I roll my eyes at both the mention of him and the pep talk I know is coming.
“I have no doubt that this is the absolute last thing on Bancroft’s mind right now. He’s probably out having paparazzi-worthy fun.” I pick up the magazine and drop it on the sofa between me and Yemi, not adding that this isn’t the first time I have imagined what Eric Bancroft does with his free time.
“Exactly, so you need to just chill and accept that whatever comes tomorrow, you will get through it.” Yemi looks me dead in the eyes. “You are amazing at your job, they are lucky to have you and I promise you the sky is not falling, OK?”
I think of the panel, the room adorned with pink-hued floral displays with winding green stems, the guests eagerly gathered to hear the three women talk about their contemporary fairy tales. Jessie Fig, a lifestyle influencer and social media star who focuses on body positivity and self-love; Sonia Armington, sex coach and CEO of an ecofriendly sex toy brand; and Dr. Bernadette Reid, a popular relationship therapist and podcast host. All incredibly successful and inspiring. I remember the laugh I got as I introduced myself as “not Susie Jopling” and how quickly that glow faded once I saw Eric Bancroft slip into the room and stand at the back. His presence is usually noted by the occupiers of any room he walks into, but this time, with a room full of women looking for love, his quiet entrancefelt as if someone had set off a testosterone bomb. All eyes were on him, but his eyes were fixed on me. They taunted me, his eyebrow raised slightly as if to gloat that he didn’t need crappy jokes on a cue card to command attention.
As Keira Knightley sobs tragically on screen, I wonder how much of the meeting tomorrow I will spend feeling completely inferior.
3
Freshly painted and bitten-down fingernails tap erratically on my knee as the white fluorescent strip lights rain an unflattering glow over my body. Today’s outfit is a matching blazer and trousers in a white-and-cornflower-blue check; I once read defendants in court who wear light blue are more likely to be found innocent by the jury. I don’t exactly know what I’ve done, but I can guarantee if I’m guilty it’s something to do with the perpetual instigator sitting across from me.
He ignored me as we entered the conference room, leaning back and crossing one pleated trouser leg over the other in a display of disinterest and defiance. I rolled my eyes and ignored him back, instead intently focusing on the glossy framedNew York Timesarticles,Business Insiderprofiles andForbesaccolades listing the achievements of Martin Catcher and his well-respected umbrella company.
I shoot another glance at Bancroft. A tingle shoots up my spine when I find his emotionless eyes already focused on me, like one of those ominous haunted-house portraits that follow you around the room. I can’t quite putmy finger on it, but lately it feels as though his one step ahead of me has been further ahead than usual. In an attempt to match his relaxed stance, I lean back in the uncomfortable chair and cross one leg over the other. Dharmash and Susie are on their phones across the table, neither making eye contact with us.
Bancroft looks good, fresh even, considering what he was reportedly up to after the panel talk last night.Societeur Magazineposted a paparazzi shot of him having dinner with a young woman who seemed vaguely familiar. She was slim with short, trendy brunette hair and massive almond-shaped eyes. I tapped the tagged username “@irisfender.” Her bio told me she’s a model with half a million Instagram followers, twenty-two years old and a Pisces. In the photo of the two of them, I noticed he was staring right at the camera. He had the look he gives me when I beat his report numbers. Even in 2D form, that face still puts me on edge.
Mr. Catcher’s booming voice interrupts my train of thought. “Thank you both for coming on short notice. Catch Group is launching a new dating-app experience next year to fill a vital gap in the market, Ditto. A platform focused on matching users through the commonality of lifestyles and interests and automatically setting them up on pre-planned dates. Activities and dating: pairing people based on their way of living and hobbies will sit nicely across from our other two platforms that are focused on image”—he gestures to Bancroft—“and on biography”—looking at me.“Aligning in this way means users stay within the Catch Group family through their entire dating journey.”
“Would the user be swiping on the dates or other users?” I ask, intrigued.
“Great question. We’ll use the same back-end functionality as Fate and Ignite, but the first interface users will see is a selection of date packages. Once they’ve swiped yes or no to whatever sort of date they’re interested in, the algorithm will offer them potential matches who swiped for the same date packages. When they swipe on someone they like, they are agreeing to attend a time-slot date with that person.”
“So there’s no messaging or chat feature?”
Catcher smiles at me, nodding approvingly. “There will be for subscription users, but they will get a limited number of messages per interaction. We envision this being marketed as a pseudo-‘offline’ alternative to our current offerings, which brings me to you two.”
We both stay silent, but I catch Bancroft’s jaw tensing.
“So, you two have been working together for nearly two years now and you think we haven’t noticed?” Catcher asks, his hair plugs bobbing as he paces around the meeting room.
My mind races. I wonder if I should say something before he does, confess to whatever it is Catcher is talking about before he fires us both on the spot.
He sees my expression and laughs. “Don’t look so scared, sweetheart.”
My cheeks immediately flare from the embarrassmentof being singled out and annoyance at his casual sexism. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bancroft’s knuckles turn white.
Catcher stands still for the first time since entering the room. “Look, I’ve been in this industry for a while and I know a successful partnership when I see one, and I wouldn’t be the successful businessman I am if I didn’t capitalize on such a partnership.”
I blink, turning to Bancroft for confirmation that I’m not hallucinating; he doesn’t meet my eyes, but the lines on his hand relax to a state of only slightly tense.
“From what I’ve heard, you two light fires under the other, which has led to the highest user-acquisition rates Catch Group has had in years. It seems as though you bring out the best in each other.”
Mr. Catcher glances at Dharmash and Susie. Their reactions are like oil and water: the former looks proud; the latter looks absolutely livid, her eyes narrowing at me like a sharpshooter ready to strike.
Why didn’t Susie tell me about this? The news doesn’t seem like a surprise to her. She scowls for just a moment longer and then moves her gaze to the floor, sucking her teeth and crossing her arms. Mr. Catcher isn’t wrong: battling it out with Bancroft does make me work harder and smarter but we worked just as well, if not better, when we didn’t see each other as competitors for monthly bravado.
Bancroft lifts a hand. “With all due respect, Catcher, we talked about this being a solo project?”
I school my expression into neutrality, trying to piecethings together as Mr. Catcher strides back and forth in front of us.
“Eric, I appreciate your confidence but it’s vital we have a female perspective on this. Grace has proven she can bring in the feminine user base, and Ignite’s daily active users are currently sixty-seven percent male. Don’t get me wrong, you’re great at bringing the women in”—Mr. Catcher laughs, leans forward and slaps him on the shoulder—“but they’re not sticking around for long.”
He continues to pace the room, ignoring Bancroft’s wince. “That’s why I need you two to work in tandem during this ideation stage. I want to take this to market in twelve months. Learn from each other’s expertise, and use your contacts to get partners on board.”
“What about my presentation?” Bancroft questions through his teeth. My eyes dart back and forth between the two men, trying to connect the invisible dots.
