I scribble another series of notes on the pad in front of us. “Okay, so that meta-analysis was published in the late 90s, and it suggests that this has all been done before, right?”

Ronnie looks at the paper in her hands. “Yep.”

“But that article published just last year refutes that, and they go into a lot of detail showing that the earlier one wasn’t credible, right?”

“Yep. I went through them both last week, and it’s pretty hard to see how they could be wrong. I can show you the working if you want.”

I sit back in my chair and rub my eyes. “At some point, I do, but now, let’s just get some dinner. I don’t know about you, but I’m dying here.”

Ronnie smiles at me. “I thought you’d never ask. Noodles?”

“Ah, the traditional food of the unfortunate late-night office worker. I’ll make the call; you refill our water glasses. Meet you back here in my office in five.”

* * *

Later, noodle boxes in hand, I’m trying to explain how I could teach advanced mathematics to bored college students using spaghetti. “No, I’m serious. The thing is, cooked spaghetti is mathematically a very interesting substance. You can use it to explain a lot of complicated concepts in topology”

Ronnie points a chopstick at me. “Was this metaphor invented to engage students, or to stop yourself from getting bored in those long classes?”

“Guilty as charged.” I hold up one hand. “I, Tom Macaulay, do solemnly swear that even I get bored of the sound of my own voice sometimes. But I’ll deny it if you tell anyone I said that.”

“Plus, if you get hungry during class, you’ve got a snack right there.”

“Exactly. I knew there was a reason I wanted you on this team.” I smile. “So, as fascinating as my teaching stories are, I’m not going to inflict them on you all night. How did you get here?”

“Hmm. For me it started with computers. I always wanted to know how things worked. My Poppa always said I was taking things apart and trying to put them back together from when I was little. When I said I wanted to go to college to study software engineering, my parents worked really hard to make sure I could do it.”

“That sounds wonderful. You’re very lucky to be so close to your family.” When Ronnie talks about her family, her voice takes on a different timbre; almost nostalgic.

“Yeah, I am. Sometimes they can be frustrating, but I wouldn’t be who I am without them.” She looks up at me. “What about you? Do you see your family much?”

“I’m an orphan,” I say, gently. Her face crumples. “No, it’s okay—don’t feel bad. It was some time ago now, and in truth I’ve thrown myself into my work since my parents died. It’s been okay, although of course I miss them.”

“I…oh, that’s terrible. I’m sorry to bring it up.”

“No, honestly, it’s fine. Everyone has to find out sometime. Besides,” I wave a hand, “I get taken into other people’s families as a result; believe me, navigating Christmas dinner invitations from the team can be difficult. I’m really very lucky.”

Ronnie nods her head. “Yeah, last night Billy was telling me all about how you come and visit the kids. That’s very kind of you.”

“Anyone would do the same in my position, I think.” I shrug. “Also, being nice to people’s families helps make it easier when I’m asking them to work late, just like we’re doing now. Buying you dinner, for instance—it’s the least I can do.”

“Well, it’s not very salubrious, but it’s the best dinner invitation I’ve had since I left college.” She rises smoothly to her feet, does a little tippity-tap dance in her heels, and bows. “So, thank you, sir.”

I act mock-surprised. “You’re kidding me? The glamorous Ronnie Haas, and the best you can get is research and takeout noodles on a Thursday night? I don’t believe it.”

“Don’t you start. You sound like my mother now.” She narrows her eyes at me.

“Your mother sounds like a very smart lady. From that I take it that she wants you to get out and socialize a bit more, as well as working.”

Ronnie sighs, and pushes her empty noodle box away from her. “Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes not. She certainly wants me to be a grownup, whatever that means.”

“Sounds dreadful.” I make a face. “I’ve been trying to avoid being a grownup for years now, and I think I’m really getting the hang of it, finally.”

“Well, you certainly do pretty well from what I’ve seen.” Ronnie pokes her tongue out at me, and the gesture is so pretty, I can’t help smiling.

“Thank you, thank you. Years of practice, believe me.”

“Do you want to do something else?”

I shake my head. “No, this is it. I can do this—we can do this. Taking on the system, and winning at it. Winning the game, that’s the thing. Playing this game to win is the best feeling in the world, Ronnie, it really is. When we pull this deal off, you’ll see just what I mean.”

“Tom, I know you mean that, but don’t you ever think about how this work affects other people?”

I start to say something, but Ronnie holds up her hands, eyes fixed on me. “I know, I know, I’m not going to start lecturing you, and that’s not what I mean. It’s just that…I don’t know. You say that you admire what I’m saying, right?”

“I do.”

“Then you need to think about how all of our actions have consequences. If we end up hurting people through what we’re doing, shouldn’t we at least think about that? You said that with authority comes responsibility, right?”

“Sure, I did, but I didn’t mean—” I sigh. “Ronnie, these people, these investors are adults. They understand the risks of what they’re doing. We’re not in the business of protecting people from their own decisions, and we couldn’t even if we wanted to be.” As I speak, I get another image of Philip and his mom, going home in the dark, and for the first time I don’t sound as sure as I used to be.

She sighs. “I get that. But it doesn’t make the idea of doing something that we know is going to make a lot of people lose a lot of money any easier, does it?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. But they have every chance of making it back on another investment. It’s all a game, Ronnie - you know that, and I know that. People act like it’s so important, but the whole reason I do what I do is to win. It’s cliché, but money really is just a way of keeping score.”

