Ch. 35 The Empty Rooftop
The hum of quiet conversation surrounds me as my team and I work towards our latest goals.
Every time someone walks by, I can't help but look up to see if it's Marcus.
Last night was...my fingers twitch. I'm not used to second guessing myself.
I tossed and turned, cursing myself one minute for rejecting him, and then happy that for once, I put myself above someone else.
Marcus likes me. And I told him we could never be together.
It's only now, as I sit in my mesh office chair, fingers flying on my keyboard and eyes surreptitiously tracking every person that walks through, that the weight of the conversation is truly settling in.
I stand by what I said–I don't want to be with someone who only sees debt when they turn their eyes to me. So then, why does it hurt so much?
I draft interview responses while my team–now shocked into doing their work after my fall–works on presentations.
It's safe to say, Marcus, through Kyle, put the fear of God in them after my collapse. I don't know exactly what went down—they all refuse to tell me—but it's clear they're on a thin leash.
Again something to be grateful for.
Interviews are likely to start soon. I can't help the quivering in my stomach. I'll be facing cameras again after such a long time.
An e-mail pops up on my screen–from Marcus. I swallow nervously before opening it.
To: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected]
Folks,
We're in the final stretch of this project.
ADAI will be ready for soft launch by the end of this week.
Harper: Have two teams on standby to debug the software on launch.
Sameena: Make sure the usage TCs are tight, and the contracts are clear. Ensure penalties and non-compete hurt enough to discourage sabotage.
Nolan: I want ADAI's launch to be used to boost our existing line-up.
Celeste: Check the list of studios and individual directors that have shown interest. Reach out to relevant influencers as well—see who's interested in the smartphone app.
Vet the names and create a list of interested parties who are most likely to align well with ADAI and be excited to work with it while still being generous in their reviews—
This is revolutionary tech; make sure to choose parties who'll appreciate it and enjoy participation.
If you find that the team assigned to you is not enough, pull in more people. Co-ordinate with Kyle and Nolan as necessary.
Good luck.
Marcus Holden,
Chairman.
I don't know what I was expecting, but the firm, professional tone of the email has me confused for a bit.
On the one hand, I'm excited to see the product I helped create ready to launch, but on the other... would it kill Marcus to sound a little more excited himself?
I huff and get back to work.
—------------------------
I don't spot Marcus all of today, again––unless one counts the burrito I got for lunch as a proxy appearance.
A burrito I didn't order.
Is Marcus trying to pay me back in food? Is this his way of buying my forgiveness?
Shouldn't he at least show me his face once in a while?
His absence is loud in a way I didn't expect it to be.
Was I mistaken? Was his confession just a fever dream?
Just before leaving, I chance going to the rooftop... I refuse to admit it's because I want to run into him.
I just need...some air.
Oh! Who am I kidding?
I push open the door, hoping against hope to catch him, but it's empty.
I try not to let my disappointment settle in my gut as I leave for the day.
—--------------------
I hear the rooftop door bang shut as Celeste leaves.
I can't believe I'm hiding like a criminal in the corner––but it might be necessary.
I can't get Kyle's comments out of my ears as he stumbled through his words.
"Good God! What's happened to your eyes? Did someone box you?!"
I shrug, refusing to answer, but Kyle's nod is too understanding.
I don't mind others seeing me like this—but seeing me like this would hurt Celeste. I just know it. She would feel bad—possibly even guilty.
I saw my own under-eye shadows reflected beneath her eyes before she left. My chest twists.
We have the press conference and an interview coming up. It's a chance—at least the beginning of one.
I'm going to fix this. Somehow, I'm going to correct my mistakes.
I drop my head on the wall behind me, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of a night spent worrying.
I eventually leave the roof and the building—though not before dropping off mango candies at Celeste's table.
—------------------
The spotlight shines in my eyes every time I look towards the camera, and I have to stop myself from squinting.
It's my first interview with Marcus post the joint press conference, and I can't help but admire his broad shoulders in his tailored navy suit.
"Ms Shaw, how was your experience working with the engineers at Ingram Tech?"
I smile at the interviewer. "Scary—to be honest." The interviewer raises an eyebrow, and a glint enters her eye—she's finally landing on something juicy.
For the past two hours, she's been trying to trip up Marcus or me in the hopes of getting something scandalous.
"They are all so talented. Each and every member of our team was so passionate, hardworking and knowledgeable, I sometimes felt like an imposter. But they were all so kind to me.
"They made me feel welcome, took my ideas and feedback into consideration and made sure I knew I was a valued part of the team.
"It's been scary, but amazing."
Her jaw tightens, though her smile widens.
She turns to the camera again. "One final question for this dynamic duo—we heard that you retired from the entertainment industry due to some unsavory reasons. Would you like to elaborate on this?"
My pulse thunders in my ears as I struggle to come up with the words to deflect her.
Her smirk says "Gotcha!"—a deliberate attempt to bring up the past I worked so hard to bury.
Beside me, Marcus smiles at the camera, completely at ease, before taking my hand in his and giving it a light squeeze under the table.
"Whatever her reasons to retire might have been, we at Ingram Tech are inordinately pleased that someone of her extraordinary calibre chose to partner with us."
