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Zara had once read that Venus was the planet with the densest atmosphere, about ninety times thicker than Earth’s. Sitting in this meeting room at the bank, Zara could imagine how that might feel. The vibes in the room were heavy.

She was acutely aware of the anxiety radiating from Tess, who sat next to her. She’d never exactly had a poker face, but they’d spent a lot of time together recently, making Zara that much more attuned to her emotions. Tess’s body was silently screaming.

Tess adjusted her posture, fingers tapping nervously on the polished conference table. Zara longed to reach for her hand, to offer comfort. Obviously, she couldn’t. Even the wrong look could give the game away. So Zara was concentrating on the table. It was mahogany with some sort of lacquer. There was a swirl in the wood that looked like a lion biting the head of a kitten if you squinted.

The door swung open, and Phillip entered. He wasn’t smiling.

As he sat, Zara drew a deep breath in through her nose.

‘So, we’re here to discuss the performance of The Eclipse,’ her boss began, his tone clipped. ‘I want to know what you’ve done to improve ticket sales, Tess.’

Tess’s posture shifted, her body instinctively leaning forward as if she might jump over the table to physically fight him. ‘We’ve implemented several new marketing strategies and themed nights,’ she replied, her voice steady but laced with uncertainty. This wasn’t Tess speak. Zara had fed her the lines. ‘Attendance has picked up quite a bit, and we’re seeing more engagement on social media—’

Zara noticed how her boss’s eyebrows furrowed, his scepticism evident. ‘That’s not enough,’ he said, cutting her off.

Zara was pissed off now, too. Tess and Zara had worked tirelessly, and to see their hard work dismissed was a kick in the tits to both of them.

‘But we met the targets?’ Tess said, irritation slipping into her voice. As well it might.

‘We’ve had to reassess,’ Phillip said, folding his hands across the table.

‘But the terms of the loan…’

‘Are changeable with market conditions,’ he told her gruffly. ‘It’s in the paperwork if you care to look. I need you to do more. If this doesn’t turn around soon, we’ll have to reassess our funding.’

Tess’s expression hardened, and Zara worried she was going to say something that would not help the meeting. Zara bit her lip, glancing sideways at Tess. She didn’t notice. She was glaring at Phillip.

Zara risked touching Tess with her foot underneath the table. Tess didn’t react. At this point, Zara could only hope Tess wouldn’t go off.

But then Tess said from between gritted teeth, ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

Zara tried not to look too obviously relieved that Tess wasn’t hitting the roof. It wasn’t like her to take it like this. But clearly, there was more on the line than ever. It was one thing to have the business failing; it was another to be in debt to a bank.

Zara decided it was time to jump in. ‘I think Tess has made incredible strides from where we started. I’ve been very impressed, personally,’ she said. It felt a little risky. But she had to back Tess up.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to open the door to more shit-heaping from Phillip. As the meeting dragged on, Zara could see the way Tess’s shoulders tightened with each critical remark, her eyes narrowing in response to her boss’s relentless demands.

Zara couldn’t take much more of this. ‘Tess has been working very hard and has taken every measure suggested,’ Zara said. ‘She’s deeply committed to keeping the place going.’

Zara’s boss raised an eyebrow. ‘If that’s the case, perhaps we should talk about the business plan you put together?’

OK, that was a threat.

Zara pushed her teeth into a smile. ‘Happy to.’

She straightened in her chair, ready for this. She took a deep breath, ready to dive into the numbers and projections she had meticulously crafted.

‘The business plan outlines a comprehensive strategy for increasing ticket sales by thirty percent over the next year,’ she began, her voice steady. ‘We’ve analysed market trends and identified key demographics that are currently underserved. With further targeted marketing efforts, I’m confident we can reach them.’

Her boss leaned back, arms crossed, the faintest hint of scepticism etched on his face. ‘This is in the budget? Or are you eating your profits for this media push?’

Zara’s smile remained, but her heart raced. ‘Not at all. I’ve accounted for every cost, including the maintenance of the cinema and potential upgrades. We can make this work without overextending ourselves.’

