My whole body jumps at the sound of the bass of Chris’s booming voice, demanding me to follow.
Is this his way of saying thank you for the suit? Without a second to resist, I scramble all my things in my hands and follow him into the boardroom. Standing in my designated corner, without a chair.
Everyone slowly trickles into the largest boardroom in our office, the most important people at the foot of the table, waiting for this meeting to start. A draft sweeps through the crowd, forcing me to grit my teeth.
The chair at the head of the table swivels around as everyone gets quieter in anticipation. When the chair fully turns, I lock in on him. Holden Strauss is sitting pretty at the very end of the row of people.
A shouting match begins, with every suit calling out ideas. This is a “think tank,” as Chris has coined. Holden slowly sinks in his chair with each passing moment.
I should take the time to learn my coworker’s names, but they never tried to learn mine, so in my mind everyone is called “suit.”
“He is a leading man. We need to position him as a love interest.”
“How about a reality show?”
“I know a luxury watch brand that would totally pivot his image.”
“He needs to be on TikTok. Introduce him to a younger generation.”
Each suggestion is more ridiculous than the last. When the meeting becomes stale, Chris graces us with the finale, aka whipping his dick around to show everyone who’s boss.
“All press is a good thing. We are just trying to spin this to make you America’s sweetheart again. Besides, your career can only go up from here—you dug yourself into quite a hole with that video.”
Holden remains silent. His aloof expression is now focused in my direction. I refocus my eyes back toward Chris, feeling his eyes on me without saying a word.
Somehow, everyone has caught on to his stare because I’m the object of everyone’s fascination now.
“What about a heart-stretching tell-all book to depict his troubled past and his parents influence to explain his recent poor behavior?” a suit blurts out, directing his suggestion to Chris and avoiding Holden’s gaze.
This sparks a knee-jerk reaction of rolling my eyes. The last hour in this room has been hopeless. I am not even sure what notes to take on this. Without a doubt, I can assure you that Holden Strauss will not sign with us after today.
“I think we have all come up with some great ideas. What do you think?”
Chris’s tone is cheerful and optimistic, having no awareness of Holden’s lack of enthusiasm.
“You.”
Holden points at me and my face flushes as I lift my head up from my notepad. A bold, firm word that makes me shiver. My eyes switch between the floor and his gaze, as this is the second time he has singled me out in this meeting.
Before I can process what is happening, everyone is getting up from their chairs, except for a few stakeholders that hang back.
Holden proceeds to ask, “Tell me honestly, what do you think?”
From across the room, I know the next words I say will linger. Glancing at Chris, I wait to speak. Chris is expressionless.
Is Chris testing me? I bite the inside of my cheek. Holden settles in his chair, gesturing for me to go on with my real opinion, rubbing his finger against his lips, waiting for my words. My mouth agape, I fumble a few incoherent words before I can hear Chris’s unwelcome voice cut in.
“She’s just an assistant.”
My fingertips grip the edge of my notebook as I wait for Holden’s reaction.
“I remember when I was sixteen, doing this ridiculous shoot for some lifestyle magazine. Everyone on set was pulling the most absurd outfits and putting me in even worse poses. Think feathers and fedoras.”
“Just thinking about it makes me want to gag. After an hour of getting nowhere, my mom pointed out the styling assistant cautiously watching from afar. ‘Always pay attention to the quietest person in the room,’ she said. So, everyone here has been talking nonstop and every idea has been ass. Time to hear from little Miss Wallflower over there.”
The cold draft circulates my way; my eyes ping-ponging between Chris and Holden again.
Holden gets up from his seat, pacing frantically. “Look, she winced when she heard the book deal idea. You have opinions. Go on, be honest.”
