Page 72 of So Not My Type

“I’m okay if they want to use it.” Was she flattered? Yes, of course. Ella hadn’t forgotten her completely, in fact she’d drawn an incredible picture of her. Was it a little weird to potentially have her face plastered all over Seattle? Yep. But right now, she would do just about anything to launch this campaign.

“Okay, then. You pop inside, do your thing. I’ll call legal to preemptively draft a document. I’m going to call the client for an emergency meeting in, say”—he flicked his wrist to check his watch—“two hours from now. Four thirty, gives them ninety minutes before closing time to decide, but praying that they will stay late. They want this campaign launched as much as we do.”

Malcolm already had the phone up to his ear before she retreated.

The energy back in the room was fierce. Sophie set the timer. “Seventy-five minutes until speed-round review,” she called out.She captured notes, forgetting everything about a formalized project plan, and made sure all non-creatives were on high alert. A quick message was sent to the web production team, the SEO managers, the organic social people.

“Forty-five minutes!” Her fingers flew at a breakneck pace, and she typed like her life depended on it. Teams of two turned into two teams of four, and everyone made sure they weren’t working against each other.

“Thirty minutes!” Sophie flexed her fingers, took one quick bathroom break, and slammed back water. She rushed to the breakroom, scooped granola bars and chips in her hand, returned to the room, and dumped them on the table.

“Fifteen minutes!”

People stood, paced, interlocked their fingers behind their necks. F-bombs and sighs and a few chuckles escaped. Her mouth was dry, her arms ached. She pushed her thumb into the tendon on her shoulder and rotated it. The timer screeched, cutting off her stretching. “Time! Everyone, upload to the shared drive. Remember, rapid-fire feedback.”

The next hour flew, a tsunami of words and yells and clicking. Feedback flew: image back, image forward, shading on the left, increase font, decrease font, more prominent CTA, too sexy, not enough sex, less cleavage, more cleavage…

And then, then! They had it—or at least they had something to present. With five minutes to spare, the entire team voted, and even though it wasn’t unanimous, it was pretty damn close. They chose the rocker outfit from the Sophie image, the face and hair of the undercut emo, and changed the wide smile to a shit-eating grin. And even though Sophie loved that Ella added the gum wall to the background, the team replaced it seamlessly with the background that had been approved by Devil’s. The new rocker angel had a fishnet stocking-laden leg bent at the knee,her foot resting against the redbrick behind her, and her mouth poised to bite into a dripping doughnut. It was perfect.

A video conference call ensued. The Devil’s team was as engaged as any partner could be, clear they’d been feeling the heat just like the Mahogany and Moon team.

More changes were requested from the Devil’s team—bigger logo, remove the leather wristbands from the angel, change knee-high boots to Doc Martens replicas. Yawns and low energy and empty Thai takeout containers littered the conference room along with water bottles and half-dried markers. Even through the wide-screen monitor, the Devil’s team’s grogginess was evident. Malcolm left at nine, apologizing profusely, and explaining how unfair it was for his wife to care for the baby all day and then again all night. The VP dialed in, the executive assistant dropped off more food, and George messaged a note of encouragement.

Midnight came, and exhaustion seeped into the deepest part of Sophie’s core. Even her eyebrows hurt. She looked up at the screen at the Devil’s team, trying hard to read body language over video.

Finally, the Devil’s Doughnuts creative director smiled and said the word they’d all been waiting for: “Approved!”

THIRTY

SOPHIE

Sophie hugged Maya goodbye, thanked her for the ride to the cruise dock, and looked up at the mammoth vessel resting on the Puget Sound. She’d seen cruise ships sailing by before, but she’d never been this close to one. The ship was as big as a city, the size almost incomprehensible.

Incomprehensible—like the last five days of her life. From the moment the client had approved, at the literal final second, everyone had pitched in—including people not assigned to the campaign. Various project managers covered meetings and consolidated notes for Sophie. The social team worked overnight to get everything ready for launch. The web team coded until five in the morning.

And this morning at exactly 1:01 a.m., the ad launched with minimal errors. Enough so that Malcolm said the team members not going on the cruise could cover whatever else was needed. Sophie had enough lingering adrenaline to pack, crash, and get to the ship.

For the next seven days, she didn’t want to look at a phone, a laptop, a screen, anything even remotely digital. Her irises would shrivel up and fall out if she had to read anything that wasn’t a smutty romance book. Her soul craved seeing the worldoutside of an open-floor concept office. And though she really liked her co-workers, and the cruise was supposed to be used for research, she planned on avoiding the team as much as humanly possible.

After waving off the deck to the cheering people on the pier—a bucket list item crossed off the list—Sophie strolled the ship. The cruise ship horn blasted goodbye to the land, and the sunshine-filled breeze hit her face as she made her way past shops and food,so much food, mini golf, pools, and spas. She was going to get a massage, join that damn knitting circle, and eat buckets of carb-laden food.

At the buffet, she plunked down at a table and filled herself with sashimi salmon, yakisoba, mangos, and two scoops of peppermint chocolate ice cream with shaved chocolate.

“God, this is delicious…” she said to a fellow traveler as she held her full belly.

She studied artwork on the wall, looked at jewelry from a vendor, and read the hypnotist performance schedule. When her belly settled, she returned to her room, and ordered more room service. Because, holy balls, room service was free! She could order anything she wanted, at any time, and they just brought it. Her inner child screamed with delight while her adult practical self tried to not be too gluttonous.

And then she slept. She slept so long she didn’t even know the time. The rocking of the ship was peaceful, like an adult bassinet, pushing her into the type of sleep that seeped into her bones. Tucked away in a dark room, the only sounds surrounding her were wind and the ocean slurping against the vessel. She slept so long that when she woke up, the sky was black.

She wrapped a hooded sweatshirt around herself and slipped out onto the balcony. The sway of the ship put her in a trance, and the saltwater sprayed and misted her lips. She licked the saltfrom her mouth and stared at the moon and stars illuminating the sky.

The tension she’d carried foryearsslowly melted, allowing her brain to wander. For so long she’d chased the corporate dream, and now that she had it, was she truly happy? Did she want it? She wasn’tunhappy, but she was aware that she wasn’t living her best life.

The sound of the lapping waves continued. She retrieved a blanket and returned to the balcony, snuggling herself into the chair. She exhaled and tried to break down the key moments in her life that led her to where she was today.

For so long she’d wanted to find her soulmate. Or maybe, had wanted her soulmate to be dropped into her lap. And shehad. She was ready to be in love, ready to open up her heart, and she knew Ella was the missing piece in her life. But Ella had not reached out, and clearly that meant Sophie felt more for Ella than the other way around. And yes, of course she understood that she didn’t know what recovery from a seizure looked like. But it had been nearly two weeks. Wasn’t that enough?

And yet… she wasn’t ready to give up. Ella deserved more.I deserve more.Sophie would take these days, sleep good, eat good, and properly relax. She’d watch the sea, explore Alaska, and go hiking. And when she returned, she would try again to talk with Ella.

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