I stare at her in horror. “Are you saying I just rejected my soulmate?”
Viv’s eyes widen, obviously realizing her mistake, and she purses her lips, shaking her head. “No. Of course not. I mean, it’s not like Elizabeth is dating someone else.”
“That we know of,” Archer says in response, and my head feels like it was about to explode.
“Great. Well, this makes me feel all better. Thank you, seriously.” I take a step away, ready to hide away in my room for eternity.
“Aw, Derek. I’m sorry,” Quinn says, seeming genuinely upset.
I never want to be the reason any of my buddy’s girls are upset, so I lean over the back of the couch, giving her a hug, and then proceed to my room for a much-needed break.
Never in my life have I felt like I lost so much after game night.
Chapter Six
“I don’t know if we’re meant to be single for our whole lives, but with the way dating was shaping up, it sure feels that way.” - Molly
ELIZABETH
Marching through the halls of our office at work, I have one destination in mind, and one destination only: coffee.
I was up with Aurora all night. I tried to call in sick today only to get a lecture on how I was the one who begged for the marketing campaign we were supposed to present today and I either needed to be here or find another job.
Don’t you just love how employers treat their staff these days?
Aurora woke up in the middle of the night from a night terror, something that doesn’t happen all that often but that happens nonetheless. And of course, once she calmed down from that and went back to sleep, my braincataloged every single thing that I could have done wrong in her life to make that happen.
Thank God for my parents, who were happy to take her today. We only have three sick days left off of preschool, but I was willing to take the risk to let her have the day off.
Stepping into the break room, I head for the graciously filled coffee pot and fill my mug I keep stashed in my desk. A lot of people use the mugs that are here in the kitchen, but I can’t help but think of all the mouths that have touched them before mine.
Taking a moment before my presentation, I breathe in the aroma of coffee and the blissful seconds of quiet before marching back out of the break room and to my little desk. It’s not much—a corner cubicle that is decorated with a potted plant and a couple of pictures of Rora to look at when I’m sad I’m stuck here and she’s at school or my mom’s.
I sigh and pull up the marketing materials that I put together. We’re supposed to be helping a florist shop in town with its advertising but every option I’ve pulled, either Mr. Hansen has waved off, or Trip has pivoted away from.
Why he was able to veto my ideas was beyond me.
I need another job.
My watch beeps, and I take a look, noting that I need to go get set up in the conference room for my pitch with the client, and head that way.
“Yeah, I don’t know if this is the route to go,” Trip says, interrupting me mid-sentence. I keep my professional smile on my face so Adam, our client and the florist who hired us, won’t see my irritation. “Do we really want to just have some boring old commercials for a florist shop? Or should we go bold?”
“I like the idea of bold,” Mr. Hansen agrees, nodding his head and pointing at Trip like he’s some sort of genius. “Sets you apart from the competition.”
“Unfortunately, there’s only so much you can do to set yourself apart when you’re a florist.” Adam’s monotone voice is not lost on me, and I nod, picking up his mood.
“Very true. And I think your gorgeous wedding arrangements should be the focus of this particular campaign. We can always do another one to showcaseother things, but to get the word of your shop out there, I think we start here.” I click the button, moving the slideshow to some of his beautiful flower arrangements. He really does have a gift. “You did the centerpieces for the mayor’s wedding last fall, and with a recommendation from him, you could easily get business with that name attached. The real trick is getting people to see it.”
Adam nods, an accepting smile on his face, but Mr. Hansen interrupts.
“Is that what you want? Or do you want to be the top florist in the city?”
I feel myself losing control, and my shoulders drop. What is he doing? Did he really hate me so much that he’s willing to lose a client over it?
“I would like that, sir. Someday. But I don’t think doing flower arrangements for nightclubs is going to be the route I take.” Adam says this much more diplomatically than I would have. But then again, my patience is at zero.
We move on, making plans for setting up a commercial for the flowers. I know a guy who does great cinematic work and makes the commercial look less, well, commercial. After promising to get everything in order and going for Adam, he and Mr. Hansen depart, and I start to take down my presentation.