He smiles at the interviewer, but there's an edge there that has sharpened to the point it now says, 'we're done.'
The interviewer gets it.
"That's the creators of a revolutionary product—nicknamed ADAI—for you! We'll return with more news after a short commercial break. Stay tuned!"
Once the director calls "Cut!" Marcus helps me down from the stool and places my hand in the crook of his elbow.
"You certainly don't make it easy Ms. Olsen. It was a pleasure."
Right––that was her name. I paste a smile to my lips. I can't help but notice—when Marcus extends his hand to shake hers, she clings to it until he has to pull it away.
A vein throbs in his jaw, which is tense, even though he's smiling.
He maneuvers me out of the studio until we are safely ensconced in Berta.
"Thanks for taking over the last question."
"Of course. Are you okay?"
"Fine. Let's go."
Marcus drives me home, but the silence between us lingers—smoke after a dead fire.
Will things be like this between us forever?
I swallow the groan that threatens to burst out of me—holding it in all the way home.
—----------------------
I stare at the mango lollipops on my table. Every day for the past two weeks, I've found candies on my desk.
Food I haven't ordered finds me at lunch. Always warm. Always my favorite.
Today is no different.
I frown, resigned at the delivery. No matter how much I argue, it's not the delivery guy's fault.
I grit my teeth. My colleagues are noticing.
They make snide comments about secret admirers and hidden boyfriends.
Marcus needs to stop.
I grab the parcel and stomp towards the elevator.
I nearly break the button while banging on it hard.
My veins throb in my throat as I try to contain my feelings.
Kyle gets up to greet me, but I ignore him as I rush past.
I slam the door open without knocking and push in. Marcus is already standing, putting some things away, back turned to me.
"You need to stop!" The bento box thumps on the table as I put it down hard, before tipping off the edge and falling to the floor.
Marcus turns around at the commotion, and I forget about the box for a second.
He doesn't look good. The shadows under his eyes are worse than ever.
His cheeks look hollow, and his face is dull.
He looks at me, a smile starting, before his eyes drift to the box on the floor, contents smashed and spilled everywhere. The smile dims, and his face becomes a mask—empty of all expression.
I bite my lip as I see how it looks–like I threw the box to the floor.
I open my mouth to apologise, but he beats me to it. He walks around his desk to stand in front of me. His hands reach for me, as if to check if I'm okay before hovering to a stop a few inches away.
"Are you alright?" His voice is soft.
I nod—because words refuse to come.
"I was headed to you––I wanted to say goodbye before leaving." His voice is still low, like he's afraid he might scare me away. He stares at the floor––where the smashed food lies.
"I guess you really don't like it."
Goodbye?
I inhale deeply to ensure my voice is calm and steady. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean for it to—" I pause to gather my thoughts.
Maybe it's for the best. "I told you, you don't owe me. You don't have to send me food and candies. There's nothing between us—no debt, no relationship."
I force myself to say the words, even though they leave a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
"Please, just leave me alone."
He goes completely still. His eyes remain lowered as he bends and starts clearing the floor himself.
Shame burns in me.
I bend to help him clean up but he raises a hand to stop me.
"I've got this." His voice is devoid of any feeling. "I didn't do this because of any sense of debt. I just like knowing you're well fed and taken care of. But I can understand how it might have made you uncomfortable.
"I'll stop."
I open my mouth before snapping it shut. Why do I feel like the villain right now?
I chew on my lip, thinking of something to say.
"Does my presence make you uncomfortable too?" Marcus asks in that same emotionless voice.
"I—" I don't know how to respond. It does and it doesn't.
I can't help but look for him, and yet it hurts when I find him.
His care reminds me of all the things I want that I cannot have.
His blue eyes make me happy and sad at the same time—and I'm afraid if I let myself give in, I'll drown forever, unable to save myself.
He smiles, wistful and a little broken. "I get it. I really do."
He finally looks me in the eye, and the depth of emotion in them takes my breath away.
"I'm going to London for the week—I have meetings set up with some of those studios you listed, and a few others have shown interest and requested meetings as well.
"I... wasn't sending you these things out of obligation. They've been the only bright spots in my week, and I enjoyed putting these things together for you.
"Seeing you well... makes me feel safe and happy."
He lowers his eyes again, and his shoulders droop. "I'll desist for this week, since you're clearly uncomfortable, and I don't want to upset you.
"In the meanwhile, can you think about letting me continue when I return? I'll come up with a way to address the rumors without implicating you.
"Please...think about it at least."
I just stare at him, unable to respond. He waits for many seconds, before nodding in resignation.
Eventually, he smiles again––genuine––and sad.
"I'll see you in a week. I'll miss you. Take care of yourself."
He dumps the shattered bento box and its contents into the trash.
My chest twists—it feels like I made him trash his feelings.
He wipes his hands on paper napkins before grabbing his laptop bag and heading to the door.
"See you."
His smile is gentle as he closes the door behind him.
His final goodbye rings in my ears long after he's left.
I stand in frozen silence, trying to convince myself that I didn't make a mistake in rejecting him.