Free The I.T. Girl by Fiona Pearse Page A

so bohemian like you ...’
    Hands came up from behind, over my breasts.
    ‘Hi,’ Ben said as I turned around to his mouth. I giggled while
we kissed. He pushed me up against the wall.
    ‘Hey, cut it out.’ A sober voice commanded from the doorway.
    ‘Sorry,’ Ben muttered with a quick glance. ‘You want to go back
to my place?’
    ‘No. School night. Maybe some other
time though.’
    ‘I don’t know if I’ll want to some other time.’
    ‘Well leave then.’ I slapped his chest.
    We kissed again. His hand dropped down to my thigh, raising my
skirt.
    ‘Jesus, what are you, sixteen?’ I teased. ‘Take it easy.’ I raised
his hand but still gave in to his mouth. There was something to be said for a man
who’s most consistent relationship was with his gym, I thought, feeling muscle pressing
against my ribs. Suddenly he sucked my tongue roughly into his mouth. It hurt but
I couldn’t pull back. I tried pushing him away but only managed to force out a muffled
scream.
      ‘ Ow !
That hurt.’ My hand flew to my mouth as soon as I was released.
    ‘What?’ He held up his hands.
    ‘I’m going.’ I pushed him away.
    ‘What the fuck?’
    ‘Leave me alone.’ I escaped the cloakroom without finding my
jacket.
    Outside in the air, sobriety found me. I remembered my new route
home and realised it would be an hour before my head hit the pillow. I began walking,
listening to the click-clack of my shoes and the occasional sound of mock arguments
and laughter. The early morning air had brought a chill.

 
    Boris came to my cube the following morning, and looking over
my head, said conspiratorially, ‘I’ve booked a room.’
    I followed him along the floor with a pounding head. His hair
looked like a manic bird dance but his face was heavy with tiredness. I noticed
a folder swinging from his hand. Our meeting rooms were glass panelled and ran along
one wing of the floor. The last room was for the head of department. Currently that
was Felix Stern. But there had been four heads in Boris’ six years.
    ‘Right. I’ve drawn up a plan of attack.
No, it’s not really. It’s just a list of things you are supposed to do.’ Boris placed
his folder between us when we sat down and flipped it open.
    ‘Requirements Analysis. Design. Flowcharts. Test plan. Outline
of any issues as early as possible. Specs to other departments. And that’s about it really.’ He tapped his pen on the open page. ‘We’ll have a meeting
about once a week, outside of our weekly team meeting, to see how we’re doing. They’re
called Buddy meetings.’
    ‘What?’ I winced, demanding an explanation.
    ‘It’s the name we give to a kind of mentoring relationship.’
    I stared at the different coloured separators, each representing
a step of the software life-cycle, with Boris’s vision in coloured bullet points.
‘So, this is how you want me to work on AsiaCap from now
on?’
    ‘ BelOpt .’
    ‘When will I get back to AsiaCap ?’
    ‘You won’t I’m afraid. Sam will be taking it over.’
    ‘What? Hang on, we discussed this at
my six month review. I said I wanted more development and you said I could get the AsiaCap project because it’s the only decent development
at the moment.’
    ‘Look Orla , AsiaCap is high-profile. BelOpt is low-profile. You want to stay
off the radar for a while.’
    ‘Fine. Whatever.’ I folded my arms for
the rest of the Buddy meeting and allowed myself to day-dream about my new job.
    I took a look at my new specs and immediately realised, as I
thought about moving forward, I would need to know more.
    I knocked on the soft wall of Boris’ cube and then waited with
my notebook page of questions while he was on the phone.
    ‘Okay. Thanks, mate. Cheers, Rob, mate.’
He hung up the phone.
    ‘Hey. Whatsup ?’ He pointed his fingers at me like a gun.
    ‘Are you alright?’
    ‘Just been headhunted again. Probably
won’t leave but it’s nice to know I’m wanted.’
    ‘Oh, shut up.’
    ‘Yes, well,