Page 10 of Knocked Up by the Bratva

Maeve frowns. “You don’t know that. Maybe he’s thinking about you too.”

I shake my head. “Doubt it. He’s not the type to settle down. I’m not the type to get involved in something that’s not going anywhere.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re overthinking it,” Maeve says, hopping off the desk. “If you’re not ready to deal with him, that’s fine. Just don’t let it mess with your head. You’ve got this internship, and you’re killing it here. Focus on that.”

I nod, appreciating her support. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” she winks, walking away.

I try to return my focus to the screen, but my mind is still scattered. Maybe Maeve is right. I am overthinking it. What happened with Timur was amazing, but that’s all it was. A moment. A night. I need to move on.

I take a deep breath and start typing, determined to lose myself in work. Even as I do, the thought of Timur lingers at the back of my mind, like a shadow I can’t quite shake.

***

The next day, I’m sitting at my desk, staring at the computer screen, trying to get my mind off everything else and focus on work. Social media posts aren’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world, but they’re my responsibility, and I’m determined to make the best of this internship. The marketing team is big, and I’ve mostly flown under the radar so far, which is fine with me. I’m still learning the ropes, and I don’t need the extra attention.

Just as I’m about to post the latest update, I hear my name.

“Jennifer?”

I glance up, surprised to see none other than Liam Russel, the head of the entire marketing department, standing at the entrance to the office. He never addresses anyone directly, much less someone as low on the totem pole as me. A few people turn their heads in my direction, and I can feel the weight of their stares. Great. Did I mess something up?

“Jennifer Jewels, right?” he asks, looking directly at me.

I swallow hard, trying to stay calm. “Yes, that’s me.”

He steps farther into the room, his gaze sweeping over me, making me feel like I’m being examined. I don’t think he’s ever even noticed me before. The team is pretty large, and I’m just an intern. Why would the head of marketing care about what I’m doing?

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks.

My heart sinks. Oh no, this has to be bad. My mind races as I try to think of what I could’ve possibly screwed up. Thesocial media posts I was in charge of were fine, right? I didn’t make any glaring mistakes, did I? They weren’t that bad. Maybe one or two typos, but nothing catastrophic. Still, my pulse quickens, and I can feel a bead of sweat forming on my forehead.

I stand up, smoothing down my skirt as I walk over to him. “Sure, Mr. Russel.”

He’s got that mysterious expression on his face—the kind that could either mean you’re in serious trouble or something completely different. Everyone’s watching now, and the tension in the air is thick.

He looks me up and down for a moment, and I fight the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. “I’ve been looking for you,” he finally says, his tone still unreadable.

My heart skips a beat. Why would he be looking for me? Did someone complain about my work? Did I miss a deadline? Before I can ask, he continues.

“I’ve been reviewing the metrics on our latest social media campaigns, the ones you’ve been running,” he says. “I have to say, I’m impressed.”

I blink, taken aback. Wait—did he just say he’s impressed?

“You’ve done an exceptional job,” he adds, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Your posts generated a significant number of leads. In fact, we haven’t seen this kind of response in a long time. The engagement metrics spiked overnight. It’s not something that happens usually, and you’re the one responsible.”

I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. “Thank you, sir,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

Suddenly, the office bursts into applause. I hadn’t even noticed that everyone had been listening in, and now they’recongratulating me. A few people smile in my direction, and I can’t help but smile back, feeling a mixture of relief and pride. I didn’t mess up—I did the opposite.

Mr. Russel’s expression softens a little. “You should be proud. It’s a big win for the team, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by the higher-ups. I want you to prepare a presentation on the strategy you used, or if you have any new ideas, feel free to include those. You’ll be presenting with me in front of the board of directors during the monthly meeting. It’s an important meeting—we need to keep the board, especially the chairman, convinced that we’re on the right track.”

My stomach flips. Did he just say I’ll be presenting with him, in front of the board of directors? This is huge. Presenting in front of the people who control the fate of this company? I try to keep the excitement contained, but I can feel my heart racing. This is the kind of opportunity that could make or break my career.

“I—I’d love to,” I stammer, still in shock.

“Good. You’ve earned it,” Mr. Russel says with a nod before turning to leave. “The meeting is next Friday. Be ready.”

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