Page 12
Story: So Not My Type
Ella poised her fingers above the keyboard, clicking at a furious rate as Sophie rattled off information about buffering in a week in case leaders went off in a different creative direction, talking about aligning on the vision, and building strategy. “And we always,alwaysneed to do a final handoff to the legal department, no matter what.”
“Got it.”Don’t got it. Don’t got it.
The room spun as Sophie kept talking. Ella’s fingers couldn’t keep up. Her mouth grew dry, her lower back beaded with sweat. “Wait. I thought the leadership approvals had to be done before creative approvals.”
Sophie returned a deadpan stare.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.Ella swallowed.“No, sorry. I just misspoke.”
The screen popped up an error message and Ella froze. Did she press a wrong button? As Sophie continued talking, Ella pounded on the delete button. Nothing.Come on!Why wasn’t it working? Sophie’s going to think she was an idiot. Multiple mouse clicks and hitting escape like a lunatic did nothing. Her pulse thumped in her throat. She hooked a finger in her collar, pulling away the fibers sticking to her neck.
Her arm flung out to grab the reusable water bottle, but instead knocked it over, the metal clanking with a shriek against the desk. “Shit! Sorry.” She swiped it up, fumbled her grip, and breathed out a prayer of thanks she had kept the top covered.
A gentle hand rested on hers. “Breathe, okay?” Sophie’s eyes softened as she stared at the red error message of death on Ella’s computer. She sighed and leaned forward. Her sweater dipped, exposing a rounded, creamy shoulder with a constellation of freckles on the upper arm, and a hint of a racerback lace bra.
Ella averted her gaze.
“This program can be super finicky,” Sophie said. “It’s not your fault. Go back to the home screen.”
Ella slunk back into her chair, the thudding pulse lowering. “Thank you.”
Sophie returned to slapping at the keyboard. “Once we get set up, we’ll set a kickoff meeting…”
Soon, people began funneling through the office doors. Chatter and key taps thundered in the air. Ella took notes and updated a timeline using Sophie’s guidelines on time bufferingwhen the large corner doors swung open, ricocheting into the wall with a thud.
“Teamwork makes the dream work!” Her dad’s booming voice filled the space how only it could.
Ella rolled her eyes.
His slicked-back, pomaded, thinning black hair bounced with each heavy stomp. Pulling his lips back for a wide, toothy grin, he patted a guy on the back, tipped a phantom hat at a woman in the corner, and smacked his palms together with a piercing pop. “How’s it going, you two?”
God, he’s loud.
Ella bristled and avoided Sophie’s gaze. It was inevitable, of course. She worked at her father’s company. Everyone here surely knew this was her dad, but they didn’t need a constant reminder. She may not have landed this job on her own, but she was damn grateful for the opportunity and determined to bust her butt to prove she earned her place. A terrible memory of her in a dance troupe class when she was ten flashed into her mind. She’d thought she was a good ballerina, great even. Her mom had told her a million times and cheered the loudest at rehearsals. But behind the backstage velvet curtains, she’d heard the dance instructor say, “We know Ella’s not gifted like the other students, but her parents are huge donors, so…”
Fourteen years later, the words still scarred.
“Sophie, this isn’t high school, you know. Hazing is totally legal and encouraged for new hires.” Her dad laughed with a sharp crack, and nudged Sophie with an elbow. “You can take it. Right, El?”
Ella wanted to crawl in a hole. No, a crater. No, she wanted to catapult to the deepest, darkest part of the solar system. She needed to hide from whatever the hell look was on Sophie’s face, with her lips pulled tight into her mouth. She was either tryingnot to laugh or seriously annoyed, and neither one was great for Ella.
“Sure can.” Ella smoothed out the top of her sleeves. Like it or not, her dad was her boss. She had to play the subservient employee-daughter game for just a few months. Then she could break free. Run like she was being chased, strip off the shackles that had been on her since birth.
“So, we are, um, just locking things down here, Da—” She wasthis closeto sayingDad, but sucked back the words. “Did you need something?”
Her dad smiled. “Nope, just making sure you’re putting your best foot forward. Don’t try to boil the ocean on day one.” He pivoted on his freshly shined loafers.
Someone she didn’t recognize muttered, “Bingo.”
Sophie coughed through a grin and turned back to her computer screen.
An hour shy of lunchtime, Sophie rose from her chair and rolled it under her desk. “Follow me.”
Oh, thank God. As invigorating as it was being in the trenches, Ella needed a brain break. She trailed Sophie, pulling back her shoulders as Sophie led her past several glass-encased rooms. They stepped into a large, stark-white conference room where a smattering of folks huddled around a table. Besides a whiteboard wall and an impressive array of markers, the room was totally barren.
“Hey, everyone.” Sophie’s smile turned warm and genuine, and Ella wasn’t sure why that bothered her. “Thanks so much for being here. Super-quick pre-kickoff meeting to let you know what’s ahead. We all got the timing for the new project. It’s okay, let it out, we can collectively groan now.”
A couple people did actually groan, and Sophie chuckled. “Now that we have that out of the way…”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
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- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12 (Reading here)
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- Page 75