“I wouldn’t exactly call it tragic,” I mutter.
“—after your tragic breakup, you each manifested your heartbreak in different ways.”
“I was definitely not heartbroken,” Seth insists.
Natasha barrels on as if she doesn’t even hear us. “And now, twelve years later, you’re thrust back together and finally ready to deal with your issues. Lana, you need to learn to live life on your own. Seth, you need to find a real relationship and settle down.”
“I don’t need to do that,” we both say at the same time.
She looks back and forth between us a few times. “Well, you’re going to. Seth, you’re known and respected for your work in news, but theChroniclehas a news team. You need to try your hand at more lifestyle pieces; this layover here atATFis your chance to prove you’ve got what it takes. You’re both professionals, you know a good story when you see it.” The dollar signs are practically cha-chinging in Natasha’s eyes. “Think of how big this could be. For both of you.”
“Let’s say I were to agree to this—and I’m not saying that I will—what are we talking here? An actual competition? What would that even mean? Terms? Rules? Prize?” Seth leans forward a little in his seat.
Natasha nods, jotting down Seth’s questions like she herself still needs to figure out the answers.
“None of that matters because I’m not doing this, no matter what the prize is.” I cross my arms over my chest and sink back in my chair.
“Even if it’s your own column in theChronicle?” Natasha steeples her fingers together, resting her chin on her hands.
In the same breath, my boss and mentor is offering me my dream and using it against me.
She takes my stunned silence as a cue to continue. “I still need to work out the details, but here’s what I’m thinking: you will each come up with a list of ten tasks for the other to complete. Lana, your tasks for Seth should push him to be ready for a long-term relationship.”
Okay, not going to lie, the thought of coming up with ways to torture Seth does sound appealing.
“Seth, your list for Lana should have tasks that push her to explore being single and living life on her own terms.”
He shoots me a gleeful smile and my stomach turns.
“You’ll each complete one task per week and write one corresponding article, which we’ll post on Fridays. Winner gets their own column at theChronicle, to do with what they wish.”
“Who chooses the winner?” Seth asks with just a tad too much enthusiasm in his voice, like he’s actually considering going along with this.
Natasha cocks her head to the side. “We’ll nail down the logistics later, but let’s let the readers determine a winner. They’re our audience, aren’t they?”
This time I’m the one delivering the gleeful smile. Our readers already know—and, if I may say so, love—me, which means I have the home-court advantage.
“Any questions?” Natasha doesn’t leave space for us to ask any, not that my brain function could come up with one at this point. The events of the past twenty-four hours have left me in a weird fugue state where everything is made up and the points don’t matter.
“Good. Since it’s end of week and we’ve all had aneventfulday”—Natasha pauses, sparing a gentle glance for me—“I’ll be nice and give you until Tuesday morning to get your lists in my inbox.”
Tuesday morning. That means I have three days to figure out how to best torture Seth and find a way to pay him back for marching into my territory, uninvited and unwanted.
Natasha, clearly done with the pair of us, waves her hand, shooing us out of the office.
I brush by Seth on my way out the door. “I’m going to make you regret the day you ever met me.”
He snorts. “Who’s to say I don’t already?”
My mouth drops open and I make a very undignified sound of indignation.
Seth pushes right past me, heading straight for the main office door and out to the parking lot.
I, too, would love to make a break for it, but the moment Natasha’s door closes behind me, I’m swarmed by a mini mob of frenzied coworkers.
Corey grabs my arm, giving it an urgent shake. “What the hell just happened?”
4
