I knock on the large wood-paneled door. No answer.

I knock again, louder this time. Still no answer. I can hear a murmur of voices inside, so I assume they just didn’t hear the door. I place my hand on it, and turn it as gently as I can. My best friend in college was always really good at sneaking into places without being seen, and now I really wish I’d gotten her to teach me how to do it. Very slowly, I push the door open, and stick my head through.

In the room, I see a large group of screens, surrounding a conference table. It’s a video-conference, and the screens each have a face on them, a bunch of old guys in suits. They look like a retired men’s chorus, or the sort of wealthy-but-trustworthy types you’d hire to advertise an investment opportunity.

Seated at the table is Mr. Hot But Not A Salesman himself, Tom Macaulay, head of the quantitative division. I needn’t have bothered with all the subterfuge, because everyone ignores me sticking my head through the door. Tom is talking, and doesn’t even notice me. His jacket is off, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up, showing off his arms. I take a moment to admire the way he looks before I get seen.

* * *

“Look, just as Doug says, the implications of this proposal are profound. If we can pull off this bond issue successfully, we will cement our status as market leaders, and it will further drive clients in our direction. The subsequent business from this will be worth—”

One of the suits interrupts. “Tom, we’re convinced about the benefits if it’s successful. What we’re less sanguine about is what happens to the firm if it fails. We’d be eaten for breakfast; the market would roll over the top of us.”

Tom raises a finger. I stay quiet, wondering whether to say anything to announce my presence.

“Believe me, guys, I’m well aware of that.” He looks around the bank of cameras and screens. “I do need time to research this deal, and I made it very clear to Bob that we aren’t going ahead with anything unilaterally.”

What the hell should I do? Should I interrupt?

* * *

“Tom, if you want us to support this, you’re going to need to demonstrate that you’ve got the right team on board to pull it off. We’ve got a lot of faith in you, and you’ve earned it, but this is a hell of a risk.”

I cough as discreetly as I can. Tom looks around and sees me. His eyes light up, and he breaks into a smile. I have to take a deep breath. Damn, he looks good like that.

“Veron—uh, Ms. Haas! Please, come and sit down.” He beckons to me, quickly. I take another step into the room and shut the door behind me. What the hell have I gotten myself into here?

“Gentlemen, this is the newest member of my team, Ronnie Haas, on temporary assignment from the trainee program. Ronnie, this is the Board of Directors of Walters Capital.”

Across the screens, six pairs of eyes swivel in my direction. Uh-oh.

Tom seems inexplicably pleased to have me here. I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to say something or not at this point, but I take the safe option and just smile and nod.

Tom continues. “Ronnie has particular experience in contrarian algorithmic approaches, and she’s distinguished herself by her performance so far in the training program.” Have I? Oh, great.

One of the faces, this one with a beard, speaks up. “Good afternoon, Ms. Haas. Perhaps you could summarize for the board the experience you bring to the team. As I’m sure you’re aware, the program of activity Tom has proposed is an extraordinarily aggressive one, and we’re going to need all the expertise we can get.”

Wild-eyed, I look at Tom. Evidently he’s begun to realize how little I know about what the hell’s going on here, and jumps in.

“Ronnie has just joined the team, so it’ll be at least twenty-four hours before she’ll be up to speed. Until then, I wouldn’t want to take up your time. She’ll give a full presentation very soon, though.” I will? What the hell on?

I try to look as intelligent as possible while saying nothing at all. After a moment, the bearded face speaks. “Okay, Tom. Will you excuse us for a minute, please?” Without waiting for a response, all six of the screens cut out. As soon as they do, I round on Tom.

“Look, Dr. Macaulay—” He holds up a hand, smiling.

“Please, call me Tom.” I’m undeterred.

“Look, Tom, am I even supposed to be here? I got a call that I needed to be here for this meeting, and—” Imperceptibly he puts a finger to his lips, and a second later, the screens cut back in.

“Okay, Tom.” It’s the bearded face again. “You’ve got your go-ahead. The board will support your proposal; you and Ms. Haas,” all six faces look directly at me “have authority to use whatever resources you need to go ahead with this deal. We will have to make some cuts in other areas, but that’s not a major issue.”

Tom beams. “Great. I’m glad we’re all on board. We’ll get underway with the research immediately.”

One of the other faces speaks. “Let’s be clear, Tom; we’re putting a great deal of trust in you and your team by letting you do this. Most boards would veto this immediately as too risky. You do know that, don’t you?”

“I know, Doug, I know. Don’t think I wouldn’t have proposed this if I wasn’t confident we could at least investigate it.” He gestures at me with his left hand. “Ronnie and the team are on it as we speak, and we’ll have a feasibility study with hard data done by the end of next week.”

Next to Tom, I resist the urge to poke him hard in the ribs—I hardly know the man—but my head is spinning. What the hell is he doing? Instead, the faces flick to me for confirmation, and I just smile as blandly as I can.

