Page 6 of So Not My Type

Sophie’s eyes narrowed, widened, and narrowed again. “Wait. Are you saying you’ve never worked a jobin your life?”

Those words were an industrial-size paper cutter that sliced Ella in half. Sophie didn’t have to say any more—Ella knew exactly what she was thinking.

“How the hell did you land a job like thiswithout ever working?” Sophie paused for several long moments, then her lips twitched into a smirk. “Oh, wait… of course…”

Dammit. Sophie just slapped Ella with her greatest fear: She wasn’t worthy, she was incompetent, and she got the job handed to her because of her dad. She stiffened her spine. “I went to the University of Washington for my undergrad, graduated with honors, and took extension courses from Stanford.”

“And that qualifies you tostartas a creative project manager?”

Enough of this. Ella had every right to be here, too, and didn’t need to explain herself. “I don’t think I ever got the name of the school where you graduated.”Shit. She sounded just like her mom, and a metallic taste grew in her mouth. She knew good and goddamn well that Sophie didn’t go to college, because her dad made multiple comments with an impressed voice—which he rarely used—about how Sophie grinded every day without an education.

Sophie’s cheeks reddened. Her soft green eyes narrowed into a steely gaze. “Tomorrow we’ll start early. Seven thirty is ideal. With yourvasteducation, I’m assuming you will dive right in. The brief will come post-strategy, and you’ll want to vet prior to handing off to the creative team. Messaging hierarchy should be firmed. Of course, you’ll know the pixel size, images, and video playback speeds needed for tablet, mobile, and desktop versions, and it’s always a good idea to QA the content prior. The workback schedule needs to be created ASAP. I’m sure you got this.”

Ella’s head spun. She didn’t remember any of this from her classes and was mentally notating everything she could. God, why didn’t she record this conversation? The second she left she needed to write down what Sophie said to research later.

The chair squeaked against the floor as Ella pushed herself from the table. She grabbed her nearly full cup of coffee to toss once Sophie left. “I know you have a meeting, and I need to see HR for some paperwork.”

Sophie jerked her head once in a nod and stuffed her cell phone in her leather cropped jacket.

Screw her.Just because Sophie looked like she just stepped off a stage as a lead singer in a punk band, and was the epitome of everything Ella wasn’t, didnotmean she was better than her. “Quick question. Do you all use agile or waterfall?”

Sophie’s pause and scrunched forehead was everything Ella needed.

“What?” Sophie asked.

“Project methodologies.” Ella lifted her chin, a delicious warmth spreading. “I mean, since you havesomuchexperience, I assume you’ve already locked if it’s sprint based or not.”

Sophie sucked in a side of a cheek.

Ella could barely contain her smile. “I’d love to get your thoughts around scrum methodologies, too.” Oh God, this felt good. This moment was exactly what she needed after the brutal last few months, the terrible morning, and the even worse last hour. She’d show Sophie she was not incompetent. “What about a RACI? It’s crucial to establish that from the project’s start, right?”

Ella’s pulse quickened. Shit. Why did she choose RACI? Responsible, Accountable, Consulted, Informed. Right?Wait!No. Was it Reasoning, Accountability, Consultation, and Inclusions? No, that didn’t make sense.Crap.

“I—” Sophie’s cell rang, and her face screamed “Oh, thank God.” “I need to take this.” Her clunky boots pounded against the floor as she scooted away.

Ella tossed the remaining coffee down the drain and slammed back water. Even though it’d been years since an incident, the heightened stressful situation and caffeine could trigger her.

Thudding footsteps rounded the corner, and she could hear her dad’s heavy, former pack-a-day smoker breathing outside the door. “Hey, kid, how did it go?”

“You cannot call me kid when I’m working. Or ever, honestly,” she snapped. “Really, Dad, I’ll be twenty-four in a few months.”

He tossed up his hands. “Whoa. Is it that time of the month or something?”

Her blazer constricted her chest. The coffee grounds branded her tongue, and her armpits were a dam about to break. “Don’task me that. I need to go to HR and fill out paperwork.”

“Good.” He held his arm out to escort her. “You and Sophie will do great.”

She ignored his outstretched hands and marched ahead.

“Remember, it’s my reputation on the line, along with yours. Don’t ruin the good Northwood name,” he said in a lowered tone. “I’m still not sure this was the right idea.”

Her dad could not pull her out now. She needed this to land before her parents realized what she was doing. Softening her stance, she leaned into him. “I’ll make you proud.” Making him proud was on the list of course, but down low. Championship-limbo-bar-style low.

Top of the list: proving to everyone, especially that snarky-ass Sophie, that she deserved a spot.

THREE

SOPHIE

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