You Have Been Disconnected
by Rida Allen
Read an Excerpt!
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From: Roger Gant <rgant@centreseating.com>
The groans came almost immediately from around the software programmers’ bullpen. “Is he joking?” someone called. “We’ve been working on that damn project for months!” another programmer moaned. “Hey, I’m glad to be rid of the thing. I haven’t slept in months!” a third person yelled back. Matt hunched his shoulders over his desk, trying to make himself invisible. It wasn’t that he disliked working with Phil, it was that the Maritas project was such a pain in the ass that none of them wanted to volunteer. “Okay, draw straws, guys,” the senior programmer called. More groans. Matt stared intently at his computer monitor, hoping that they’d forget about him. He always lost when they picked straws. “You, too, Matt,” his coworker Greg, who sat next to him, poked his arm. Sighing, Matt swivelled his chair around and snatched a straw. Dammit. “Dammit,” he repeated out loud. “Don’t worry, buddy, you’ll have a great time working with Fink,” Greg said, punching him in the arm when he saw the tiny piece of straw that Matt was left holding. “The Fink-man, the Fink-meister, the Fink-inator.” “It isn’t Fink that’s the problem.” It was going to take months to get that stupid Maritas project fixed. He only hoped they could do so without him flying into a murderous rage. Turning away from his coworkers, he responded to their boss’ email.
Grumbling, he sent the email to his friend Roger, knowing that the guy would get a good laugh at Matt’s expense. It was a short time later when he received his reply.
Fix everything his ass! There was no way Fink was going to be able to just fix this stupid software. He knew that the guy was a good programmer, but he’d have to be able to work miracles to fix this shit. He had worked with Fink many times over the past five years and he was a good guy, wrote a mean line of code and was highly efficient...but he had yet to meet the Maritas project. And even though Roger had requested someone from each of the R&D groups to stay on the project, the other two groups had little involvement in the actual programming portion. They would gather together all the original notes and information, pass them along to Fink and make themselves available for Q&A. But beyond that, it was up to him to help good old Fink work his way through the code. He shuddered, noted in the next email from Roger who was ‘volunteering’ from Lifecycle and Design, then opened an email message to Fink.
He sent the email off and then started the next one to his coworkers in Lifecycle and Design. While he was writing to Cara and John, a new message came in and he paused to see who it was from. It was Fink’s response to the Maritas project email, so he stopped to read it.
The man had lost his mind. Actually, it was more likely he hadn’t taken a look at the software yet. He expected to receive another message once Fink had the opportunity to review the software in its present form versus what Maritas had requested. It was two days later when Matt received an instant message from Fink.
Matt held his fingers up to his temple and made a shooting motion with his thumb.
Four weeks later, the software that Matt’s entire group had been working on for seven months was completed. And truthfully, Fink had done most of the coding himself, with just minor input from Matt. When Maritas requested only one small change to the software, Matt knew that it was Fink who was going to be the one to help him get his idea off the ground.
Chapter One There was no easy way to explain why everyone she worked with thought she was a man. It wasn’t that she was manly looking...in fact, far from it. She had big boobs, wide hips and, to put it nicely, pleasantly plump thighs. Let’s not even discuss the rear end she was dragging around. In addition, the curly mop of strawberry blond hair that she was forever pushing out of her round face was also a clue to her gender. But no, the people she worked with on a daily basis thought she was good old reliable Phil Fink. There was a reason for the name...Phil had come about accidently after she found out that they had been assuming for almost a year that she was a man. Fink came about because, well, it was her last name. And for the past nine years, she’d been running her own firm, Philanthropy Designs, where she worked wonders with her computer in relation to design, software programming and internet applications. And for those same nine years she’d been able to work from home, not once gracing the buildings of her most influential clients. Some assumed that Phil Fink had a severe phobia about flying, others suggested that it was a fear of making a formal presentation, and still others considered the thought that Phil Fink was too nerdy for the general public...and the list went on. But no matter, she was well respected in her field and now clients came to her begging for her help. She wasn’t sure, but she thought part of her success was because people thought she was a man. While it was a changing field, the computer industry was still mostly male-dominated and you had to continuously prove yourself if you were a woman wanting to make it. It was easy to continue the charade of being Phil Fink. She communicated only by email and instant messenger, sending files and sharing brainstorming sessions via her high speed digital connection. And when presentation time came around, there was always someone on the client’s side who wanted to get ahead by making the presentation on their own. But by this time, all of her clients knew where the ideas, the know-how and the final product had come from. Phil Fink. And so she had been floating along in her career, not a bump in the road, until now. Now, her biggest client, Centre Seating, wanted her to work directly with one of their software programmers to get a hot new piece of software working. She’d worked with Matt Collins before...he was a good guy with grandiose ideas but he often lacked the ability to put them into play. He was also easy to work with because he knew his limits and took critique easily. But work with him in person? No way! Anything they could do in person, they could do separated by hundreds of miles and clear-cut anonymity. Dink. She looked up from her notepad where she’d been scribbling dirty words in response to Centre Seating’s request. Her email software had just informed her that she had new messages. She wasn’t surprised to see that one message was from the very man who had started this whole fiasco.
She sucked in a breath at that point. A couple of weeks? Was he kidding?
