She turns back to her computer. “Go bother someone else. I have actual work to do. Kerri wants these edits by three.”
“The new PR director?” I spin the chair one more time. “She seems cool.”
“She’s great. She’s also not going to approve any of your ideas, so don’t even think about going over my head.”
“I would never.”
“You absolutely would.”
“This is actual work. I’m workshopping. I’m collaborating.” I pull out my phone, scrolling through my camera roll. “Okay, new pitch. Hockey players as memes. Look—” I pull up TikTok, finding the video I posted yesterday. Roman’s face mid-scowl after I asked him something stupid during practice, grumpy cat filter making his ears twitch. “Tell me this isn’t perfect.”
Carly leans over to look and she laughs. “Oh my god. Rodriguez, this has two million views.”
“I know, right? The fans love him.”
“He’s going to kill you.”
“He’s not even going to see it. Does Roman strike you as someone who’s on TikTok?”
“No. But he strikes me as someone who’s standing right behind you,” Carly says flatly.
I look back.
Roman is standing inthe doorway. Shit.
“Cap!”I shove my phone in my pocket. “Welcome back. How was Chicago? Cold, right? I hear it’s cold there this time of?—”
“Show me your phone.”
“What phone?”
Roman takes one step into the room. Just one. It’s enough.
“Okay, so here’s the thing.” I’m already standing and edging toward the door. “Art is subjective, and I really think if you look at it from a certain perspective?—”
“Rodriguez.”
“It was a compliment! Grumpy cat is beloved! He’s an internet icon!”
“You have five seconds.”
“Carly, back me up here.”
“I don’t know you,” Carly says, eyes fixed on her screen. “Never seen you before in my life.”
“Betrayal. Okay.” I slip past Roman through the doorway, hands up in surrender. “I’m deleting it. Right now. Watch me delete it.”
I’m walking backwards down the hallway, making a show of pulling out my phone while Roman follows at a measured pace. He’s not running. He doesn’t need to. The threat is implied.
“There, see? Gone. Deleted forever.” I tap my screen a few times without actually deleting anything. “No more grumpy cat. The internet will never know what could have been.”
“And the version you sent to the group chat.”
Damn. He checks the group chat?
“Also deleted. Totally. One hundred percent.”
I round the corner toward the PT wing, putting some distance between us. Roman’s footsteps are still coming. The man has nowhere to be and all day to kill me.
