“He was lying,” Luke murmured back. “He didn’t want anyone to ask.”
“About the PTO?”
“No, about the investors.”
She needed the place not to fall apart long enough for her to get the marketing experience to parlay into another job. But there did seem to be an obvious solution to multiple problems here, if only she could win Brad’s trust.
Brad’s biscuit slid into the eight-point zone and he preened. Morgan cheered. Why not? It was dorky, but winning was fun and she wanted him to like her.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asked Luke, grateful that the music and the sound of other teams cheering echoed off the wood courts.
He raised an eyebrow, smiling. Her heart fluttered. Was it so bad to enjoy a cute smile? Yes, her mother would have reminded her that he was a demon, but her mother also would have said shuffleboard was stupid.
“Not a miracle,” she said quickly. “Can you tell me what else Brad wants? Besides investors?”
“He really, really wants to win this shuffleboard game,” Luke offered.
That wasn’t much of a hint. It was easy enough to tell from how intensely Brad was staring at the court. Vijay’s black biscuit slid right into Brad’s yellow one, knocking it out of the triangle entirely before sliding to a stop neatly in Team One’s ten-point zone. Team Four burst into cheers. Brad glared before forcing his face back to neutral and clapping with ill grace. It wasn’t even like Brad needed a PTO day. He was the CEO: he could take a day off any time he wanted and no one would say anything. It was inherent in the personality of the type of person who became a CEO in the first place, she guessed. He couldn’t stand to lose. But was that a sin worthy of losing one’s soul?
“It wouldn’t be hard to ensure the win,” Luke offered.
Morgan shook her head. “It wouldn’t get us anything. He’d never believe he hadn’t won on his own.”
Before Morgan could ask for something a little more useful, Hayley prodded her. It was her turn, she realized with a start. She lined up her shot and gave the biscuit a push. She didn’t want to end up in the penalty zone, so she didn’t push too hard. The court was thoroughly waxed, the biscuits seemed to slide very easily. She shouldn’t have worried. She’d completely miscalculated and the poor puck didn’t even make it across the dead line. Oops.
“What else does he want?” she whispered when she got back to Luke.
He sighed. “Umm. A… I don’t know even know what this means. A byline inForbes? And for other CEOs to react to his LinkedIn post about the byline inForbes?”
Forbeswas a magazine. And it was familiar. Why was it familiar?
One of the developers—Josh? Justin? She couldn’t tellthem apart, and they were standing right there in nearly identical ironic t-shirts; maybe if she’d understood the programming jokes emblazoned on them, she’d have been able to keep them straight—hit his own biscuit into the eight-point zone, increasing their lead. Brad’s eyes narrowed.
He seemed to walk through life with the assumption that he had a right to expect to get the things he wanted, while she didn’t feel entitled to even want things. It all seemed so petty, compared to what her mother had always faced. How much of her feeling like she didn’t deserve things was because her own skills felt petty and small as well? But Brad couldn’t slay a zombie, and he still felt like he deserved success. He just went for it. So could she.
She flicked through LinkedIn on her phone, searching. There, she did have a connection atForbes. Stavrula. Who was that? She remembered and winced. Well, it would be a bit humiliating. Maybe. After all, the girl she remembered playing duck-duck-cockatrice with on the playground also ended up at a job in the mundane world the same as Morgan, despite going on to Pendragon Prep. She imagined that sphinxes made very good investigative reporters, especially now, when Zoom calls could be shoulders down. And as journalism contracted, even an excellent interviewer could find themselves happy to get any reporter job available.
She sidled up next to Brad.
“Need to work a bit on that push,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He really was upset not to be winning.
“Oh, I’m just getting warmed up,” she tried to bluster the way he did. It sounded fake to her ears, but she’d fake it until she could make it for once. “I was hoping to make a proposalwhile we’re waiting for our next turns. You know how I’ve taken over temporarily? For, ah, for Tim?”
It still felt weird to say his name.
“Oh?” For a moment, he looked genuinely confused. Then the pleasantness was back and she couldn’t tell whether he’d remembered or decided to bluff. “Right, right. Great of you to step up there, real team-player material.”
“That’s me,” she said, smiling her best. “I was thinking—we should really try to raise your PR profile, you know, more thought leadership, get your name out there. I happen to know someone who helps run theForbesCouncils. It’s invite-only, of course, but Stavrula and I go way back and you’re obviously such a luminary in your space…”
She suddenly had his full attention.
“Jim never seemed to be able to make any headway with them,” Brad said.
It took her a moment to realize he meant Tim. “Well, let me see what I can do.”
He looked at her speculatively, then Hayley tugged his sleeve and they walked around to the other side of the court to take the next set of turns in the opposite direction.
She went back to her new friend behind the bar. It had been a nice drink, but shuffleboard was turning out to have higher stakes than she’d expected and she needed to keep her wits about her. “Can I get a seltzer with lime and whatever other fruit you can stick in it?”
