Dare to Love My Grumpy Boss by Ellie Hall

8

Shaw

My gaze floats over the group gathered before landing on a pretty woman with a heart-shaped face. She wears her caramel-colored hair in a high ponytail. She reminds me of a warm cookies and milk kind of person rather than a roughing it in the bush kind of gal. The kind of woman who prefers nights in with Netflix watching romcoms to action-adventure movies. She doesn’t belong here in her fitted leggings and sneakers more suited to jogging on a treadmill.

None of them belong here.

Even for me, the Amazon Rainforest with its danger and mystery is out of my depth, but as usual, I relish the challenge.

Simon Westlake, the CEO of AmTech sits on the hood of a Jeep. Along with Rick Stanmore, I had been a founder of DigiPower but stepped down as CEO for more manageable hours and to do consulting work. I opposed the merger with AmTech because Simon is known for being a pusher—he pushes his employees to the breaking point by setting up a competitive environment under the guise of teamwork.

His strategy is to lure everyone into a false sense of confidence and comradery and then pull the swivel chair out from under them.

I’m all for dedicated labor, but not at the expense of burnout. Sure, I work and play hard—extreme adventuring is my thing—but I know my limits. Simon does not. Bringing that group of pale, pasty, and scrawny nerds into the jungle was idiocy. They won’t make it. What point is Simon trying to prove?

The board got my attention once they said the company in question was Simon’s. I voiced my opposition to the merger and of the trip to Rick, my former partner and now head of DigiPower. For better or worse, my vote no longer counts—unless security is involved.

The truth is, as much as I love to travel and am up for a challenge, I’d much rather be on the HUB or in an email chat with @CookClickChick. There’s zero drama there. Just laughter and flirting...

Rick joins Simon in front of the Jeep. They welcome everyone to the Brazilian Rainforest and the Selva Survival Camp. The camp is less of a location and more like a person standing off to the side that is not part of our crew. He has a thickly creased face, wears a red bandana around his neck, and is otherwise all in blue. His pants and top don’t have loads of pockets and straps, but he does look at home in the jungle.

Once more grabbing my attention, Simon says, “I never thought I’d see AmTech and DigiPower come together, but we’re here to celebrate this merger, get to know each other, and challenge ourselves. In doing so, we’ll bond, form alliances, and come out stronger than before.”

That’s the cue for everyone to cheer, but half the group are like deer in headlights—or, more accurately, a bunch of computer geeks plonked down in the middle of the jungle…because they are.

The men and women from DigiPower are slightly more prepared, having gone on several adventures in and around northern California where the company is based—ziplining, base jumping, and scuba on the coast. Knowing they’d log loads of hours online, during the infancy of the company, I’d set up an employee gym and incentive program for staying healthy. I believe that employee health and happiness increase productivity and creativity. However, since stepping down from my primary role, Rick cut back on the programs. In some ways, I regret losing my ability to have a say, but I’ve gained freedom. On second thought, being here in the jungle, maybe not.

Rick wraps up the spiel, saying, “May the strongest survive.”

My stomach clenches.

That had been my mantra and Rick uses it now, not having any idea what it means to me. I had a tough childhood, and those words got me through.

Rick flashes a smirk. I’ve worked with him long enough to recognize it’s the kind that tells me something more is going on, but I can’t put my finger on what it might be.

Standing in a semicircle, the DigiPower crowd sizes up the AmTech crowd. Ah ha. I see it now. The new company doesn’t stand a chance. The merger is going to be a bloodbath. I glimpse Rick and Simon’s angle.

Survival of the fittest. Cut the fat. Keep the best. Lose the rest.

This whole thing is a power grab by DigiPower and Simon—the latter hardly cares about his employees and it seems like my former business partner isn’t much different. Then again, I knew that.

“Before we turn things over to Carlos, our guide while we’re guests here, we’re going to divide you up into pairs,” Rick says, pointing to the local in blue.

“Each pairing will consist of an AmTech employee and a DigiPower employee. This way you’ll get the opportunity to work together,” Simon the slimeball says.

Someone mutters, “We work on virtual projects, not actual life and death experiences.”

Rick goes on to read DigiPower workers’ names. Simon counters with a partner from AmTech.

“Shaw Dawson,” Rick says.

I step forward.

