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“No.” Carol looks between us. “But it’s true that our rivals rely predominantly on athlete endorsements.”
“I really think there’s a better way to do this,” I tell her.
Carol is quiet for a few seconds, as if weighing her options. I hold my breath, waiting, as do the other three.
Finally, she gives a brisk, no-nonsense nod.
“I think you’re right,” she says, much to my instant relief and Hannah’s visible chagrin. “This still has the potential to work. But we’re going to need to push hard, because Hannah had a point—those engagement numbers could be better.”
She stands up from the table, nodding at all of us.
“Okay, team. Here’s what’s going to happen. Sophie, I want you to push this angle. I want three suggestions for a slight course-correction on my desk by the end of the week. The rest of you, help Sophie as needed, and keep running social.”
I glance—somewhat smugly, I’ll admit—over at Hannah. God, if looks could kill.
Mostly, though, I’m just relieved. I haven’t completely failed yet. Although I can hear the implicit fact in Carol’s no-nonsense tone: this is my campaign’s last shot. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work, and Carol will move on to the next idea.
Which, of course, is Hannah’s.
I can’t screw this up. Not this time. I know it can work—every ounce of my knowledge and experience has me convinced—but it’s going to take everything I’ve got. Extra hours in the office. Working from home. The whole nine yards.
Carol collects her things and leaves the conference room. As soon as she does, Mark and Andrea both look at me expectantly.
“So, what’s our move right now?” Andrea asks.
“I need today to come up with a new game plan,” I tell her. “Just run social like Carol said, and I’ll come find you if I need anything.”
“Got it.” Andrea gives me a supportive smile, and Mark flashes me a thumbs up as they scoop up their laptops and documents from the table. It’s nice to know that they’re on my side, at the very least—like coworkers are supposed to be.
I start to pack up, too—more slowly, turning over the meeting in my mind. This is a chance to get back on top and prove that I’m a team player.
As I’m tucking a file folder into my bag, I hear Hannah’s snide voice from across the room. She speaks almost under her breath, so I can’t quite make out what she’s saying, but I think I hear something along the lines of “banging the boss.”
“Excuse me?” I snatch up my bag, straightening my posture. “What was that?”
“Oh.” Hannah blinks at me innocently. “I just said that maybe if you weren’t so busy banging the boss, you could do your job instead of outsourcing work to the rest of us.”
For a few moments, I’m completely blindsided. We’ve been keeping it low-key at work. I thought there was no way anyone could have found out about me and Declan. But we haven’t been as secretive about our relationship as we used to be, so I guess it’s not impossible that someone managed to overhear something.
An office can really be a gossip mill too, once the information is out. I guess it was only a matter of time before this came up.
With dignity, I say, “What I do in my private life doesn’t matter here. ”
Hannah rolls her eyes, scoffing. “Whatever.”
“And besides,” I add, my jaw clenched, “we’re all on the same team. We’re supposed to work together on this.”
Hannah lets out a huff. “I just think it’s funny that Carol’s willing to give your disaster campaign another shot. This isn’t exactly a huge ‘second chances’ kind of place, in case you hadn’t noticed.” An exaggerated simper appears on her face. “Oh—you probably haven’t noticed, have you? What with how busy your private life has been.”
“I believe in this campaign,” I say stiffly. “That has nothing to do with my relationship. I stand by it.”
“Whatever you say.” Heading toward the door, Hannah shrugs one shoulder. She pauses with her hand on the doorknob, turning to look back at me slyly. “Maybe I’ll be his next flavor of the week. Then it’ll be my ideas getting bumped to the top.”
Is she implying what I think she’s implying—that Carol picked my campaign because I slept my way into the company’s favor? It’s so patently ridiculous that I find myself shaking my head.
I’m about to fire back some kind of retort, but ultimately, I think better of it. This was bound to happen. Hannah’s never been my biggest fan, so of course, she was always going to sink her teeth into this news like a dog into a juicy steak.
I stay silent as Hannah leaves the room. As I head back to my cubicle, I glance across the office and see her standing by the elevators. A man in a gray suit, holding a briefcase, waits next to her.