The noodle boxes are empty now, and she leans across the table towards me. “Then why does it have to be this way? If we’re all so smart, can’t we do something which will make everyone’s lives better? Isn’t that a better challenge?”

Looking at her eyes, bright blue and shining with certainty, I try hard to concentrate on what she’s saying.

“I suppose it would be a better challenge, if we could do it.” I stop for a moment. “There’s no doubt that cutting down on collateral damage from this deal would help our PR situation. After the financial crisis, nobody really likes the idea of rapacious financial traders any more.”

Ronnie grabs one of the research papers on the desk. “Okay. Then let’s find a way to do something that lets us make a positive difference in future. I’ll read all this research and more if it means we’ll get a chance to do that.”

I smile. “Okay, Ronnie. I know you care about this. Let’s look again at the deal, and try to find a way to reduce the fallout from it. I’m not going to promise anything, but let’s see what we can do.”

She smiles back, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen for weeks. “Okay, Tom. I knew this dinner invitation was going to work out well.” Our faces are inches apart, and I’m suddenly aware of her perfume, and the way her hair frames her face, light gold strands falling straight down. Her lips part for a second, and I see her tongue peep out between her teeth. I’m transfixed there, stuck looking at the shape of her lips, and the quirk at the corners of her mouth.

Finally, she speaks. “I…was that a moment?”

“Mmm…I don’t know what you would call that.” I reach forward and trace the line of her jaw with one finger, so sharp and fine you could almost cut yourself on it. My hand moves from her cheekbone down, slowly along her cheek, to the point of her chin.

“Tom, we should…” My finger on her lips.

We should not be doing this, that’s for sure.

I look at her eyes, clear and blue and fierce, and slowly move my finger back to her chin. Gently, very gently, I draw her chin up. Her lips touch mine, and suddenly it’s happened.

Our first kiss is very soft indeed, almost a brush, and I savor it for some time. She moves into me, pushing just a little harder, tongue between her teeth again, and I let her come forward. Her hand comes up over my shoulder, drawing me toward her.

We should definitely not be doing this.

I pull away from her, and look at her. She’s slightly flushed, and opens her mouth to say something, but before she does, I kiss her again, harder this time, and it’s like flicking a switch. She reaches forward over the desk and takes my head in her hands, and kisses me back. Her lips taste like strawberries, and I can feel her breath between her teeth as we kiss, once, again, again.

She breaks off, gasping, and lets go of me. I hold on to her shoulders, suddenly unwilling to let her go.

“Tom, I’m sorry, I…wow.”

I come around her side of the desk, close to her. I can feel her body against me, inches away. “Wow, indeed.”

We look at each other for a moment, and Ronnie glances to the papers on the desk.

“Do you think we should file those? I mean, we made notes on—” I take hold of her, and kiss her again, firmly.

Finally, I get to have my arms around her, and it’s just as good as I’d imagined.

She wraps her arms around my neck, and pushes herself into me, hungry. I kiss her again, and again, almost feverish.

“Mmmph..God, Tom..” I back towards the desk, and sit on the edge, drawing her back onto me. My knee goes between her legs, and I feel her grinding against me.

How the hell did this happen? Last thing I remember we were talking about work, and…

One hand is still around her shoulders, keeping her lips locked on mine, and the other reaches down and slides her skirt up. Ronnie moans and pushes herself on top of me, making me lean back on the desk. She’s on top of me now, astride me, and she must be able to feel how aroused I am.

“Goddammit, Tom Macaulay.” There’s that beautiful lopsided smile again. I could look at that smile for days. “How did you make this happen?”

Grinning, I lie back and put my hands behind my head, savoring the sight of her astride me. “Call it a skill.”

“So, convincing your employees to make out with you on your desk is a—ohh—skill, huh?” She tries to sound severe, and I push my hips up into her, making her gasp momentarily.

“Well, it’s kind of a niche one. Billy Flynn, for instance, not so much. If he was in the position you’re currently in, he’d squash me flat.”

Ronnie’s peal of laughter is a beautiful sound, carefree and full of life. “I can imagine so. Billy aside, I don’t even want to think about how many people you’ve done this to on your desk.”

“Actually, Ronnie, you are the first, and that’s a promise.”

“Really?” She cocks an eyebrow. “The handsome Tom Macaulay, never taken advantage of a girl on his desk before?”

I frown. “Taken advantage? Might I remind you, Ms. Haas, that I am currently pinned helpless to my desk by a crazy blond girl who’s on top of me? Who, precisely, is taking advantage of whom in this situation? I should call security.”

She grins. “They’d never get here in time to save you.” Leaning down, she pushes her tongue into my mouth, and I savor the taste of her again. I hear noises from the door, but I’m too distracted to care.

“Hello, is there anyone in—oh. Uh, sorry, sir.” Uh-oh. Another voice from the door. I should have seen this coming. On top of me, Ronnie sits bolt upright, and twists around; I have to grab her waist to keep her from falling, which presses her delightfully against me. Now is not the time, Macaulay.

We both look up, and I feel Ronnie stiffen against me.

Whoops. Turns out security was already here.