Tim shrugs, and Judy agrees with a decisive nod.
I glance at Amanda, and she’s practically glowing as she watches Jake from across the table. There’s something between them. I can feel it.
Do they have a thing? Were they together after Jake and I broke up? The thought lands in my chest with an unwelcome sting.
Judy claps once. “Good luck to both teams. As always, no use of AI is allowed. We pride ourselves on one hundred percent human creativity. And don’t forget, our company’s fifteenth anniversary party is in two weeks. I expect everyone to attend.”
Beside me, Wendy squirms with barely contained excitement. “I hear these parties are extravagant,” she whispers, eyes wide and shining. “Like…rent-an-entire-ballroom extravagant.”
The meeting ends, and Jake leads our newly formed team to a sleek workspace on the 10th floor, all glass and chrome and modern desks arranged in a collaborative cluster. Whiteboards line the walls, pristine and waiting for our collective brilliance.
While the group erupts into excited chatter, splitting into animated little clusters as they toss around target demographics and brand positioning, I turn to Wendy and say, “Be right back.”
I weave my way over to Jake, who’s absorbed in whatever’s on his tablet, and when no one’s looking, I grab his arm and steer him toward the stairwell. He jolts, then follows, and the heavy door swings shut behind us with a decisive click.
“What were you thinking?” I hiss, releasing his arm. “You said we should keep our past a secret. Ignoring each other was our best bet.”
Jake leans back against the wall, arms crossed, infuriatingly calm while I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Do you not trust yourself to do your job?” he asks, voice steady, like he’s the reasonable one here.
“Don’t you dare flip this on me,” I snap, my voice ricocheting off the concrete walls. “You know I don’t want to be around you.”
He pushes off the wall and steps closer, and the space between us shrinks too fast. His gaze locks onto mine, steady and intent. “Why is it such a big deal to you whether or not we work together?”
I scoff, the sound sharp and ugly, exactly how I want it. How can he stand there and play dumb? “I know what you’ve done.”
“And what is that?” His eyebrows lift, challenging me.
I step closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, close enough that four years ago I would’ve risen onto my toes and kissed him without thinking. Now I only glare. “You took credit for my work.” Every word is an accusation. “On your uncle’s campaign.” My voice cracks on that last breath, betraying the depth of the wound no matter how hard I try to hold it steady. “How could you?”
Shock flashes across his face, genuine and unfiltered. His mouth opens to respond—
“What’s going on?” Amanda’s sharp voice floats down from a flight of stairs above us.
Instinctively, I shove Jake back, putting distance between us before turning to face her. “Nothing!” The word comes out too high, too fast—guilt written all over it.
Jake, unfazed, grins up at Amanda. “We were just brainstorming campaign ideas.”
Amanda narrows her eyes. Her fingers curl around the metal railing as she leans forward, slow and deliberate, like she’s closing in on something she already suspects.
“Right,” I say, smoothing my blouse with trembling hands. “I’m gonna get back to the group.”
I hurry past Amanda and out of the stairwell, nearly colliding with Wendy in the hallway.
“Where were you?” she asks, wide-eyed with concern.
“In the stairwell talking to Jake, but Amanda found us.”
Wendy looks left and right before leaning in close. “Do you think she suspects something?”
“I have no idea. But I don’t think she likes me.”
I sit down at my cubicle, determined to brainstorm ideas, but my thoughts swirl like autumn leaves caught in a windstorm. I’m too preoccupied with Amanda. Why did she volunteer to join our team? Was it because she knew I overheard them earlier in the office? Is this her way of keeping me where she can see me? I didn’t even understand what they were talking about, not fully, just the word promotion and the sense that it mattered to them. I just want to prove my worth here, not get in anyone’s way.
After an unproductive afternoon of staring at a blank document and doodling perfume bottles in the margins of my notepad, I pack up my things and head home before anyone else. Jake doesn’t follow me this time. Maybe he sensed my need for space, or maybe he’s busy explaining himself to Amanda.
I need to start moving my things into the second-floor apartment, away from the daily reminder that Jake exists just a few feet from my door. So, I haul a box into the hallway, arms trembling, cardboard biting into my palms.
That’s when Lance appears. The second he sees me struggling, he steps in without hesitation, offering to help like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