Simon says, “Cora Albright.”

I peer through the crowd. The small woman with the pretty heart-shaped face and high ponytail slowly stashes her phone as she approaches. I was paired with Cookie of the warm with milk variety. Great.

She’s more than a head shorter than me and may as well be trembling. Maybe she’s hungry. Low blood sugar? We haven’t had breakfast yet. I have a stash of protein bars in my backpack along with other supplies. She has a fanny pack that contains her phone and probably a pack of gum and lip gloss. Not helpful.

When Simon reaches the last of his employees on the list, his enthusiastic claps are met by softer, uncertain ones from the crowd.

Rick welcomes Carlos, the guide. He leads us to the river’s edge where canoes wait.

The shoreline is mucky and my boots squelch. Cora steps forward like she’s dipping her toes in a pool of water. “Is it quicksand?”

I look down. Sure, my boot is partially submerged, but I’m not sinking. I grunt, wanting to get this stupid team-building exercise over. “Hurry up and get in the canoe before we find out.”

She practically hurls herself inside, causing the thing to rock back and forth like an out-of-control baby cradle. I’d have extended my hand to help, but it was too late. As she passed, I caught a whiff of perfume—she’s sure to be a mosquito magnet.

With a few other pairs in the canoe, we paddle upriver.

Neither Simon nor Rick joins us. They’re probably going to lounge poolside and plan their new empire. If they’re expecting this trip to break me down, they’d better watch out. I’ll be having a few words with them when this is over—and I don’t expect they’ll like the hardened-by- and hungry-from-the-rainforest version of me.

When we reached the other shore, Carlos, with his thick Brazilian accent, welcomes everyone with a friendly smile. But that’s where his warmth ends. He goes on to tell us how we’ll be spending the next four days focusing on creating shelter, clean water, fire, and foraging for food while camping in the jungle. We also have to navigate the wilds, hike rough terrain, and solve puzzles to survive the expedition.

I glance at my partner, who I’m going to call “Cookie” from now on. Her eyes are wide and glassy. Still jittery, her shoulders droop.

We’re not in the office anymore, sweetheart.

Someone mutters, “It’s like a real-life video game.”

Cookie tucks her phone away and replies, “Yeah, but we only have one life and can’t just start over if we fall off a bridge or get attacked by a bear.”

“There aren’t bears in this part of the Amazon rainforest,” I say.

“Well, whatever giant, human-eating beasts are out there.” She flaps her hand a little bit like the idea of the unknown terrifies her.

“Jaguars, black caiman, wandering spiders, and golden frogs are the four deadliest creatures in the Amazon. Since we’re going to be partners, I figured you should know what you’re in for,” I say in a low voice only she can hear.

“I did not sign up for this. I don’t want to be partners or go camp in the jungle. Least of all do I want to know what’s out there that could eat me.” Her voice rises a few decibels.

Meanwhile, Carlos continues discussing the expedition and identifying what foods are safe to eat. I’ve only been half-listening because along with a handful of other guys, I’ve noticed Cora Albright, Cookie to me. She has distractingly big forest green eyes, a light splattering of freckles, and caramel-brown hair. She’s in shape, but not survive-the-Amazon-shape.

Just my luck, being stuck with the pretty girl from the rival company. My last girlfriend betrayed me, so I’m not looking for pretty girls...not much anyway. In the years since the breakup, I haven’t found someone I want to spend my life with. At least not in real life.

Not unless their username is @CookClickChick and they’re funny and humble enough to joke about being an ogre. Not that I think she is. Not at all. It almost doesn’t matter. I imagine that whatever she looks like, she’ll be beautiful to me.

As the group mills around, clearly stunned by the beautiful but dangerous setting of the corporate retreat, Cookie opens her fanny pack. I was right about the contents. She checks her phone again, holding it up for a signal. It has a case with a pink cupcake on it. She sighs as though disappointed and tucks it away.

I tear my mind of the converging thoughts of the distant past, messaging with @CookClickChick, and Cookie.

After the briefing, Carlos hands out a laminated sheet with instructions for the day and says we’ll meet up at dusk.

