I groaned. Hollis Miller was an influencer who fashioned himself the “internet’s truth teller” for all food-related topics. He spewed some garbage takes, but he’d amassed millions of followers who took his word as gospel.
“We’ll have to prove him wrong,” I decided. “He can’t complain about Derek being a sellout if the product is so good it blows his fucking mind.”
Sebastian made a noncommittal noise. He’d been distracted all day, but I let it slide since I had my own issues to deal with.
I tapped my pen against the desk, strangely restless.
Putting Hollis’s video aside,whycouldn’t I celebrate pulling off a flawless launch announcement? I should be sending a company-wide email highlighting the impressive stats, not stewing in uncertainty.
Maybe it was because something about the contamination cases still didn’t make sense. There was a missing detail that tickled my brain like an itch I couldn’t scratch.
Or maybe…
I glanced over at my least favorite Laurent. He was still scrolling on his phone, his brow furrowed.
Maybe it was my proximity to Sebastian. He was still irritating, infuriating, and every other negative adjective that ended ining, but he was also comforting, in his own way. I knew what to expect when it came to him, but I felt the sands beneath our relationship slowly shifting.
First, there was my apology to him at the Vault, which I’d blurted out in a fit of drunken guilt. He’d accepted it without question, which was out of character for him. Then he’d suggested the Five Trials to take my mind off that shitty week (he could deny it, but I knew that was what he’d been doing). Last week’s dessert had been the cherry on top.
I’d fucked up when I’d called him about it, but I had to know. What was he playing at?
Between the chocolate bonbon and free cake, I was convinced Sebastian was waging some form of food-based warfare. To what end, I had no clue, but I didn’t trust his seemingly innocent actions one bit.
Sebastian put his phone away and stood. “It’s lunchtime. Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
He stared at me like I was particularly slow. “Tolunch.”
“I’m just going to order delivery. There’s too much to do here.” Now that the world knew about the collaboration, I had to make sure the actual launch was perfect. If I didn’t win an award for next year’s rollout, I was going to be pissed and, worse, embarrassed.
That was the part no one told you about succeeding. Onceyou achieved something, you had tokeepachieving it and more. The baseline rose with every accomplishment, and if you didn’t meet it—especially if you were a woman in corporate—you were perceived as having “lost your touch.”
Perhaps there’d be a day when I stopped caring about others’ opinions, but today was not that day.
“Maya.” Sebastian leaned forward and planted his hands on the table. His eyes drilled into mine. “You are not eating some sad, wilted salad for lunch when there’s an incredible ramen place two blocks away. I know the owner. We’ll be in and out in forty minutes, tops.”
“Forty?” I was aghast. Did he know how many emails I could answer in forty minutes?
I liked a nice, leisurely meal as much as the next girl, but not during work hours. Not when my reputation and pride rested on my ability to pull off the biggest, best product launch the food industry had ever seen.
“They have the best vegetarian ramen in the city,” Sebastian coaxed. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried it. Trust me.”
“You eat the ramen,” I said firmly. “I’ll stay here.”
I sounded like a total killjoy, but I didn’t mix work with pleasure.Notthat I considered lunch with Sebastian a pleasure—it was the principle of the matter.
His eyes narrowed. After a minute, he shook his head and left.
Finally.
I exhaled, my entire body deflating. When he was here, he took up so much oxygen that I had to remind myself to breathe.
The problem was, when hewasn’there, I had nothing to distract me.
I stared at the notifications popping up in the top-right corner of my screen like clockwork. Emails, texts, and WhatsApp messages about everything from ad metrics to my birthday cake tobridesmaid duties for Priya’s wedding.
My pulse sped up. I grabbed my water bottle and took a healthy swig, trying to calm my nerves.
