“I would say it’s because I’m worth it but that’s the wrong brand,” I say, squirting out a liberal dollop on my palm.
“But proof that it’s a good slogan.”
“Indeed. I hope that copywriter got a big rise for that one,” I muse as I place my hands on Mina’s wet head. My breath hitches when I feel her lean back and press her lower back against my hard-on. I wait a few seconds before I start to massage the shampoo into her scalp.
“Well, they weren’t working at HNO so it’s possible,” Mina says and her grumpy tone is back. Not that I can blame her. HNO has been notoriously ungenerous with their recent pay rises.
“You know you could go and work anywhere you wanted what with your AD&D Pencils and reputation. I know several agencies who would snap you up in a heartbeat,” I say, and while Mina has shifted to lean more of her weight against my front, she’s not moving, not openly encouraging my erection, although it needs absolutely no encouragement at all.
“But there’s no way I would get a Creative Director role in another agency based on my history of not sticking in one Creative Team,” Mina grumbles and she has a point.
“Yeah, how exactly has that happened? Why haven’t you formed a Team before?” I ask, realising the question is one that’s been bothering me for some time, especially after seeing how hard Mina has worked on the Status pitch, and how easy and fun it’s been working with her.
She shrugs. “I guess I’ve never clicked with anyone before. And often, I’ve always been roped in to work on the bigger projects with Garrett or Mike who aren’t going to be in a Team with anyone in their position. And nearly everyone else is already paired off. You work with Sasha, Faith and Toby are in a Team and then there’s Kwazi and Ryan. There isn’t really anyone else for me to team up with.”
“But you’ve been here longer than most of them,” I point out. “You could have easily formed a Team already.”
I feel Mina’s body tense under my touch. “I didn’t want to, okay? I like working alone. I like to do things by myself as much as possible.”
“But…” I falter, my hands slowing to a stop. “But nobody can do it all on their own. At work, or otherwise.”
“It’s worked out pretty well for me so far,” she says, defensively. “I was the youngest head of the art department in HNO’s history, and I’m on track to be their youngest ever Creative Director if I get the Status lead and interview well. I haven’t gotten that far by being everyone’s best friend. I’ve done that by doubling down on the work. By doing more than most. By staying focused and being consistently good at what I do, no matter how hard that is on days where my head feels like it’s being split open or the pressure on my face, neck and body makes every move I make so painful. That’s why I deserve the lead on Status,andthe Creative Director role.”
It's a pitch. A moving one and when I swallow, it’s around a guilty lump. I stop moving my hands in her hair.
“You know you can have Status. If we get it, it’s yours,” I say firmly. She deserves it. It doesn’t even pain me to think about her having it. In fact, it makes me feel good.
Mina turns quickly and levels a warning look at me. Even with a halo of suds crowning her face she looks a little terrifying.
“No, Charlie. Don’t you dare. Don’t you just give it to me. That’s not how I want to get my first campaign lead.”
“But you deserve it because you’re absolutely right. I have had more leads than you, leads that you should have had.”
“You’re a known quantity. A happier, cheerier, and significantly less grumpy known quantity. It’s no surprise they picked you. That and the fact you’re a white cis man.”
Another guilty lump is lodged in my throat but there’s no swallowing away this one, no matter how hard I try.
“Tomorrow morning, before the pitch, we’ll tell Garrett you’ll be the lead if it comes in. You can lead the pitch too, if you want.”
Mina shakes her head and when I see some of the shampoo suds slip down her forehead, I reach out and wipe them away so they don’t go in her eyes. “If you do that, I’ll chop your bollocks off and feed them to Deborah Harry.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure she eats testicles.”
“You’d be amazed what black cats like to eat,” she says with what I think is a deliberate head to toe look.
“Can we stop talking about dining out on my balls?”
“As long as you promise to honour our original agreement. We both try to get the lead for Status and Garrett will pick.”
“But if what you say is true, about my being a white cis man, and that swaying his bias… Well, I can’t change the colour of my skin or my gender overnight. That means you have to try harder to just be on an equal playing field.”
Mina tuts at me. “What do you think I’ve been doing my whole life? How do you think I got this far?”
I don’t even try to swallow around the guilt blocking my response. These are not things I’ve been unaware of my whole life. I’m a thirty-four-year-old white man who has read a book or two, and I’m well aware of the privileges I’ve been afforded in life. But maybe there have been other privileges I was less aware of. Like not having to think about the colour of my skin every time I walk into a meeting at work. Like not having to think about my gender every time I present to a client. Like not having near-constant pain and pressure acting as a reminder I could fall gravely ill at any moment.
“Charlie.” Mina interrupts my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I say in a half-whisper.
