Chapter 35
35
It’s a weird combination of emotions, knowing that best-case scenario you are going to be ripped to shreds by your boss, and worst-case scenario you will be straight-up fired for embarrassing the company in front of its major investors, and yet you’re so deliriously happy you know nothing can hurt you. Feeling grateful to be in the sun even if you’re about to burn to a crisp. This is how it feels to walk hand in hand with Eric toward Catcher’s office. Harriet’s raised eyebrows suggested she had caught a glimpse of our private display of affection in the lift, but when Bancroft’s fingers interlace with mine in her presence it makes my heart swell. Whatever is coming next, we can deal with it together.
Eric’s thumb lightly traces soothing circles on the top of my hand as we pace down the hallway and pass a row of glass fishbowl meeting rooms. The occupants stare wide-eyed and slack-jawed. I’m not sure whether it’s because the news of me punching my ex-boyfriend in the lobby has already traveled up to this floor or whether it’s because we, the famously mortal enemies from rival dating apps, are floating past on a cloud, looking like two cats who got the most luxurious cream imaginable. Either way, we both have more pressing matters to worry about right now.
We make it to Catcher’s office, squeeze, and then release each other’s hands. Giving Catcher impassioned, overlapping and entirely unrehearsed explanations as to why we both sacrificed this opportunity for the other would likely negate our very efforts. We did this because both of us deserve to be here on our own merits since either of us would thrive in this role.
We face the doorway of doom; Eric holds his arm out to knock but then hesitates. Instead, he leans into me. “I’m feeling the urge to say something along the lines of ‘good luck’... but that seems like kind of a moot point now.”
“Something like ‘nice knowing ya!’”—I mime a tip of my hat—“feels more appropriate.”
He lets out a breathy laugh and replies, “Nice knowing you too.” Then hits the door with three brisk knocks.
Martin Catcher, founder and CEO of Catch Group Inc. and the man ultimately responsible for our livelihoods, stares in silence as we sheepishly perch on chairs on the other side of his massive carved wooden desk. His office is a clichéd “old rich man who probably owns a boat” style. Red leather–bound books with gold embossing, sparkling whisky decanters arranged neatly in the corner and framed black-and-white photographs of him and every famous businessman of the twenty-first century littered across the walls. His lips are pursed and his eyes narrow, as though he’s trying to unravel the master plan we’ve concocted specifically to ruin his day.
He takes in a sharp lungful of air and places his joined fists on the desk. “You know, I was thinking of just firing you both on the spot after the stunt you pulled.”
My stomach lurches, as though the fist that hit William actually went straight through a wormhole, time traveled to this exact moment and punched me in the gut instead.
“It wasn’t planned,” I state calmly. I glance over at Eric and watch him lean back in his chair as if this is just a casual catch-up. As if he has life-altering meetings like this all the time. I swear I hear him say “Speak for yourself” under his breath. I suck in my cheeks to avoid a shy smirk of my own.
“I should hope not, considering you wasted my and our investors’ time.” Catcher’s eyes flick between us, waiting for one of us to break.
Honed from years of people-pleasing, my instinct is to give him what he wants: groveling and repenting and begging for forgiveness. My lips part, the word “sorry” tingles against my tongue but my mouth closes when I remember I’m actually not sorry. Not in the slightest. If I could have the time again I would do the exact same thing.
At our silence, Catcher continues, “That being said, Suma and Angus were quite impressed by your tenacity.” We both shuffle in our seats, the dread and stress shifting underneath us like tectonic plates. Catcher continues, “They thought it showed a ‘real passion for the role and the company’”—he finger quotes, eyes almost rolling—“putting egos and competition aside and recommending the best person for the job.”
I would give anything to have been a fly on the wall in Eric’s meeting. Maybe after this, he’ll indulge me with a dramatic re-enactment. That is after we both perform a re-enactment of our night in the penthouse.
Catcher runs his tongue over his front teeth and a whoosh of air releases from his nose. “I was clearly onto something when I said you work well together.”
I school my curving lips into neutrality. Upon first hearing the conclusion of our relationship I vehemently opposed it, but after everything that has happened it is hard to deny. We found it so difficult to be just friends because we demanded more from each other. When we couldn’t give it to each other, we burned out. Working together on Ditto forced us to rise from the ashes and flame together.
Catcher turns his attention to Eric. “You were so certain Miss Hastings would be the best person for the role you didn’t even do your presentation.”
My head spins to the side, catching Eric’s tense jaw. I thought what he told me was an exaggeration. He just walked in, told them I was right for the job and walked out? My heart simultaneously sinks and swells.
“And you.” Catcher turns to me, brows crinkled, face taut with restrained irritation. “If you hadn’t been so adamant we give the role to Mr. Bancroft, I would have disregarded everything he submitted for the project since he didn’t even bother presenting it. However, Suma and Angus were convinced by your words to assess his strategy, and they were very impressed by his work.”
I lean forward in my chair and hold my breath, my heart pounding. Did my incredibly poorly thought-out plan actually work?
“So, let’s get down to brass tacks.” Catcher leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and assessing our tense faces with an odd look of satisfaction. We made him suffer; he wants us to suffer too. “As I said, I’ve seen your side-by-side potential for a while now. After discussing the matter with our investors and the board, I have made the executive decision to promote you both.”
“What?” we say in unison; my heart pounds so loudly I swear Catcher can hear it.
He crinkles his brow in a way that screams “Have you not figured this out by now?” “If my two best Marketing Managers walk into the room, provide equally good strategies with opposing strengths and insist I hire the competing candidate... do you think I have any other option but to select them both?”
I mean, firing us both seems like a solid option too, but far be it from me to bring up that alternative.
Eric tilts his head and asks in a low voice, “But what does that mean exactly?” His fingers twitch on the wooden arm of the chair; it takes everything in me not to cover them with mine.
The deep green leather armchair creaks as Catcher relaxes, a man satisfied with his control over the conversation. “It means—pending the funds clearing—our investors are willing to put forward the capital for two Head of Marketing salaries. We think it will bring a bit of gravitas to Ditto. Having a man and a woman managing the launch allows for a more holistic approach to the rollout. You can divide and conquer based on your strengths, then work in tandem for any major elements.”
“Based on our strengths?” I ask.
“Eric handles bringing in the big fish, the established mainstream headliners who keep the lights on, and—like you set out in your presentation—you focus on localized brand awareness and the up-and-coming businesses to partner with for unique experiences.”
My foot taps the air as I try to calm my body and mind. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think this would even be an option, let alone the consequence of us both going completely off script.
“That’s if... you two are happy to continue working together?” Catcher asks, eyebrows raised.
Be cool: he doesn’t know you’re obsessed with each other. He thinks you’re still rivals. Maybe we still are? Maybe we’ll always be the ones to light fires under the other. To challenge each other to be the best version of ourselves, to be the greatness we see in each other. To be the greatest things we love about each other.
I look to Eric, my heart beating so hard it’s halfway out of my chest. He turns to me and smirks.