
“Is that why you only spent a quarter of it on soy futures?” I ask, and Raven lifts an eyebrow. “I was keeping tabs on you, just in case.” Rather than seem offended, she relaxes slightly. As if my oversight could keep her from making any major missteps. “I can check on any of the traders or trading at my discretion. I simply kept yours up on a background screen today.” I gesture to one of my monitors.
The truth is, I rarely check on theindividual traders or their trades. It’s like worrying about a single rain drop while swimming in the ocean. But I watched Raven today, interested to see what she did and trying to figure how her mind works.
“Then did you see that I put the funds out the way I did to create an integrated investment system, the pieces interlocking with each other?”
I lean back in my seat, rocking slightly. “I did. I like the way you think.”
Her eyes light up with the compliment. Fucking hell, she’s even more gorgeous when she smiles. I swear, this woman put a fucking spell on me.
“And your plan is to use what’s not the minimum maintenance to shift the engine each rotation,” I conclude, and Raven nods. “A very gestalt idea. Most traders would just juice the engine.”
“If you’re looking for a quarterly bump, sure,” Raven says. “But this system will create wealth for a generation. With a bit more tweaking, and applying this idea to other cycles, multiple generations. Already, I’ve made more profit than I got paid in the past twelve months.”
I turn, pulling up Raven’s account and seeing the figures. “You were underpaid.”
“Maybe, but this is just the start. I’ll get better, I know it.”
“I’m sure you will too,” I reply.
That’s it. She’s given me the report of her figures for the day, and I should let her go.
But I can’t. I won’t. Not yet.