I shoulder my backpack containing survival gear and tilting my head to signal we’d better get moving. “I’ve lived by the motto that it’s better to be prepared than surprised. My work as a cyber security consultant is a prime example of this. Preempt attacks, prevent infiltration, and assume a dominant, defensive position—what I call the three P’s.” Not the most creative, but it’s about the purpose and not a more creative acronym—though I’m guessing @CookClickChick could come up with something clever or at least say something witty—or because the reality of our relationship was digital, she’d write something witty.

It dawns on me that I don’t even know the sound of her voice, her scent, or what any of her expressions look like. Is she serious? Smiley? Nervous?

I have no idea.

And I’m in the jungle, half a continent away. Even though we were on opposite sides of the country, divided by a screen, I feel farther than ever.

“This is sort of like a mashup of the shows Survivor and Running Wild, huh?” Cookie asks.

“Except it’s IRL,” I reply.

The corner of her lip quirks as though she appreciates the use of the texting shorthand, a reminder of real life, at least up until that moment as Carlos disappears into the brush, leaving us to fend for ourselves.

I consult the laminated card and start toward the jungle. Cookie follows me like a puppy at my heels.

I pause, realizing that it’s only fair she knows what she’s getting into. My advantage is obvious to me, but if she spends days writing code and her nights fighting pixelated bad guys, she’s poorly equipped for this venture. With no thanks to Simon and Rick, and that’s the point.

“You do realize that this is a survival of the fittest exercise. In each pair, whoever perseveres keeps their job,” I say, revealing what I believe is Rick and Simon’s masterplan.

Her brow wrinkles. “No way. It’s about teamwork and getting to know each other.”

“They may have told you that, but if you believe it, you weren’t listening to the spiel. In fact, if memory serves, you were on your phone.”

“You keep checking yours too.” She stomps ahead on the trail.

Yeah, hoping for an email, but the service here is zilch. I stop us and plant my hand on her shoulder.

She twitches.

“Cookie, make no mistake, each pair isn’t a team. We’re opponents.” That much has become clear to me.

“That’s diabolical. No way.” She glances around as the traces of civilization fade away. Filled with disbelief, her green eyes meet mine.

“Way,” I say in response to her incredulity. “I know Rick well. I figured it out while Carlos was talking. Because of the merger, we’re fighting for the same job.”

“So you’re a software tech engineer?” she asks.

“Was. Am.”

“You can’t be both,” she says.

I shift irritably, but I may as well tell the truth. We’re stuck in the jungle together. What I say here will likely stay here. “I used to co-own DigiPower. I know how to do every job there. We bootstrapped to begin so yeah, I can code, engineer, and even clean the toilets.”

Her eyebrow arches as if she too had a realization. “Wait, you’re the Shaw Dawson. Made it on Forbes Top Thirty Under Thirty.” Her gaze narrows as she correctly identifies me.

“That was years ago, but yes. That’s me.”

She must connect the dots because her eyes narrow. “And five years before that, you were a computer hacker.”

“Conjecture.”

“But you don’t deny it.” Accusation creeps into her voice.

I give a noncommittal shrug. I’ve never lied about my past, but no one has ever had the gall to ask me point-blank. Likely because if they work with computers, they know a person with my skill set can make their digital life a nightmare with the swipe of a few keys.

People just assume or don’t. It isn’t worth my time to try to explain.

“So I’m heading into the wilderness with a criminal,” Cookie mutters.

“And I’m headed into the jungle with a cupcake, er cookie.”

“I resent that.” She snorts.

“For the record, if you paid attention, you’d know that I ultimately used my powers for good so...” I’m not proud of my past and the trouble I caused (banks and large sums of money were involved, though it was a RobinHood situation in many ways), but I did what I did to change my life—to get out of a tough situation. Yes, that included some things I’m not proud of, but I’ve more than made up for it by contributing positively to the technology industry and my country.

“So you admit it,” she says.

“What happens in the jungle stays in the jungle, Cookie.”

“Cupcake? Cookie? Which is it?”

I’d rather not think of sweets because @CookClickChick pops into my mind and my pretty partner and my online crush confuses my body and brain.

When I don’t answer, she says, “My name is Cora, BTW.”

We near the water, and she’s on her phone again.

“There’s no way you have cell reception this deep in the wilderness. Better to put that thing away.”

All at once, she lurches forward, tripping over something jutting out of the ground. Instinctually, I reach out to help and manage to keep her from careening over but don’t stop her phone from plopping into the water.