“Alright, Tom. We’re done for the moment. Keep us appraised of the situation.” The screens flick off, and Tom exhales a long breath. For a moment, there’s silence between us, and then he looks at me carefully.

* * *

“Thanks. You did well there.”

I have no idea what to say. “Uh, thanks. I guess.”

He continues, hands forward on his knees in a gesture of conciliation. “Look, I know this must be confusing to you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t have time to explain to you what was going on before this meeting, but—”

He must have seen my eyes, swiveling wildly, and he holds up his hands. “Yes, I agree; I should have spoken to you before bringing your name up. I had assumed that you’d want to be involved, and that was an unfair assumption. Make no mistake, Ronnie, this is the kind of deal that can make careers or break them.”

At this point I finally lose my temper. “Break careers? I don’t even HAVE a career! I’ve been in this job for one Goddamned week - if it’s even a job, which I’m really not sure - and now you drag me into something which could be the end of my career? What am I even doing here?” I wave my hand at the screens. “This board meeting, you’re planning some deal, right? What is it? How am I involved? What’s going on?”

He smiles broadly, which this time only infuriates me more. What’s so damn funny? “Ronnie, these are exactly the qualities I was looking for when I said I wanted you on the team. I need someone who isn’t afraid to speak out, someone with new ideas, and that’s you. Look, there’s a lot to explain and—”

I’m still annoyed. “You’re right there’s a lot to explain. Now you’ve given my name to these people, I’m involved whether I want to be or not, but I don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I understand, Ronnie, although you need to know that sometimes I have to make decisions for the good of the team, and I won’t always have time to explain them before I do. So sometimes you’re just going to have to trust me.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know you.” I thump my handbag down on the table, mostly because I want to work off some frustration at this point. “Look, I can’t work for you unless I understand what’s happening, okay?”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough. If I explain what’s going on to you in detail, and how I need your help to make it happen, will you agree to work with us for a week? Just a week. If you don’t want to go any further than that, fine.”

I look at him doubtfully, and he continues. “I’ll go back to Barbara, tell her that you’ve done everything we need you to do, and that’ll be the end of it, I promise.”

I think for a minute. This is pretty risky, whatever the hell it is. Somehow this guy doesn’t strike me as being someone who plays it safe.

Momma is always telling me to be responsible.

On the other hand, whatever he’s going, it’s going to be exciting, and I never could resist a challenge. “Okay, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I still don’t know what, considering I’m only a trainee, but you’re the expert; you tell me.”

Tom stands up, beaming, and puts out a hand. “Great! Welcome to the team, Ms. Haas.” He winks at me, and I try not to laugh. “You’re going to enjoy the ride, I promise.”

I take his hand, and shake it, slowly. I’m still frustrated, but I’m suddenly very aware of how close he is to me. Even though it’s a formal gesture, the touch of his skin on mine is immediately electric.

“Thanks. I’m sure I will.” I hold on to his hand. “Enjoy the ride, that is.” There’s a pause, and we look at each other. His eyes are on mine, and it’s very quiet.

A little voice in my head screams what are you doing? This guy is your boss! Let go of his hand! and I do, just in time to avoid embarrassing myself. “I should, uh, go.” I stand up slightly too quickly, and hurry to the door.

* * *

As I’m in the elevator down from the twelfth floor, the door dings open. A couple of trainees get in, holding their briefcases and shoulder bags in their arms. I don’t remember their names, but they were front-row guys. They look miserable, like someone just made their favorite Pokemon faint or something.

“Hey, guys. What’s up?” I try to sound as bright and cheery as I can. One of them shuffles his feet.

“We’ve been cut from the trainee program. Don’t know why. Got an email just saying the program was being restructured.” The other one nods dolefully.

“We didn’t even get to take an exam.”

The door dings open again, and two more trainees get in, this time a girl—Carol? maybe—and a guy. The look on their faces leaves all of us in little doubt about what’s happened to them. They look at all of us, and nod slowly.

“You too, huh?”

“Yep.” Carol looks at me. “Jeez, Ronnie, I’m surprised you got the chop. I thought when you got pulled out of lectures you were heading straight for the big time.” I don’t say anything.

One of the other guys coughs. “I—I heard it was because of some big deal that just went down on the twelfth floor. Some new initiative Tom Macaulay is running. Like, the firm’s focusing resources on that and so there’s no more room for trainees or something.”

“Macaulay, huh?” Carol looks disgusted. “I bet those guys like him up on twelve don’t even know we exist. We got told we’re the lowest of the low, right? Something like this happens, we get flushed down the pan without a second thought.”

Is this to do with me? The elevator doors open, and I decide to beat a retreat. “Guys, this is my floor. Sorry to hear this happened, huh? Catch you round.” A chorus of goodbyes follow me as I hurry away from the elevator. I have no idea what floor I’m on, but I keep walking until I’m out of sight, and then stop, looking at my hands.

What have I gotten myself into?