Absolute Zero (3 page)

“So, where did you work?” the woman asked and it truly appeared the question made her nervous. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them again and her voice seemed to stammer in reply.

The prying continued; the hesitant answers followed until the strangest thing occurred.
Did she just say she worked for a company that made sex toys?

He looked down at the cover of last month’s
Bio Supply Trends
before his eyes snapped up at her words, not quite believing what was coming out of her mouth. Apparently the other woman was just as shocked as he was judging from her body language. She sat upright, eyes wide. She whispered something before Anne continued on with some crazy story about exploding penises and hot dogs in microwaves. She did
not
just say that. 
Was she serious?
He watched her eyes grow wide as she demonstrated the explosion while still concentrating on her lap. The small smile that curved one side of her lips up indicated her pleased state as the other woman was not only rendered somewhat speechless but she also moved toward the opposite side of her seat.

He bit back a shocked laugh as he continued to watch her closely. Another person, a woman, judging by her voice, walked into the opening. His head turned toward the windows to avoid detection.

“Dr. Bennett?”

“Yep, that’s me,” she announced jovially.

She was out of the chair in a shot, grabbing her briefcase and wandering toward the woman and out of the opening causing the other woman to follow behind.

His eyes watched her retreating back until she disappeared around a corner. She was small in stature but the combination of the outfit and her confident walk more than made up for her lack of size. She was…intriguing to say the least.

“Ah…that was weird,” he could hear from across the room. His eyes reluctantly swiveled to the middle aged woman seated on the other side of the lobby. She was looking at him with widened eyes.

He was about to agree before she interrupted.

“Hi, I’m Claire…”

He gave a small nod and a smile before placing the magazine back on the table and standing up. Checking his watch, he noticed it was two minutes past eight.

“Claire? Good day,” he stated before wandering from the room and approaching the semi-circular reception desk. The woman behind the desk looked up and gave a nervous smile once again.

“When or
if
Mr. Winters comes in? Tell him he’s late. Tell him that I will
not
consider distribution through his company. Can you do that for me, love?” He was walking past the desk as she stared dumbfounded after him. He quickly stopped and turned toward her once again, causing her to jolt.

“That woman, out in the lobby? What is she doing here?” he asked quietly with a slight jerk of his head in her direction.

“Ah…she’s um…job interview for…ah, Accounting?” she replied nervously.

“Right. Thank you,” he stated before walking away. Her eyes followed until he was out of sight before she blew out a breath. Turning her head, she jolted again, finding a rather handsome looking man standing in front of the reception desk.

“Ah…Hi?’ she squeaked out.

“Hello. I’m Cameron Winters? I’m here to see Dr. McClellan,” he announced as he took the pen and angled the book towards him to sign in.

“Ah…” she cleared her throat nervously before swallowing audibly. “He’s…you’re…see, he said…” She took a deep breath.

“Yes?” The man prompted.

“You’re late and he said…that…” she swallowed again before continuing, “He said he’s not going to consider distribution with your company.”

“What?! I’m…” He shoved his suit jacket up revealing a watch, “Three minutes late! There was traffic and…are you for real?” His eyes turned angry.

“Ah…”

“Call him,” he demanded.

“I…no. I can’t, he said…”

“Never mind, I’ll call him,” he stated in a huff. Grabbing a cell phone from his pocket, he angrily punched numbers and placed it to his ear. He was staring at her with a scowl on his face. Suddenly, he wasn’t quite so handsome anymore.

“Dr. McClellan? This is…no I…wait, there was…no? I…three minutes!” he exclaimed as he loosened his tie with his free hand. “But…” he started, but apparently the call was cut off. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a second before jamming it in his pocket, picking up his briefcase and turning abruptly toward the door. Her mouth opened but shut immediately as he shoved the glass door open and practically stormed through it.

Well, now…what a day
this
was turning out to be…
she thought sarcastically before the ringing phone on her desk jolted her for the third time in the space of an hour.

*****

“Hello? Yes, this is Ian McClellan. You have an interview this morning?” he spoke into phone.

“Ah…yes?” the disembodied male voice answered through the speaker, filling the massive office.

“Claire? Please don’t hire Claire. She’s a bletherer. I can’t have my employees jumping off the roof, eh?”

“Excuse me? But…”

“I’m serious. I have to go. Good day.” He promptly pressed the button to end the call as his computer pinged with yet another email notification. He regarded the screen for a few moments debating on whether to open it and read it. His eyes wandered toward the closed door to his office before settling on the screen once again.

Reluctantly, he sat down at his desk chair and pressed his mouse button to open it, looking at, but not truly reading the words. His mind sort of wandered back toward a pixie with shining hair and a clearly anti-social personality.

He sighed and pushed her from his mind, concentrating on the email instead.

*****

“Dunmed Syntech was founded twelve years ago by Dr. Ian McClellan, and in that space of time, the company has grown exponentially by merging with and buying up smaller pharmaceutical companies.  We have six locations Worldwide with the majority of Research and Development occurring in Dundee, Scotland and a small portion here in the States.  The other facilities are manufacturing and support services. We have locations in France, Germany…” the woman stated, her speech clearly memorized and well-practiced. She sounded like a tour guide or an amusement park ride operator…
Keep your hands and feet inside the moving vehicle…

*****

An hour later and she was looking at her watch under the table.
How long
was
this orientation? And how many more pages of this Employee Handbook is she going to read? I can read. I just want to
work
.

