A series of muffled bangs and crashes later, he’s back. “You missed a good party earlier.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” I sigh heavily. “I just wanted to give you a quick update.”
“Shoot.”
“I ended up getting another meeting with Tim’s people this afternoon—it’s why I rescheduled my flight.”
“Oh yeah?” Luke perks up. “And?”
“It’s good news. Basically, they love companies like ours, and if we’re able to get them a comprehensive plan for a V2 launch of the app in the next couple of weeks, we’re pretty much in the running. There’s a few start-ups they’re considering, and they’re only going to choose one for their investment, so we need to stand out. Basically, they want to see our company vision, and we gotta make sure our HR is in order. Like, show them our ‘fun, positive team environment.’ And they don’t want any liabilities.”
“Ah, shucks. No more making the staff work mandatory seventy-hour weeks then,” Luke replies with a wicked laugh. “And forget about that steamy affair you were having with the receptionist.”
“Har har,” I say dryly. Barb, our receptionist, is in her mid-fifties, and is happily married to Roy, who collects stamps.
“All jokes aside, this is great news! We got both those things locked down, especially with the new hire starting next week. It’s gonna be easy.”
My chest feels lighter, like the weight that usually sits there is being lifted for me. Talking to Luke always makes me feel this way—he’s the eternal optimist to my blunt realist. He flies by the seat of his pants and always makes light of every situation, while I have my endless, very heavily detailed spreadsheets and neat, orderly way of doing every task.
“Yes. It’s looking… plausible.”
There’s no need to get ahead of myself and use a word like “probable.”
“It’s looking sweeeeeeet!” Luke’s clearly at that stage of tipsy where he starts talking like a teenage Youtuber. Better leave him to it.
“Have a good night, Luke.”
“You too, little bro. Don’t get in too much trouble.”
For some reason, an image of Annie flashes into my mind, all sparkly-eyed and smiling. I shake the thought away immediately.
“I won’t.”
5
ANNIE
Actions have consequences.
It’s a fact. Whether you believe in karma, or what goes around comes around, or a celestial being, the fact doesn’t change. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I can’t remember exactly who coined that, but they certainly knew what they were talking about.
When I said that I would share a hotel room with Liam—formerly known as “Broody Guy,” “Grumpypants” and “Thad,” and now known as my new boyfriend who apparently gets me drunk in airport bars and saves me from falling over—I did not consider the fact that I was agreeing to share a dinky little bedroom.
A bedroom with zero floor space and…
ONE TINY DOUBLE BED.
ONE.
For some reason, in my mind, I was picturing a large, spacious suite with enough floorspace to turn cartwheels (so much room for activities!) and two large, comfortable beds at opposing sides of the room.
Obviously, I was off in Harry Potter world, thinking of the Hogwarts dormitories.
I stand in the doorway to the microscopic room and stare at the bed, which takes up practically the entire surface area. Off to the side, there’s an equally small bathroom with a shower, sink, and a toilet strategically placed so that, if you want to use it, you have to swing your legs up to close the door.
Oh no. This will not do.
Even I can’t spin this one.