‘But the client wants something more,’ Jennifer insists. ‘Something that can be used in real time.’
‘Like what?’ Ariana asks.
I try to keep up, my pen racing across the page. I know this isn’t why I’m in the room but I do have an idea – a good one, actually, if I do say so myself. I’ve had it for a while, and it would fit perfectly within the Redflags app. But I’m not sure if now’s the time.
‘Perhaps we could add in a quick search?’ Steve suggests. ‘A dedicated page where people can drop in information in real time, about the people they’re out with, and see if anything flags.’
‘Quick-flags,’ Jennifer says, suggesting a name. ‘I like it.’
I hesitate, but the idea is bubbling up inside me, and if I don’t say it now then when will I get the chance?
I clear my throat.
‘I know that when I’m on dates, and I’m not feeling safe, I would feel better if I had a quick tool to use,’ I say.
‘Well, no one has been on more dates than Lana,’ Molly jokes – probably wanting to get everyone laughing at me, not with me.
I shoot her a glance, then turn to Steve, who is frowning – so that’s two people I’m probably not going to have on my side.
‘What women really need is a quick and easy way to get out of situations,’ I continue, undeterred.
‘Okay, Lana, thanks,’ Kelsey says, already dismissing me.
But Jennifer, surprisingly, seems intrigued.
‘No, it’s okay, let her finish,’ she says.
I swallow hard, feeling the eyes of the room on me.
‘Sometimes you just get a bad feeling, or you know you need to get out of there, or you’re just not feeling the date,’ I explain. ‘And in situations like that, what you need is an out. Making a big fuss, saying you want to leave – it doesn’t always feel like an option, and sometimes it doesn’t feel safe to say you’re not interested. But a quick, easy, non-confrontational out is perfect. It gets you out of a situation without putting yourself at risk.’
Jennifer tilts her head curiously.
‘So, what’s that?’ she asks.
‘A shortcut button, that looks like something else – like a cycle-tracking app or something – on the home screen that you can press,’ I explain. ‘After a short countdown, it will give you an automated text or a fake call, to look like it’s from your mum or whoever you want, saying there’s been an emergency and you need to come quick.’
Jennifer’s eyes narrow slightly.
‘And you would utilise something like that?’ she checks.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ I reply, my voice firm. ‘I would use it to get out of all sorts.’
She pauses for a moment, and I feel a flicker of hope – until her mouth twists into a smirk.
‘Well, as ideas go, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,’ she tells me. ‘So I would stick to taking notes if I were you.’
My face burns, and I sink into my seat, focusing on the notepad in front of me. The rest of the meeting blurs together as I mechanically jot down notes, alternating between feeling furious that she dismissed me and embarrassed that I tried to get out of my lane.
When the meeting finally ends, I shuffle out, planning to take an early lunch so I can go and seethe somewhere. But of course, Steve calls after me.
‘Lana, Lana!’
I turn around to see what he wants.
‘Yeah?’ I reply.
‘I meant to ask you earlier – did you empty the dryer?’ he asks, his tone casual.