“Page 8. We have a strict no fraternization policy. We do not encourage relationships between employees, but especially between employees and management.”

You said it, sister.
She tried that once with David.
It worked so well
…she thought sarcastically.

David. Her mind wandered away from the voice that kept speaking in some strange monotone cadence.
I wonder if he married Ingrid? They would make beautiful babies. They deserve each other. Rotten, superficial couple that they are.
She should have known something was up when he and Ingrid broke up and immediately he had started asking Anne out. She finally succumbed to his charm, flattered that he would even notice her in a sea of beautiful women…

Back to reality.
What was this lady talking about?

“So if you…oh! Excuse me, I…ah…” Anne looked from the screen to the stuttering woman to the opened door.

A man walked through. Nice enough looking but apparently his appearance brought this well practiced speaker to a speech-impaired state.

“Mr. Ah, well…Mr…”

“Mac. Just call me Mac, eh?” he asked as he sat down at the table opposite of Anne. He had an accent. Almost like a brogue. His eyes were on her and he gave her a small smile. She acknowledged with a nod before her eyes shifted back to the screen.

Silence.

“Carry on,” he stated with an authoritative tone and still there was…nothing.

Finally, she croaked something out, something unintelligible which caused Anne’s eyes to focus on her once more.

“I…just…Ok, well…” she reached over to press a button on her computer and inadvertently knocked over a small glass of water. It clattered to the table surface, spilling the contents and spreading immediately. She stood stunned for a few moments before springing into action, moving the computer away from the spreading water, pushing papers to the side as Anne and the new arrival sat and watched.

“Here…” Anne handed a few small napkins from the center of the table to the woman, throwing a couple on the spreading water before sitting back.

The woman was wiping, muttering something below her breath in her obviously nervous state. Anne and the new arrival glanced at each other as she continued her frantic wiping and blotting.

“I need some…could you just…umm…excuse me…” she stated before walking out of the door abruptly.

Anne stared at the door before the new arrival’s voice caused her to shift her eyes to him.

“That was strange,” he stated. He was staring at her, making her feel a bit self-conscious in the small confines of the room. Her eyes shifted to the table.

“Yeah,” was the only response she felt necessary.

“Was she like that the whole time?” he asked. If she cared to look up, she would see his intense gaze focused on her. As it was, she could actually
feel
it…

“She was fine until you walked in. Then she lost her mind,” she muttered absently to the table.

“I have that effect on women,” he stated seriously, causing her eyes to fly up and meet his.
Was he serious?

No. Apparently he must have been joking because one side of his mouth was turned up. He was still gazing directly at her, his dark blue eyes focused intently on her face.

He certainly wasn’t the most handsome guy she’d ever seen, yet there was
something
about him. There was a scar near the middle of his upper lip, his nose was by no means perfect, maybe a little crooked, his hair was fighting the skin on his forehead for territory. He reminded her of Daniel Craig with darker hair or maybe…nah,
definitely Daniel Craig
.

Her eyes shifted back toward the screen. She could see why the other woman fled the room.
Would it be strange if I walked out too?
  There was something about him. He seemed to fill the room when he walked in. He was unnerving, intense, and he was still staring at her. She could see his face turned towards her in her peripheral vision. She fought the urge to fidget or clear her throat in a nervous gesture.
This was just so damned…uncomfortable
.

“So, what’s your name?” he asked, knowing full well what it was.

“Anne,” she answered, her eyes still glued to the screen.

“Hello Anne, I’m Mac.”

With his accent, her name sounded more like the word ‘on’.

“Yeah. I mean, Hi,” she added, refusing to meet his eyes.

“So…Anne, you’re a new hire, eh? What department?” he asked.

“R&D,” she responded automatically, her eyes were still affixed to the words on the screen.

“Hmm…marketing or scientist?” he asked. Unfortunately, her bangs were swept to the opposite side so rolling her eyes or making any other type of unflattering facial expression would be inappropriate since he could see her face clearly.

“Scientist,” she mumbled.
Where did that woman go? What was her name? Oh, who cared? What was it about the people in this town?
  Everyone was so damn…
chatty.

“So, where are you from?” he asked.

She turned her eyes toward him, softening the angry glare and schooling her face into a bland countenance.

Deep breath.

Be nice
. The other woman would be back soon, she would continue on with her ridiculously boring and unnecessary orientation and Anne could go back to ignoring the man across the table from her.
Oh, please hurry up, lady.

“West Coast,” she replied with a certain sort of finality to her tone.

“Really, now? That’s specific, eh?
Where
on the West Coast?” he asked with a hint of humor.

“California,” she responded coolly, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Now we’re getting warmer.
Where
in California?” he asked pointedly.

Why do you care?

“San Diego,” she responded instead.

“Oh yes! They have a nice Zoo there. I bet you went there all the time, eh?”

Why is everyone so damned fascinated with the Zoo?

“Ah…once. Once was enough. You’ve seen one ape; you’ve seen ‘em all…” she muttered before shifting her gaze back down to the Handbook on the table in front of her.

One of his eyebrows shot up
. What was that? Some veiled put-down?
This woman was something else. She was clearly not much of a conversationalist; evidenced by her earlier display and now…