The meeting is officially done.
I stand up, keeping my distance as they ramble a few things to each other. I can’t hear a thing.
Watching them, probably discussing me, only makes my jaw lock up, holding this pressure that I can’t release until I see them go in for a handshake.
“Talk soon,” Holden says, looking at both of us. When he is out of our line of sight and I am about to leave the room, Chris whispers, “You know, Lena landed her first client when she was in your position…
Chapter three
Behind the Bench
In red, “One Missed Call” appears on my phone mere seconds later. Something must be very wrong.
I set my status as “away” in Slack and sprint toward the elevator. When the doors open up to the lobby floor, I search for Aidan’s name.
Seconds away from pressing his contact, my screen short-circuits, instantly forming red and blue lines across the middle of my phone. Each color repeatedly flickers against the glass.
My body naturally glides behind the red-haired woman ordering an overpriced macchiato. It takes about fifteen aggressive taps on my phone for the blue and red lines to stop flashing.
Instead of bringing me back to my home screen or even to Aidan’s name, something overtakes it. Without touching theglass surface, I’m scrolling down my contact list, running down a series of names until it lands on Ms. Silva’s number.
My phone was only purchased two and half months ago. I would remember if I dropped it in water or concrete. If that guy at the phone store sold me a refurbished phone for the price of a brand-new one, I’m going to lose it.
To any bystander observing this, I am pleading to a phone, acting as if my dog died, whining to a cellular device. When the second person in line shoots me a glance, I force myself to take deep breaths.
As I inch further in line, the phone screen eventually returns back to normal. This time, when I tap Aidan’s name, the call goes through.
“Hey, baby,” I say, stepping forward in the line for coffee.
“My friend who I playEchoes of the Undeadwith—you know, Joe—he does game design for a living and he wants to collaborate with me. How cool is that?” He sounds out of breath, like he just went for a run.
I nod instinctively, realizing the gesture is pointless because he isn’t here to see me.
“You there?” he asks before I have a chance to register.
I quickly scramble for words. “Yes, baby, that’s amazing!”
From there, his ideas spill out one after another. His excitement keeps the energy of the call alive.
“Yeah, seriously. I’ve hated all my other VC proposals. But getting in on the ground floor for this would be legit. I see so much opportunity here, Charlotte.”
“You are definitely made to be in the gaming industry. You got hours of gameplay to prove it.”
“I know it’ll be so much better than working for my dad’s company. Anyway, sweetheart, you had a meeting today, right?”
“I did, yeah. It was kind of a big deal.”
“Oh! Joe is calling. Do you mind if I call you later?”
Before I can respond, the call disconnects.
I mutter irritably, “Love you too, babe,” as I inch forward in the coffee line, the words lingering unanswered between me and the dead call. Maybe the Whitmores will finally be satisfied with us. The board meeting was my start and this could be his.
With a deep breath and a long sip of my coffee, I prepare myself to go into Chris’s office to hand deliver the edited memo for our monthly team meeting.
If I drop this off for his review, it could lead to sharing another idea I had for another client at the firm. He seemed so impressed with me an hour ago that I should really capitalize on this.
With the paper pressed tightly against my chest, I walk up to his door, ready to knock. I grip my knuckles and firmly press my fist on the glass door.
