Page 29 of Return on Love

For a change, I have a good feeling about this.

Chapter 11

“Try not. Do or do not. There is no try.”—Yoda

Monday morning is here and I’m not stressed about what to wear. The walk to the office is fun. I’m wearing sneakers and jeans instead of a skirt and high heels. You won’t believe how comfortable, amazing and freeing this feels.

As I enter the office, I see Ryan entering one of the breakout rooms. I feel a little weird. I mean, it’ll be our first meeting after we had that ‘moment’, if it can be called such, of touching hands. As soon as I think about it, I feel silly. I think it was just me, in any case. There was no moment there. No need to make it anything more than it was.

He lifts his eyebrows as he sees me, then gestures me to join them. Wow! Is this really happening? His Highness just invited me for a meeting with his high-profile coder group, the one he hasn’t let me meet since I’ve come here.

I take a quick peek into my office. All good. My purse and laptop are still there. I grab a notepad and pencil and jog to the meeting room.

“Look who’s sneaking up on us?” Ryan says as soon as I enter.

Did he just tease me for the sneakers? Is he even capable of making such jokes? With me? At me? Whatever. Can this day get any weirder?

His eyes, which were focussed on my shoes, slowly move up. As he reaches my face, a faint blush creeps across his cheeks, and for a fleeting moment, our eyes meet. He promptly looks away, clapping his hands to get attention from the team.

“Eva and I discussed some new ideas. I’ve emailed all of you the basics. I hope you’ve gone through it. Let’s discuss one by one and see which one we want to try first.”

First, he gave me credit. I’m not used to it, not since I started working with Weber. Even Bernard, for all his niceties, didn’t give me credit all the time, since partners gave more weight if he said the idea was his. My cheeks burn up a little. With the amount of burning my face is doing in Boston, I think I might just start a business of providing heating solutions. The team turns to me with a mixture of awe, surprise and, most importantly, respect.

Second, what email is he talking about? Did I miss something? I check my inbox. Nothing. So, even though he gives me credit orally, he conveniently excludes me in the written discussions. Classic Ryan. I know by now I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. I was hoping he he’d change. But no. Nothing like that.

Anyway, this can wait. He at least told the relevant people the truth. And that is what matters. I need to focus on the discussion now, instead of feeling bitter and full of self-pity.

“Your email last week was quite stinging,” one coder says. I turn to look at him, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes. I’m grateful there don’t seem to be any hard feelings.

“I think we needed that,” chips in Ryan. “So, let’s get started. Everyone, your thoughts.”

As the discussion progresses, the room practically crackles with energy. Everyone pitches in, even Molly, who has joined us over a video call from Florida. They walk over to the board, add something, delete something. Lunch arrives and we dig in, eating pizza right out of the box. I haven't felt this excited and invigorated in a long time. Work in a PE firm is worlds apart from this. The sheer joy of creating something from scratch, of having the creative freedom to steer a product in any direction you choose. It’s unbeatable. It’s addictive.

It’s late in the evening when Gabriel peeps inside. “Joe has to leave now, guys. He’s locking up. So, if you don’t want to spend the night in here, you better all go home now.”

“See you all tomorrow,” Ryan says, standing up, stretching a little. I try not to stare at his arms when he lifts them up. “It’s good that we’ve finalised the game. Now, let’s get this ready in the next two months. We need reviews from a few gamers before we can pitch it to Eva’s firm.”

Whispers of “two months?” “Impossible!” “Crazy!” are everywhere.

“Quiet,” comes Ryan’s rumbling voice. Everyone shuts up immediately. “I’ll chart out the production schedule. We should at least try.”

“Try not. Do or do not. There is no try,” I say, imitating Yoda.

The team looks at me as if I’ve gone nuts. Clearly, they’re not Star Wars fans.

“The Force is with us. We can do it,” Ryan says with a little smile. At least one of them is smart enough to understand what I was talking about. He looks at each of them straight in the eyes. “Steve was working on the HuntPart2. We can take help from that.”

“Should we keep the characters pixelated?” comes Molly’s high-pitched voice. “It’ll be faster for such a short time frame.”

I shake my head, but I don’t think I should say anything. Thankfully, Ryan has the same opinion. “No. This is not Minecraft or Terraria. We need to have proper artwork.” He continues after a pause. “Or perhaps we can use some of the character designs from Gambitoore. I’ll email our freelance partners and see how many of them can get on board. So we can get good help for character designs and audio.”

“Part of the world design can be from Moore,” one coder intervenes. “The freelance team that worked on Moore can help me with that. I met one of them at Steve’s wedding and I know they have bandwidth right now.”

“I can help with the basic storyline,” I offer.

Suggestions and solutions start coming up.

“Guys. Quit it,” Gabriel says, opening the door and gesturing for everyone to leave. “Rest of it tomorrow. Please.”

---