"God DAMN IT."
I crushed my empty red bull can into my desk and flung it against the brick wall next to me.
"Hey. Rae." Jude's voice was smooth and calming. "Fuck it, we'll get it, don't flip out."
"It's the same god damn exception that I had this morning." I gestured towards the screen. "Null Pointer Exception. It shouldn't be null! There's no reason for it..." I took off my glasses and buried my head in my hands.
Yes, a bit dramatic for work, I am aware. But in these circumstances - 80 hour weeks before deadline and ridiculous amounts of pressure - made my usually professional exterior completely buckle. At this point in the day the sun was beginning to set over the office building, reminding me I was running out of time. You could see the dust particles floating in the air. It was eerily quiet. Our software startup just opened their second location, and the rest of the building wasn't quite leased yet. Exposed air ducts traversed the ceilings, and through the windows of our suite, it was all darkness, particle boards, and discarded power tools. In our office there were two long rows of tables, littered with monitors, keyboards, Star Wars figurines, rubber duckies and other random nerd paraphernalia.
Everyone else had gone for the day, and it was just me and Jude, the cofounder of the company, left in the office, furiously programming. The company's best-paying client was unfortunately the most demanding one - and our deadline was in the morning. Jude and I usually sat with our backs to each other when we worked, but my outburst made him whip suddenly around.
Jude rolled his chair over to my desk and delicately moved aside the graveyard of red bulls and stress-eaten candy wrappers. Unlike me, he had been doing this a long time and never seemed to lose his cool. He reached his arm over mine, our skin lightly touching, as he reached for my mouse.
"Can I drive?"
I nodded and moved over slightly, but not enough to give him the usual amount of pair programming space. My frustration made me need to be close to someone, and the room was just cold enough where I wished I was wearing a sweater. Jude didn't seem to mind...leaned into it even as he deftly searched through my config directory.
Shit, he smelled nice. Like sandalwood.
His eyes narrowed. "This all seems right." He quickly shifted over to my open code editor, and then smiled. "Beautiful methods," he said. "Concise. Much better than they deserve."
I blushed a little. "Thanks."
He started making adjustments, compiling, and testing. But the thing about this code was that it was an ancient monolith - Java that had been written about ten years ago. Ten years ago, I was in high school, blissfully unaware of the horrible trap those developers were laying for me in the future.
I had never really spent time with Jude. My hiring was handled by the overly-enthusiastic HR lady who kept talking about "diversifying the engineering team." I mean, I get it. I was the only female in a development team of 40 men. But I don't like to be constantly reminded of it.
Jude was usually out of town. As the cofounder of our company, he was typically traveling to be onsite with our consulting clients. Jude was taller than average, with vaguely wavy and short black hair, and piercing brown-black eyes to match. The few times I had seen him, he was leaned into his computer screen, always with horrible posture, stroking his black stubble. His skin had a dark tint, with the barest hint of a birthmark on his cheek. I wondered what kind of ethnic background comprised a man as startlingly attractive as Jude.
He didn't speak often - he was the introverted half of the founding team of our software consulting company. James, the sandy-haired, blue-eyed man who signed on new clients, was the charismatic one. James was the energy; Jude was the brains. Both were in their early forties and extremely successful, and to be honest I was too intimidated to approach either of them, even if it was coffee in the break room.
The only thing I really knew about Jude is that he was online at weird hours of the night. As I logged on at 2am, 3am, frantically waking up and realizing I knew the answer to a problem, the only other person that was still in the slack chat room was Jude. All of the other names on my team were dim, with "zzs" to show that they were offline. But night after night, Jude was always there. I could see his name, bolded, at the top, with the glowing green dot affixed to it.
I often wondered if he noticed that I was online too. Did he notice that I was awake? Did he feel the weird tension that I felt? Like the two of us, even though I was in my living room and he was wherever he was...we were up at the same time, alone, with that little slack channel to connect us. It was a tenuous, weird little cosmic space. How did it make him feel to share that space with me, in those quiet hours, while the rest of the world slept?
To be honest, it made me curious. But I don't know. He probably didn't even notice.
"Compiled! Let's give this a shot." We re-ran the code - I used the mouse, he used the keyboard. His leg was cocked a little backward, behind mine, as he leaned in to investigate, and our legs were about an inch away from touching. The code failed, again, and my stomach dropped as I saw the red errors pop into the logs. But then. Wait. For a split second as the stack dump scrolled by, I saw something off.
"Hang on, lemme look at something."
I pulled the keyboard in, pulled up the config files, and searched the entire directory for any instances of a double backslash. BOOM. There it was. In a file path, there was a fucking double backslash referencing the web content. That's why nothing was loading. Nevermind that everything else was set up perfectly, there were no friendly errors to guide us - this code was like a delicately balanced house of cards. One small thing and it all collapses.
Jude exhaled, with a slow whistle. "Nice catch."