Matt waited impatiently for Fink’s response. Dammit, he didn’t give a snap who this guy was or what lifestyle he lived! He didn’t care if the guy was the biggest nerd anyone had ever seen, or if he lived in some hole and ate cold pizza for breakfast and pop tarts for dinner. This was his career they were talking about! No one had ever requested to work with Fink face to face, mostly because they knew from the beginning that he would say ‘no’. Everyone at Centre Seating had discussed this guy up and down, wondering why from the beginning he had only been known as Fink in all his correspondence. It was after they’d been working with Fink for almost a year that someone had dared ask if they could call him something other than ‘Fink’. Even human resources only knew Fink as his company name...Philanthropy Designs. And to his knowledge, no one had dared to ask where the company name had come from. Well hell, if Fink actually agreed to this crazy deal, and Matt was going to make sure he did, then he was going to find out where Philanthropy Designs had come from. He would come back the office hero with not just the best piece of software ever designed and written, but he would come back with face to face knowledge of the infamous Phil Fink. He jumped when his email software notified him in a gentle female voice that he had new mail. God he loved that voice...it reminded him of his first lover in high school, a sexy redhead who was all boobs and legs. Sending up a silent prayer, he clicked open the response from Pfink@philanthropydesigns.com. Cursing under his breath, he opened his chat software and searched his list for ‘PFinkPD’. Double clicking on the name, he opened a chat window and began typing.
She couldn’t believe she’d typed that. Dropping her head into her hands, she moaned and prayed that Matt didn’t pass that little remark on to his boss. No matter what, Centre Seating was still her biggest client.
She felt like she was going to hyperventilate. It was possible for him to find out her address without asking her, even though she went to great lengths to keep it private. Even her clients’ accounting departments only had her post office box on file, but still...
Matt cursed again and pushed his hand through his hair. Phil Fink was right.
Swearing, Phil typed in a series of commands, then studied the results. It took her only a minute to send the modified file off to Matt, but she knew what his response was going to be. It was the same response she’d been getting for the past seven days...it wasn’t what he wanted. Dink. She was swearing before she even opened the email.
Dammit. It was Friday afternoon and they’d been working on this stupid piece of software for what seemed like an endless number of hours. And no matter what she did, it wasn’t right! She was beginning to think that Matt was purposefully throwing her off so he could follow through with his threat. When she didn’t respond to his email, Matt sent her an instant message.
Matt logged off before Phil could launch any further verbal assaults on him. He was actually looking forward to seeing Phil Fink work in person. He respected the man and his abilities and wanted to see him work his magic in real life. He was also looking forward to being the office hero as he expected to bring back a shitload of juicy Fink gossip. Grinning, he pushed away from his desk, grabbed his suit jacket and left the office.
Phil really did consider leaving the country as she spent her entire weekend cleaning her condo. She also spent time cursing her decision to keep her office in her home instead of removing her business from her everyday life. But really, working from home was life at its best, especially since no one ever saw her. She had no receptionist, no assistant, no accounting department and no boss. No one saw her bad hair days, or the zits that burst out during that time of the month. There was no one to complain when she worked sporadically throughout the day, sometimes in her pajamas, other times in only her underwear. And most of all, there was no one to know she was Phyllis Fink and not good old nerdy-guy Phil Fink. “Dammit, dammit, dammit.” She knelt in front of her couch and checked underneath it to make sure that there was no clothing lost under there. It wasn’t that she was a slob, it was that work was her life and she seldom took time to clean properly. Once every two weeks someone came in and did the heavy cleaning but the kind Jamaican woman wasn’t due in until the end of next week. Once she had pronounced the area under the sofa clear, she swept up the clothing she had found under or on top of other living room furniture and carried it off to the laundry room. She wondered what Matt Collins would think of her condo...and her workspace. It was a far cry from the everyday condo considering it was in a remodeled warehouse. From the outside, the place looked exactly like a warehouse, but inside there were four condos, hers being on the top level. It had cost her a small fortune, but she wanted the top floor so that she could have a two level apartment. In doing so, she was able to put her office in the loft area over one side of the main living areas, and her bedroom and bathroom over the right side of the living areas. The loft was visible and open to the living areas, the bedroom was not. And despite the fact that the outside of the building looked like a warehouse, the inside looked liked an upscale luxury apartment with a lovely curved staircase to the loft, a country kitchen and breakfast nook, huge windows in her living room and a very private hot tub and sauna. It hadn’t been easy to afford this place and to revamp it to fit her needs, but thanks to a dear uncle who had left her a small sum after his death, she’d been able to do it. After spending a year in a rental apartment while she was starting up her business, she was glad to have a place of her own to live and to thrive. She was safe and secure in this hideaway, that no one from the outside would ever suspect housed several homes. With a grunt, she shut the door to the laundry room and made her way upstairs to her bedroom. Did she even have anything to wear while Matt was here? She was used to dressing casually...was that appropriate with a business associate, especially since her office was in her home? Throwing open her closet, she plowed through it to see what she had, and what might still fit. And first impressions were most important...should she go out and buy a business suit so that when she greeted him on Monday she looked professional? Or would that set a bad precedent? What in the hell was she thinking? There was no way the first impression was going to be a good one. Matt was expecting Phil Fink, the nerd with tape on his glasses and a pocket protector in his stained button down shirt. She knew the things they said about Phil at her clients’ offices...she was no dummy. Could she trust Matt to keep Phil’s secret? She flopped back onto her bed, wishing she could contact Matt right now and tell him to stay the hell away from Phil Fink!
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