I came back to Cleveland on Saturday, two days ago, and spent all of yesterday getting my ducks in a row. I cleaned and made mental lists about the things I need to discuss with Holston about the event that now feels like it was ages ago.
It wasn’t. In reality, it’s only been ten days. Then again, I suppose that is an eternity in the world of PR.
The usual Monday buzz surrounds me. Phones ring, keyboards click, and the coffee machine hisses like it’s personally offended. Down, boy. Everything feels normal.
Which is exactly what I need right now, what with the whole nearly getting murdered thing I’m still not thinking about. At all. Look at me, compartmentalizing like a boss.
“Morning, Raven,” chirps the receptionist as I pass. I flash her my thousand-watt smile, the one that says I’m totally fine.
“Morning, sunshine. Looking fabulous today.” I throw her two finger guns and toss my hair over my shoulder, channeling my inner Disney princess, the kind that’s too stupid to be traumatized.
When someone bumps into me, my mind flickers. Hands on my throat, brick against my back, Matteo appearing like some avenging demon with a knife… nope.
Mental pin right there.Not today, Satan.
I strut down the hallway, heels clicking against the floor, nodding at colleagues who are still buzzing about the event. Huh, I would have thought that buzz had died down by now.
My desk is exactly as I left it; a place where organized chaos reigns supreme and I’m the monarch in charge. I toss my bag down and immediately check my phone.
There’s a text waiting from Leo who still doesn’t know the point of knock-knock jokes.
Bad twin: Knock, knock… what did the pineapple say to the frog?
I send back a text sleeve of middle fingers. Then I think better of it and send a second text.
Me: That made no sense. You’re lucky you’re pretty.
Bad twin: You mean we’re lucky we’re pretty.
The morning passes in a blur of emails, calls, and me aggressively not thinking about… things. Yep, I’m completely thoughtless and happy.
Mental pin: Do not question my happiness.
I’m good at this part, the work part. It’s like slipping into a perfectly tailored dress where everything fits and nothing pinches. PR is just manipulation dressed up as communication. It’s a fascinating balance that I’m addicted to.
There are still ten emails left for me to answer, all of which are from North Coast Effects. I quickly skim their website before replying, letting them know I’d be happy to set up a meeting this week.
“There you are.” Sue from accounting beams as she walks by my desk. “I wanted to congratulate you on the event, Raven. It was all everyone could talk about last week. Even us number people love you because of the way you cut through margins and still came out winning.”
Mental pin: The image of Matteo’s knife.Ugh, pin that shit harder.
“Raven,” my boss’ assistant calls across the office just as the lunch hour hits. “Everyone’s gathering on the main floor. Holston wants you there.”
I swallow hard, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from my bright red dress. “Am I in trouble? Did someone die at the hotel and I missed the memo?”
She laughs like I’m joking. I laugh too, even though it wasn’t actually a joke. Corpses have a way of ruining quarterly projections.
The main floor is our showpiece—all glass and chrome and strategic lighting designed to make clients feel both impressed and slightly insecure. It’s where we bring the big fish, the ones worth wining and dining.
When I walk in, the room erupts in applause.
Holston stands at the center, offering a measured smile and a few deliberate claps, his silver hair perfectly in place as always. Behind him, the PR team forms a semicircle, grinning like they’ve just been promised bonuses.
“There she is,” Holston says, his voice carrying over the applause—measured, but full of pride. Maybe a touch too loud, like a man trying to project confidence in front of the wrong audience. “The woman who kept the Parkview account and managed to land us three new clients in one night.”
More applause. More cheering.
“Take a bow, Raven,” Holston urges with a small chuckle, clearly enjoying the show but trying not to overplay it.
