Are you my Adonis?

Meeting Devin Hastings

It’s been three months since the wedding and that night with that mystery man. Life pretty much resumed as normal. Sally and Bill returned from their honeymoon with pictures and souvenirs. I gradually started distancing myself from them, using the excuse that they were married now and needed their space. Bill was not thrilled when I told him I wouldn’t be as involved with his channel and content making. I promised him that I’d hire staff to take over my work. I made the excuse that the 3rd quarter was ramping up at work and I would be traveling more, which is true. Ever since I became VP, my workload has increased. And being the President’s daughter didn’t excuse me from any of that.

There are grumblings that I’m a nepo baby, but there is no doubt I earned my position. Dad and Mom didn’t believe in nepotism. They had actually discouraged me from joining the company, but I insisted, knowing that I had dreamt of joining their company since I was a little kid. I went through the hiring process without anyone knowing I was related to the CEO and the President. I worked hard from the bottom to gain recognition on my own. I earned every promotion and every special assignment on my own. My relationship with my parents was only revealed when the board made me VP.

I was sitting in the back of my Bentley with my assistant Jacob. Jacob was a college friend that I hired because, outside of Bill and Sally, I could trust him the most. He was the only one who knew about my long-time unrequited love for Bill. He spotted it one day when the four of us went on a hiking trip. Since then, he has become my only confidant when it came to matters of the heart.

We were going through the last-minute prep for our meeting with Devin Hastings, CEO of Gorgetech Innovations. Despite my extensive digging, there wasn’t much I could find out about Mr. Hastings. He seemed to stay out of the public eye and stayed holed up in his company. I couldn’t even find a photograph of him on the company website or his LinkedIn. One thing I know is that the man is a genius. His approach to AI tech and smart home tech has revolutionized the consumer market. I was flattered that he took notice of my Biotech research on cellular memory storage that gave us the opportunity for this meeting.

We finally pulled up to the Gorgetech Innovations Building, and Jacob was already fussing with my lapels. I rolled my eyes when he took out a lint roller from his briefcase and started picking at invisible pieces of lint on my blazer. I heard him muttering about my chosen outfit and how I could use a personal shopper. I gave him the same wry grin I always give him when he comments on my outfits.

Early on in my career, I learned to dress very primly yet professionally. I have noticed even now in this century, the men in the corporate world judge a woman on her presentation rather than her ability. I traded my skirts for slacks and pretty tops for blazers. I even stopped wearing my contacts and opted for bold black-framed glasses. My outfit choices weren’t dowdy or demure, however. They were just female versions of power suits. They grabbed attention for the right reasons. They told the story that I was no-nonsense and in charge.

I looked in the mirror one last time to make sure I had no stray hairs sticking out from my signature slicked-back bun. I had once contemplated cutting my hair short into a power pixie, but my father threatened to cut me out of the will if I did it. He wanted me to be at least somewhat feminine. Plus, my loose curls and hair color were an exact copy of my mother’s. I took a deep breath and fixed my posture before I exited the car. Out of principle, I never had Hank hold my door open. Sure, most executives had their drivers or assistants do so, but it would be seen as a weakness due to my gender.

I stood with a straight back and adjusted my blazer before I walked to the entrance of the building. I walked with the bold stride I had modeled after my father’s gait that exuded power. I had long forgotten the girly sway in my hips that I used to have in my teenage and young adult years because I had noticed that the members of the board did not take me seriously unless I gave them no chance to dream about bedding me. Jacob fell in line to my right, slightly behind me, matching my stride. My stilettos, the only feminine piece of attire I wore, clacked on the polished floor of the lobby. I wore them only to add height and announce my presence. I did have to admit I loved seeing the lower executives scurry out of the way when they heard my shoes.

I kept a neutral face I had learned over the years since I got out of the car. In the corporate setting, I hardly ever smile because it makes me look soft. It made men pay attention to my words rather than my face. I didn’t need to hear comments about my pretty smile. Even my makeup was basically a “no makeup” look except for my eyes. Because they were hidden behind my glasses, I tend to use bold eye shadow with strong winged eyeliner. All of this had earned me the title, Ice Queen of Tech.

We approached a man in his late 20s standing in the lobby, waiting to greet me. He was tall with golden brown hair and friendly hazel eyes. He wore a very tasteful charcoal grey suit with a light blue shirt and accentuated with a navy blue pinstriped tie. It suited him very well but was not overly flashy. He smiled brightly with familiarity and approached me.

“Hello, Ms. Fowler. I’m Thomas Ford, Mr. Hastings’ assistant. It is nice to finally meet you in person,” he said while extending his hand out to me. I took it and gave it a very firm handshake. I saw the surprise in his eyes at the strength of my grip. Also, another thing I had to learn in my corporate climb.

“Hello, Thomas,” I said to him warmly without smiling. “I do remember you from our communications. This is Jacob Metzler, my assistant.”

I watched the two men shake hands and secretly size each other up. I almost smirked when I saw Jacob’s little tell that he was interested in him more than professionally. Still, I knew I could trust Jacob not to drool over Thomas during our visit. I didn’t only hire him because I trusted him with my secrets. He knew his job and looked good doing it.

“Mr. Hastings has asked me to escort you to the conference room,” said Thomas, completely oblivious that I would be hearing about his hotness from Jacob on the drive back home.

“Thank you. I will look forward to meeting Mr. Hastings. I have been an admirer of his work for a long time,” I replied. With that, Thomas directed us to the elevator and took us up to the top floor.

“He should already be in the conference room right now,” Thomas commented as he led us down a hall. He opened a set of double doors for us. I walked in with my usual confidence and my practiced gait. I turned to the man sitting at the table and stopped for a nanosecond. My usual corporate mask almost slipped when I saw those stormy blue eyes and jet-black hair. He was the Adonis from that night. Devin Hastings is my mystery Adonis.