Page 5 of So Not My Type

She lifted herself from the wall and looked in the mirror.Ugh. Her mother was right. She was too pale. She dug in her purse, pushed her emergency nasal spray medication to the side, and pulled out red lipstick. After she reapplied, she checked her teeth, once, twice, then three times to confirm no lipstick stained. She’d never forget the time she’d had lipstick on herteeth at a party and her mother had chastised her on the way home on the importance of having a purse mirror to avoid such embarrassing situations.

Pulling her shoulders back, she exited the bathroom and walked back to the office where Sophie was smiling and comfortable and just…so flipping cool. All5’2”, shaved head, pierced lip and nose, leather jacket, combat bootscool. Ella unbuttoned her suit jacket, but quickly fastened it again as she approached.

“Why don’t we go grab a coffee in the breakroom.” Sophie ran her palm across the top of her head, then pointed the way.

“Sounds great.” Ella firmed her voice, matching the icy tone in Sophie’s.Don’t fidget. Look straight ahead. Keep lips steady and serious.

The office had changed over the last fifteen years since her father started his agency. Back then, the entire agency filled only one floor. But now they were spread out between multiple floors. Even with her memory issues that were particularly bad before her medication adjustment and stint at the Children’s Hospital, she recalled the space was stuffy and had cubicles like the showThe Office.Now this area was reminiscent of a nightclub, or ultra-trendy coffee shop. They swapped the carpet-padded half-wall cubicles in the middle with massive, long white desks, almost cafeteria-style, but with monitors and chrome barstools. Teal lights glowed from under the tables, and wicker-back swinging chairs hung from the ceiling.

She definitely would’ve remembered the breakroom, so they must’ve updated it. The espresso machine looked like they lifted and shifted it from Starbucks itself, a row of syrups lined the counter, and a plethora of mugs with R-rated phrases lay across the shelf.

Sophie stuffed ground beans into a portafilter. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black.”Lies.Caffeine was on a long list of things Ella was forced to avoid. The very few times Ella drank coffee—and only after months without an incident—was normally some variation of double chocolate with extra whip.

“Cool. I’m adouble the cream, double the sugarkind of woman myself.” Sophie grabbed two mugs from the floating shelf and put them under the spout. “Want me to show you how to use the espresso machine?”

“No.” Ella grabbed a napkin from the holder. “I don’t think I’ll be making these for myself.”

Sophie’s neck flashed pink. “Ah. You have people for that, I suppose.”

Ella’s throat tightened. That was not what she meant at all, but hell if she was going to explain to Sophie the potential adverse effects of caffeine on her brain. She might not have remembered everything from their first meeting, but she distinctly remembered Sophie’s same tone from all those years ago. Theyou think you’re too good, don’t you?tone. Theno matter how hard you try, you’ll never be as cool as metone. The one that made her feel like a spoiled kid that knew jack shit, made her fighting spirit burn and the need to prove herself jolt to the forefront.

Ella accepted the coffee Sophie handed her and followed her to the high-top table in the corner. She plunked on the barstool across from Sophie, sipped on the espresso, and nearly choked on the deep, dark hues.Gross.How did people drink this on the daily? The sludgy remnants settled on her tongue, and she discreetly tried to scrape it off with her teeth.

The abstract sloped steel light fixture cast a ray and illuminated Sophie like a halo. Her eyes were a spectacular mix of greens, and Ella shifted her gaze. She’d tried colored contacts once, hating the overlyblehbrown shade of her own eyes. Everything about her was boring, dull, and basic. She knew thisto her core. And sitting with city-hip Sophie, Ella had the urge to up her game.

Sophie checked her watch. “I have a meeting in ten minutes, so we’ll dive into actual training tomorrow.”

“Excellent.” Ella lifted the mug to her mouth and pretended to sip. “I can come in early if needed.”

“Sure, if you want.” Sophie tapped the outside of the cup. “We have a ton to do and a high-profile campaign with an expedited timeline. Not sure if your dad gave you any information?”

Ella swore Sophie added an irritated enunciation on the word “dad.”

“All of this came up sort of… quickly.” She would never let Sophie, or anyone else, know the circumstances of how she’d landed this job.

Sophie twirled the drink, took a hefty sip, and swiped the corner of her lip with her thumb. Ella wondered if the chipped nail polish was part of her whole rocker-edge look. For a quick moment, Sophie’s lips, which were fuller, smoother, rounder than she’d remembered, caught Ella’s attention.

“Anyway,” Sophie continued, “I have multiple briefing meetings today and hopefully we’ll align quickly on strategy and messaging.”

Ella nodded.Strategy and messaging.What the higher-up people wanted for a campaign, right? Who they target—millennials, people with cats, kids. Her brain worked overtime recalling the details of a Marketing 305 course in a major forced on her by her parents. Why didn’t she pay more attention during class, instead of counting down the minutes until she could rush out to paint at the art studio?

“The messaging hierarchy is pretty standard for social, especially…” Sophie rattled off more details.

Ella’s ears grew warm. Hierarchy? Like a pyramid? Or maybe that was what an ad looked like online.

Sophie sipped. “Is this how they worked at your other company?”

The heat sprung to Ella’s cheeks. “I, uh, there was no other company.”

The words seemed to sink in as Sophie’s eyes grew wide and whatever softness that existed dropped. “You didn’t work anywhere before? Like ever?”

Ella wanted to dive into the ice machine. Did she have to say it like that? Like it was the most incredulous, asinine thing Sophie had ever heard of. Ella dug her nails into her palm to steady herself. “No. I was… I was in school.” And now she probably had to explain why it took her six years to complete a four-year degree.

“Did you intern?”

“No.”

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