Phillip looked annoyed, like he’d thought he had her. He attacked Zara again, coming from a different angle. ‘There’s further cuts to be made, you realise? If you’re serious about profit.’

Zara realised where he was going. ‘We’ve looked at staffing. I couldn’t make further cuts.’

‘You could. And you’ve added, not taken away.’

‘Yes, that was unavoidable. With the new bar, we needed a bartender.’

‘But you mentioned an under-skilled member in your report. A man on a salary that is not in proportion to his value,’ Phillip said.

He was talking about Jerry. Zara had given thought to him. She’d considered a recommendation of letting him go. But she’d known Tess wouldn’t. It was a pointless argument. ‘We had to assess his value using a different metric,’ Zara said vaguely.

‘Sentimentality?’ Phillip asked.

That was right on the money. But she had to find a better way to explain. ‘Well…’ she began, trying to think of a business-y way to explain Tess’s attachment to Jerry and his old ways. ‘Umm…’

‘You’re talking about Jerry?’ Tess interjected.

‘If that’s the projectionist,’ Phillip shrugged.

‘Jerry,’ Tess repeated. ‘That’s his name,’ she said with barely disguised revulsion.

‘A projectionist who cannot work the technology at the cinema,’ Phillip noted, unfazed.

‘I won’t sack him,’ Tess said. ‘If he retires, he’ll die of a heart attack in six months. He’s that guy.’

‘That is not how a business is run,’ Phillip said, unmoved.

‘It’s how mine is run,’ Tess told him.

‘It’s not just yours anymore,’ Phillip told her.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Tess said tightly.

Zara, desperate to stop the meeting from degenerating further, had an idea. ‘I haven’t put this in the paperwork, but Tess and I are making plans to utilise Jerry’s skills as a reel projectionist.’

‘Oh?’ Phillip asked.

‘Are we?’ Tess asked, just as surprised.

‘We’re planning a, err, real reel club. Every week, we’ll sell tickets for a 35mm showing of a classic movie. To bring cinephiles looking for a more rarified experience, as well as an older audience who remember seeing movies in that format. And I don’t need to tell you that the over seventies are a key demographic for cinemas. They’re one of the few demos that have the time and the money to see movies,’ Zara said.

She stopped there, pretty sure that if she kept going, Phillip would realise she was pulling this plan out of her arse.

Phillip was stone-faced for a moment. ‘I see. Well, I’d like a bit more detail on that at some point.’

Zara felt the tension in the room shift slightly, the air growing lighter. He’d gone for it. So had Zara, actually. It might be a good idea.

‘Right, well, I think we should probably meet again, Miss Fitzgerald. In a month. See how these plans have been implemented.’

‘Sure,’ Tess said. She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She nearly ran out.

Zara’s heart sank at the sight of Tess’s retreating figure, her shoulders slumped. Zara didn’t like seeing her look so defeated. A hatred for her boss was born in the moment.

As the door clicked shut behind Tess, Zara’s boss turned to her, his expression shifting from stern to condescending. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as if he was about to deliver a lecture. ‘We’re counting on you to keep things in line.’

Zara nodded; her heart raced with anxiety. The condescension in his voice made her skin crawl, but she was determined to hold her ground. ‘I understand,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘We’re working hard. But it takes time. As you know.’

‘I understand that. But you need to focus on what’s best for the bank and the bottom line. Don’t let your personal feelings for the staff interfere with your judgment,’ he said.

Zara paused. Did he know? Or was she misinterpreting his business-speak?

‘I’ll do what’s necessary to improve the situation,’ she managed to reply, forcing confidence into her tone.

‘Good, great,’ he said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

Zara was frozen for a moment, the reality of her position settling heavily in her chest. She had to find a way to protect both Tess and her career. But how the fuck she was going to do that was yet to be known.

As she turned to leave, she wondered if she was about to wreck her life.

The stakes were rising, and the fear of losing both her career and the woman she was – if she was being really honest with herself – falling quite bloody hard for, hung heavy.