Dare to Love My Grumpy Boss by Ellie Hall

6

Shaw

It’s been a while since I was the last person in the office. I often stay late, but not this late. For years, I’d logged long hours and even slept in my desk chair more than once. But those were different times. After some serious burnout and being burned (figuratively), I’d scaled back but wasn’t any less a workaholic. My focus is internet and software security, and most would argue that it’s an around-the-clock job.

Lately, I’ve been here more often, making myself semi-useful between direct messages. However, this evening, I’m not shoring up firewalls or encrypting software. I’m waiting for the telltale ping from the messenger inside the HUB—it’s a geeky acronym that few know, but all that matters is that it connects people from various companies to form alliances, work cooperatively, and help each other. After the rapid changes in the last few decades, there’s no question whether technology will survive, but if it’s to thrive, people in the industry have to see each other as all working toward a common goal instead of being rivals.

In this business, guys and the handful of gals are brutally cutthroat, climbing their way to the top. Truth is, it’s lonely up there. I’d know. I jiggle my mouse to wake up my monitor, but the HUB dashboard is the same as before.

I spent the first part of my life at odds with my father. I don’t want the place I’ve sought refuge (internet technologies) to be the same alpha-male, power struggle that I worked hard to escape, so I created opportunities for collaboration.

Skimming through the message boards, I answer a few questions about programming and coding, check my regular email, and read an article about the future of artificial intelligence when the ping sounds.

A zing follows it. I look forward to this every day. Technically, for me, the only way to access the HUB is at work, which is why I’m still there. I used to have it on my laptop at home, but it compelled me to work even more. So a few years ago, I went on a digital detox for a week. When I came back, I forced myself to remove and block it from being reinstalled on my home computer.

Drastic measures, I know, but the internet can be addictive. So can chatting with @CookClickChick.

The low-wave electrical jolt ripples through me as I open the chat box.

@CookClickChick: Sorry for being so quiet over here. I’ve been swamped at work. If only I could control-alt-delete this week from the database.

@PacManWizard: Sorry to hear that. :-( Let’s see if I can find a workaround...

@CookClickChick: If you can come up with a way to alter the time-space continuum, I will see to it you get a special award. Nobel prize?

@PacManWizard: Nah. Too much responsibility. Where would I go from there? A mug with the words #1 Computer Geek will suffice.

@CookClickChick: No problem. I have my 3D printer right here and will whip one up. BRB.

I chuckle. BRB is short for be right back. She’s so cute. So funny. We use shorthand all the time. In the last few days, more than once, my fingers hovered over M4C which is short for meet for coffee. It’s doubtful we could do that in person, but we could web conference. It would be nice to at least put a face to the text.

I sigh. We don’t even know each other’s real names though. That’s a big step I’m not sure that I’m ready for so anonymous messaging remains.

All the same, I feel like I can be himself with her more than with anyone else. There’s no expectation that I write something clever because of my renown for having invented several crucial pieces of security software that made me millions. On the HUB, I’m just @PacManWizard. No strings. No pressure. No stress.

As for my background, I know how to protect online assets because I also know how to infiltrate them. That’s my dirty little secret—and goes deeper than my occasional dinner of spaghetti with ketchup. I left off the barbecue sauce part. I worried @CookClickChick would delete me. A few people in the tech world know my background, but it isn’t common knowledge.

However, @CookClickChick prompted the question I ask myself so often. What next? A lot of people play the lottery, hoping to win big then kick back...and do nothing. I’m not that kind of person. I coded my way out of extreme poverty, for better or worse, worked hard for over a decade and don’t plan to stop—even though I could retire financially comfortable today and never look back.

Lately, I’ve felt like I want a change. Be outdoors more. Get back to my roots. Not all the way back but spend more time in nature. Something like that.

My knee jitters. She hasn’t pinged again.

@PacManWizard: Did you get that mug ready? Because I’m over here waiting... Have I mentioned I love coffee?

I was going to add something flirty about having coffee together but hesitate. In one swift click of the enter button, I could ruin the thing we have with the added complication of meeting in person. We should remain online. Easier. Cleaner.

@CookClickChick: Sorry, I was just putting out an interdepartmental dumpster fire about a broken piece of HTML in the coding. How basic is that? Oh, and it’s the same one I already corrected twice this week. Please, delete the week. Please.

@PacManWizard: If you could do anything right now aside from putting out interdepartmental dumpster fires, what would it be?

@CookClickChick: Real-life or fantasy-virtual life?

@PacManWizard: Definitely virtual life.

This is a little game we started playing a few weeks ago. Real-life has to fit inside the parameters of what exists in our respective realities. In real life, we can’t teleport or have smell-o-vision. In virtual life, we can explore our wildest dreams...as we’ve gotten to know each other better, part of me wants to make those dreams come true for @CookClickChick. I have the resources, well, minus the ability to erase time since her week has been hard.

@CookClickChick: Remember the state-of-the-art kitchen I described?

@PacManWizard: I’m already at the table and it smells delicious.

She’s been on a breakfast kick for a while then popped in earlier this week with a description of some sandwiches. Anytime she talks about the food she makes, my mouth practically starts watering.

@CookClickChick: It’s a pasta kind of night. NO KETCHUP ALLOWED. Think alfredo sauce with broccoli and loads of parmesan. Grilled chicken, fresh basil, and garlic...

@PacManWizard: There is no such thing as too much cheese.

@CookClickChick: Phew. I’m so glad we can still be best friends ;-) Had you said otherwise, I may have had to click escape.

Can a dude get butterflies? I let out a long breath, feeling bad and helpless about her week being so difficult. With a work trip coming up and a lot of changes at the office that requires everyone at their best to prepare, I can relate. It isn’t easy for anyone, but it’s like some of my coworkers are cyborgs. They do what they’re told (not a bad thing) but can’t shift gears until they upload new programming into their mainframe. @CookClickChick and I have discussed this extensively and even created avatars and names for each of them.

The dots on her chat box blink.

Again, my stomach flutters, reminding me of the times I’ve jumped out of airplanes. On those occasions, I had a parachute. I’m a bit of an adventure junkie. I gaze out my office window toward the sky and then drop to the horizon. It’s now or never. I have to take the leap.

@PacManWizard: Seeing as we both have work trips coming up and will be away from the HUB, do you want to exchange emails so we can stay in touch?

I’ve been hesitant to take the relationship out from behind the screen after being backstabbed by a lousy ex.

But moving from the HUB to email would still be relatively anonymous. The dots continue to blink.

I wait.

And wait.

My pulse doubles when I read her reply.

@CookClickChick: I thought you’d never ask.