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Claire replied, “You don’t.” Everyone looked at her. She shook her head. “You don’t convince them to choose Common Grounds once. You convince them to come back. If someone starts every morning in the same place, eventually they aren’t choosing coffee anymore. They’re choosing familiarity. They’re choosing consistency.”

Avery, one of the copywriters Claire had just briefly met, immediately responded, “Familiarity sounds safe. Comfort sounds warmer.”

Claire smiled. “That’s why you’re the copywriter.”

“What if the campaign tagline is Start Somewhere Familiar.”

“I actually love that.”

“Me too,” one of the designers said.

Mrs. Sinclair looked between them, then back at Claire. “That’s the direction we’ve been missing.”

Claire felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

“Let’s build the campaign around that.” Mrs. Sinclair said. “Coffee isn’t the product.” She looked directly at Claire. “Connection is. Common Grounds shouldn’t feel like a smaller version of a chain. It should feel like the place people return to.”

Claire wrote the phrase in her notebook before everyone stood up.

For the first time that morning, she felt like she belonged. Like maybe she didn’t have to spend every day proving she deserved the chair she was sitting in.

“Hey, good idea,” one of the designers told her as everyone made their way out of the conference room.

Then Avery approached Claire. “That was really good in there.”

Claire shrugged. “I just said what I was thinking.”

Avery smiled. “Yeah. That’s why Mrs. Sinclair likes you.”

Claire closed her notebook. “I was about five seconds away from keeping my mouth shut.”

“Please don’t do that. I’m trying to avoid another complete rewrite.”

Claire laughed. “Fair.”

At 3:00 p.m., she met with the ones who would be designing the ad to hear their ideas.

By 5:00 p.m., she was in deep. She already had a spreadsheet built with several tabs.

Her team would be the ones actually designing the ad. Her job was to make sure everything came together. Meet with clients. Manage timelines. Coordinate designers, copywriters, and photographers. Give presentations. Fix problems before anyone else knows they exist. Keep impossible deadlines on track.

At 7:00 p.m., she realized she was starving and should have left two hours ago. At 7:26 p.m., she stepped into her apartment. She sighed. It was a good first day, but it was a long day. She was exhausted.

She had given up on her heels in the elevator, taking them off and carrying them into her apartment. She stood barefoot in her kitchen, staring blankly at her closed fridge.

She did not have the energy, willpower, or ingredients to produce dinner.

Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door. She opened the door to see Noah standing there, with an amused grin holding a bowl of food.

“Hello?” She didn’t mean for it to come out like a question, but it did.

He smiled. “Good evening to you too.”

She waited.

“I accidentally made too much pasta. I noticed you just got home, you’re probably too tired to cook, and my guess is you haven’t gotten groceries yet.” He held out the bowl to her.

She slowly took it. “Do you normally accidentally make too much food?”