Page 68 of So Not My Type

“Assets need to pop more. Increase the shadowing on image two.”

“Rework bullet one from the copy.”

“Where we at with round three and four?”

“Team A and B are working on copy level one and two. Team C and D are joining forces. Going to swap A and C with B and D for a second iteration.”

“Send this to legal, see what needs to change. I’ll set a teleconference with Devil’s team for noon.”

Like soccer players in the championship, they scrammed, hurried back, adjusted, and iterated. Sophie went old-school, nearly sprinting between war rooms, grabbing papers and sketches, and hand delivering to the other room.

The moment she’d make an update in the spreadsheet, a new update was sent her way.

Malcolm poked his head in the war room. “Devil’s approved the background. Main image and copy still needs work.”

Thank God.A small win. She ran back between war rooms, breathless with a grin to relay the message.

The afternoon melted into the evening. Notes, and whiteboard scribbles, people kicking off shoes and eating pizza. She ran, room to room, barking messages, failing to hold a smile. Her throat burned, and her limbs were on fire.

Come on, we can do this. They had exactly one more day. Absolutely no more. Today and tomorrow, to make this work if they had any hope of coding and going live.

6:00 p.m.… 7:00 p.m.… 8:00 p.m.… The sweat at Sophie’s hairline temples now felt like a permanent part of her. She ran her hand against her scalp, prickling her palm, and tried to catch a breath. The team around her, with dark-circled eyes, yawning and grumpy, slogged against the keyboards.

“Lead message is approved!” Malcolm’s voice cut through the tapping, and a small cheer erupted. “Sinfully Angelic was the winner.”

Of all the copy, they chose that one?Clean, simple messaging, which made sense, but was also different than the original direction. It wasn’t her place to judge, though, and she said a quick gratitude prayer that she could check this item off the list.

Everyone enjoyed the one-minute celebration, then dove back into the work. With the new copy, the designers need to flip the graphics and create more imagery because of the new blank space. They used what they had, and tried different fonts, colors, and shadows. Edits and scrolling, and swapping images continued through the night. 10:00 p.m. crept up on them. The Devil’s team was no longer responding, and Sophie needed to call it an evening.

Twenty-four hours left. Not a second more. No more contingencies, no more breaks.

But Sophie was scrappy. A fighter. And she refused to give up—on anything. She would not let her team down. And she wasn’t giving up on Ella.

TWENTY-EIGHT

SOPHIE

5:00 a.m. was stupid early. Sophie squinted into the dark, slapping at her phone to hush the alarm. The shower wasn’t refreshing. Her bones ached, her head hurt, her eyes were sawdust. She hadn’t worn makeup for a week, she hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast in five days, and her outfits this last week were jeans and whatever T-shirt passed the sniff test.

But 5:00 a.m. was essential to get to Ella’s house and then to work on time. On the road by 6:00, Sophie joined the smattering of commuters on the 405, pushed aside all work thoughts, and freed her brain to think about Ella. From that first day in her sharp business suit, glaring with that pretty mouth and pouted face, to the level of grace Ella showed her after Sophie allowed the prejudiced demons to cloud her judgement.

Then her mind drifted to the hot tub, to the golf course, to Ella’s laugh, to the way Ella’s body felt in her mouth. She wanted to bring Ella a cupcake and watch her smile, and taste her lips. God, she missed her so much.

But as she stood outside Ella’s house, her hand balled in a fist to knock, she realized how completely invasive standing uninvited and unannounced at 6:45 in the morning might be.What if they were sleeping?Nah. George was usually in the office by seven. But he hadn’t been there for several days.

Grrr. Nope.She was not thinking clearly. All she needed to do was be patient and wait for Ella to call. She stepped down to the driveway when the door clicked open.

“Sophie.” George’s voice was less booming than normal, and not very welcoming.

Flames rose to Sophie’s face. Did Ella tell her dad that Sophie had banged her ex? Yes, George was Ella’s family, but he was her boss, for God’s sake. But King George knowing about her sex life made her cringe. “Um, hey.” She raised her hand in the most awkward half wave of all time, then dropped it. “You look different.”

Ugh.What a ridiculous thing to say, but it was true. Besides the time she and Ella stopped by and he was wearing slacks and a polo, she’d only ever seen him with a five-piece suit. So, it jarred her to see him in joggers and a zip-up sweatshirt. “Um, I didn’t knock. How did you know I was here?”

“We have alarms everywhere. When you pulled up, I got a notification. I saw you standing there and decided to put you out of your misery.”

Finally, the faintest smile came through his voice, and the awkwardness cracked. “Ah, is Ella here?”

He crossed his arms, and his mouth turned flat. “She is.”

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