Page 33 of So Not My Type

“Christ. He’s the least subtle human in the world,” Ella said to Sophie, who didn’t really respond but drew her lips into her mouth like she was suppressing a smile. The agency was his place, after all—one would think he’d treat the infrastructure gentler.

“Devil’s Doughnuts crew meet in conference room A-14.” He cupped his hands to amplify, which was not needed as his baritone voice already shook walls. “Time to double-click into this campaign.”

Sophie grinned at the remark, scribbled a quick note on a Post-it, and shoved it in her desk drawer.

“Does this happen a lot?” Ella asked as she snapped shut her laptop.

Sophie unplugged the docking station cord and stood. “What? Free doughnuts?”

“No. My dad being so extra.”

Sophie snickered. “Um…”

Ella followed the sweet smell of fried dough down the hall and into the conference room, which was already buzzing with excitement. Red-and-black boxes sprawled over the bare U-shaped table, and the executive assistants hurried stacking paper plates and napkins.

Several staff members gazed at the selections, then puppy-dog-eyed her dad, no doubt waiting for an invitation to eat.

“All right, everyone,” her dad bellowed with a clap.

If he were a kindergarten teacher wrangling kids, clapping would be acceptable. Great, even. But being CEO, the loud snap was jarring.

“During yesterday’s leadership briefing meeting, it came to my attention that the creative team is stuck on messaging.” He crossed his arms across his hefty chest and pointedly glanced at each member, who glanced away. The tone wasn’t completely scolding, but even Ella shrunk against the sound.

“Sophie,” he barked.

She straightened her spine. “Yes?”

“How many weeks until launch?”

“Five.”

His head snapped to Ella.Oh God, don’t call on me. Please don’t do it.

“Ella.”

He did it.

“How many weeks until creative presents to leadership?”

Ella swallowed. “Four.” Saying it out loud drove home the message. The team had absolutely no time to waste, considering the magnitude of ads on multiple platforms. All the bickering and power matches occurring needed to end, and everyone had to focus.

Co-workers shifted in their seats as the time constraint settled across the room. The air turned heavy before George smiled. “All right. Time to light a spark. Everyone, dig in.” He waved Vanna White-style to the pastries. “Sample, share. Get high on sugar. I don’t care if you’re the creative partner, project manager, web producer, or designer. Cancel the next two hours, brainstorm, and come up with some decent shit so we can hit this deadline. Capisce?”

Ella cringed. She’d told him before that he sounded like a dick using the word, but he couldn’t understand why. George rubbed his palms, then hovered his meaty finger over the boxes. Finally, he plucked one from the center and took a hefty bite. “Good.Creamy.”

Sophie’s face held the same expression as Ella’s:Ewww. Ella leaned into Sophie’s ear. “Thank God he’s not part of the creative team.”

A giggle squeaked out from Sophie’s lips before she put her hand to her mouth and expelled a horribly fake cough.

“You can use that line.” He chuckled from deep in his belly.

The team stared in response. Ella glanced at everyone, inspecting if they were passing along whatever judgement they may have for her dad on to her. But most eyes focused on her dad or the doughnuts. Another excruciating minute passed of George droning on about the need to “roll up sleeves” and “pass the baton when needed” and “take care of the low-hanging fruit” (whatever the hell that meant). Finally, he grabbed a second doughnut and waved everyone to the table. Soon, chatter filled the room.

Sophie tugged at Ella’s sleeve and stood. “Come on, let’s grab one before all the good ones are taken.”

Facing Ella was a spread of the most spectacular doughnuts she’d ever seen. And the variety… Who developed this and were they some sort of gluten genius? Chunks of brownies on top, a full candy bar sticking upright with an edible golden spring, fruity colored cereal, bacon and maple glaze…

Ella reached for a red velvet one with black icing and shaved chocolate. She sunk her teeth into it, the sugar practically making her teeth sweat. The shaved chocolate hit Ella’s taste buds, sending a sweet spike through her veins. It had been forever since she had a proper doughnut like this, made with craft and precision. Probably not since she was a teenager and she and her dad took an impromptu day trip to the Edmonds Farmers Market and hopped on the Kingston ferry for specialty doughnuts on the pier.

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