Page 23 of Common Grounds

Cass: *eyeroll emoji* You know he’s not my cup of tea.

Vi: He’s not your TYPE. Missed opportunity for a journalism pun.

Cass: Ahh, but I did not miss the opportunity for a tea pun, which is close enough to coffee to count.

Vi: Shit. Well played.

I watch the messages come in on my screen, barely even a breath between them. Do I even need to be here for this?

Emery: I beat you to the journalism pun earlier today. Are you two sitting next to each other and texting?

They respond simultaneously.

Vi: No.

Cass: Yes.

And then Cass again:

Cass: Come over.

I trip over a crack in the sidewalk, my kitten heels click-clacking erratically as I try to right myself. I decide texting and walking isn’t much better than texting and driving, so I hit the call button next to Cass’s name. She answers on speaker.

I start talking before she can say anything. “As much as I’d love to come over, I can’t. I need to work on this pitch, and then I need my beauty sleep.”

“Bullshit,” Vi says. “Randall doesn’t ever listen to more than a two-minute pitch, and you put it together before you left the shop.”

I silently curse them both for knowing me so well.

I run through all the other possible excuses I could make to not engage in this circus tonight, but my brain is fried. Bumping into your one-night stand at a coffee shop and not running away screaming takes a lot out of you, apparently. “What if I just don’t want to?” I cringe, but it’s the best I can do.

“You don’t want to see your pregnant sister?” Cass whines.

“I literally just saw my pregnant sister, and I don’t want to talk about running into my one-night stand,” I correct her. “And you really need to stop using your pregnancy as a bargaining chip for everything. It’s getting old.”

“What’s the point of pregnancy if I can’t use it to get things I want?”

Everyone is silent for a moment, and I can picture Vi staring at her, trying to assess if she’s kidding.

“The… baby?” Vi says, incredulous.

“Ugh, fine. Don’t come over here. But if Randall accepts this pitch, you two are going to be together for the next few weeks whether you like it or not. You can’t hide from this forever, Em.”

She knows me well enough to know, when it comes to men, avoidance is my middle name. Challenge accepted.

***

The next morning, Randall pulls all of us into the conference room again. Usually, he reserves the group setting for Monday pitch meetings only, but based on his sinister smile as he stands at the front of the room, he’s probably gathering us all in here so they can watch him tear me apart.

Ethan flashes me a thumbs-up under the conference table. Josie shoots me a grin that looks more like a grimace. Randall lowers himself carefully into his chair, his eyes trained on me like there’s a target on my face.

This does not bode well.

He tents his fingers, then makes a noise as though he wants to gain the attention of the room. Which is pointless because no one has made a peep.

“Okay, Darlis. What do you have for us?”

I take a deep breath and smooth my hands down the tops of my thighs. It’s now or never.

---