I smiled, and dropped my whole body back into my seat in relief. "Ha. Thanks. But fuck. Whole day wasted...due to an extra backslash..."
He laughed. "Welcome to software, my dear."
The term of endearment felt out of place, like he let something slip. It hung in the air for a moment, tenuously.
He cleared his throat. "Ok. Let's get this shit in. And ship it."
"Let's do it. I have one last user story. It should be easy."
"Word," he said, "let me know if you need any help."
He moved back to his desk right behind me, and I zeroed in on my work. But I felt a sense of loss. I wanted to spend more time with him.
I still smelled just a hint of sandalwood lingering in the air.
-
It was late, around 1am, when I felt a warm pair of hands on my neck, massaging. Jude. I stiffened up for a second from the shock and then relaxed into the massage. Damn. He had strong hands, and it felt too good. I felt a lurch in my stomach as I processed the incredibly unprofessional nature of what was currently happening to me. His hands moved down to my shoulders, and his thumb became acquainted with a painful little pressure-filled node.
I moaned a little, involuntarily. Jude seemed to come to his senses and quickly pulled his hands back. I mourned the loss of them immediately.
"Sorry," he said, "Just seeing your posture made my shoulders hurt."
A heavy silence. "It's ok," I said breathlessly, "damn that felt good."
"Why don't you go home," Jude almost whispered. "It's late."
I sighed. Deeply. "I know." I looked back at my screen and work smacked me back in the face. "This should have been easy, but their legacy data structure is impossible to deal with. I ended up deciding to make a simpler one and map it over..."
Jude leaned down, his head above my shoulder, our cheeks very close. He peered at my screen and smiled. "Again, writing better code than they deserve." I flushed red. He reached over the mouse and began to click through my changes, murmuring softly as he did.
"Okay...okay yeah...what you're doing - that's a good idea actually... that will save time in the long run." Jude stood and stretched his arms behind his back. "Hey. Idea."
I stretched too and discovered I needed it - my muscles were cramped from barely moving for hours. "Yes?" I squeaked out at the end of my stretch.
"Come with me." He smiled gently, his black eyes flashing. "I mean, if you're free that is," and gestured dismissively around him and looked at the floor. "I have to be onsite in New Orleans in the morning for delivery, as you know. If you wanna come with me, I can be there to unblock you if you get stuck. And anyway. I'm sure the client will appreciate putting a face to the code. Especially after," he grimaced, "we have gone through quite a few faces with them."
It was true. Our original project team of five had dwindled to just me. The other four had fallen like dominos when the pressure from this client became too intense. But maybe this was it. After all of the sleepless nights and hard work, maybe this was the crucial moment in my career where I moved on up. I worked hard enough for it.
I deserved it, right? Jude was starting to look nervous as I thought it over.
"Well," I said softly, "When is the flight?"
"Five AM. Red-eye. Wanna come?" He lifted one eyebrow at me, almost shyly. "Obviously you don't have to, this is pure suggestion. I don't know what your outside-of-work commitments are."
I thought of my studio apartment and the plants that kept me company. I had an abysmal lack of a life outside of work. "None, honestly. I'd love to tag along." I bit my lip against my will - I was quickly becoming very attracted to Jude, and I couldn't deny the appeal of hopping on a plane with him and going somewhere alone.
He didn't answer. His gaze intensified instead. He was staring at my lip.
Maybe it was the hour. Maybe it was the fact that we were alone in this building, sharing it, just like we had been alone together online. But instead of a glowing green dot keeping me company he was a man. A tall, intelligent, and soft-spoken man with strong hands. And the sexual energy between us at this moment was as taut as a pulled rubber band - tight, so tight I could barely breathe.
I let out a shaky breath and broke his gaze. "Well, I should run home and pack then." I closed my macbook and stuffed it in my bag. "What time should I meet you there? How long are we staying?"
He seemed to shake himself a little and do the same...packing up his laptop into his faded leather bag. "It's a half-day meeting tomorrow afternoon, and we'll be there to oversee deployment afterwards and knock out anything mission critical the next day that might occur." Jude had relaxed, and was now smiling genuinely as we walked past the dusty, half-finished business suites and the construction equipment lying in the hallways. The parking lot was empty, illuminated by the moonlight. "Can I pick you up?" He held open the door out of the building. "Airport parking is a mess."
Usually such displays of chivalry made me uneasy. But not Jude. No, this turned me on. I had no idea why. Maybe it seemed more genuine? Maybe I just had a schoolgirl crush on my boss, so everything he did was perfect? Who the fuck knows.
"Yeah, you can pick me up. I'm pretty close to the airport actually - Villa apartments. I'll slack you my address."
We got to our cars, and funnily enough Jude was parked behind me, just like how we sat in the office. Time to part ways. He started to walk away and paused, looking back at me, before waving awkwardly. "Ok. Cool. I'll shoot you my cell."
