Page 23 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
Inside, the facility manager gives us a rundown of the rules. We'll be split into two teams, red and blue, each with its own base to defend. The goal is to tag opponents and capture their base. Simple enough.
"All right, let's divide up," Cole says, taking charge. He's always been good at these team dynamics things, which is why I brought him along. "We'll need two team captains. Oscar, obviously you'll be one."
Before I can object, Sydney pipes up. "And Alice should be the other! She's been with Rooted Pantry since the beginning."
There's a murmur of agreement. Alice nods, stepping forward to stand opposite me. Her eyes finally meet mine, and there's a challenge in them that makes my blood heat despite my hangover.
"Great," I say, keeping my voice even. "Ladies first. Pick your team, Alice."
She doesn't hesitate. "Sydney."
One by one, we select team members. I choose Cole first, then our picks alternate until everyone is selected. Throughout the process, Alice maintains an air of casual indifference, as if this is just another day to her.
With the teams finalized, we're ushered into separate rooms to gear up. The vests are heavy, with sensors on the front, back, and shoulders, and the laser guns are bulkier than I expected, with digital displays showing ammunition and health status.
"So, what's our strategy, boss?" Cole asks as he adjusts his vest.
I check my gun's sights. "Divide and conquer. You take half the team to flank their base. I'll lead the rest for a frontal assault."
The arena is a maze of black walls, neon paint, and fog machines, with pulsing electronic music adding to the sensory overload. My head is still throbbing, but adrenaline is starting to cut through the pain as we take our positions.
A countdown appears on screens throughout the arena: 10, 9, 8…
I take a deep breath, focusing on the game ahead. This isn't about Alice. It's about showing these employees that I can be one of them, that I'm not just some cold, calculating billionaire like Little Ms. Perfect thinks I am.
3, 2, 1…
A horn blares, and chaos erupts. My team scatters according to plan, with Cole leading his group left while I take mine right. I duck behind a barricade, peering over to scout the terrain ahead.
Two blue team members dash across my line of sight. I fire twice, hitting one squarely in the chest. Their vest lights up and emits a defeated sound as they throw their hands up in frustration.
For the next few minutes, I lose myself in the game. The hangover fades to background noise as I navigate the course, taking down opponents and narrowly avoiding being hit myself. It's exhilarating in a way that boardroom conquests rarely are anymore — immediate, physical, with clear winners and losers.
Then I spot her.
Alice is crouched behind a glowing barrier about twenty feet away, her back to me as she scans in the opposite direction. It's the perfect shot — she's completely exposed from this angle.
But I hesitate, and in that moment, she turns, somehow sensing my presence. Our eyes lock through the fog.
Without warning, she fires, the beam just missing me as I dive for cover, sending a shot her way in the process.
She laughs out loud. “Makes sense you’re such a terrible shot!”
I feel a flare of anger. “I have skills that make up for it!”
She laughs again, a sharp, cutting sound. "What? Ducking out when things get hard? Swooping in when others have done all the work?”
I circle around, trying to flank her position, but she's already moving. We engage in a deadly dance through the arena, firing and dodging, both of us refusing to be the one who retreats.
"You know what your problem is, Oscar?" she shouts as we exchange fire across a narrow corridor. "You think everything can be bought!"
I duck as her shot whizzes over my head. "And you think everything revolves around your hurt feelings! News flash – not everything is about you, Alice."
It’s a low blow, but I don’t care. Right now, all that matters is making her eat her words.
She emerges from behind a pillar, firing rapidly. I roll to the side, coming up on one knee to return fire. "If you didn’t believe in our startup, you could have just said so!”
Is that what she really thinks? That I left her just for a job? Not because her rejection broke my heart in two, and there was no going back from the line I’d crossed?
