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“What in God’s name are you whispering about?”
Oh shit. I said that aloud?“Is the computer all fixed now?” Sounds close enough to what I mumbled before.
“Yes.”
“Great. Thanks! You can see yourself out.” I throw his words back at him, half hoping for any kind of reaction. He offers me nothing but a frown and a pinched expression on his face.
Well, it’s a start.
He walks toward the entrance of the cubicle, taking his allure with him. Maybe I can finally think again once he’s out of my eyesight. There’s something about him that throws me off-kilter, like I don’t know what to say or do anymore.
He strolls out of my cubicle, leaving me behind with all the thoughts bouncing around in my head. I take a deep cleansing breath only to get hit with another inhale of his cologne.
Why does he have to smell so damn good?My head drops into my hands, muffling my frustrated groan.
I recover and hesitantly press the power button on my computer.
Let’s get to work.
9
Zahra
Igive my presentation one last look through. After Jenny’s kind words, I thought I beat back the self-doubt, but it decided to come back with a vengeance.
I groan as I reassess the drawing I created of Nebula Land. While the PowerPoint reflects everything that Brady and I designed together, my sketch proves why I’m an English major. If I was meant to be an artist, I’d move to New York with all the other starving talent and eat ramen every day of the week until I have my big break.
Can I really present this to the group?My skills seem on par with a two-year-old child learning how to hold a crayon for the first time. It’s not like Rowan expects us to be perfect at everything, but my drawings are far from it. And seeing as I have zero skills in anything Adobe-related, I’m stuck relying on my own two hands, which are severely lacking.
I sigh as I add a photo of my drawing to the last slide of my presentation. Maybe if I go over my allotted time slot, I could hold off on showing this tragedy.
Now that’s an idea.I wipe my damp forehead before packing up all of my supplies. “Here goes nothing.”
I enter the conference room with my head held high. Everyone smiles up at me before resuming their tasks, and I take a seat toward the back. Despite the group lunches and brainstorming sessions, I still feel like an outsider. My addition to the team was anything but traditional, and I’m afraid people think I’m being favored because I fast-tracked my way into a Creator job.
Jenny walks into the room and starts up the projector. “So who wants to go first?”
A bunch of hands shoot into the air. I don’t bother lifting my arm because worry weighs mine down like an anvil.
Jenny calls on the Creator closest to her. They stand at the front of the room and crush their presentation on an update to Princess Cara’s Castle. While their idea is nice in theory, it’s just that.Nice. Not riveting or enthralling, and even Jenny can’t suppress her yawn halfway through the discussion.
The conference room door slides open and everyone’s heads turn toward the sound. The presenter stops mid-sentence.
No!As if this day can’t get any worse. Rowan waltzes into the space without a care in the world. Today he wears a gray suit that has my mouth watering and my thighs pressing together. The charcoal color brings out the severity in his gaze. His muscles shift under the luxurious fabric as he settles into the chair at the front of the room.
“Proceed as usual.”
His air of authority shouldn’t be considered an attractive trait to me, but there’s something about the way he commands a room that has me wanting more.
The rest of the team sits pin straight in their chairs as the presenter finishes their speech. One by one, Creators take the podium. The series of ideas all follow a similar pattern—some updates here, some immersive line experiences there. I begin questioning if my presentation is too bold for this kind of setting, especially with Rowan right there.
With each presentation, Rowan’s frown becomes more pronounced. His reactions add to my already fraying nerves. I’ve suffered from stage fright since I was a little kid, but I don’t remember it being this bad. My hands remain permanently clammy and my breathing grows heavier with each presentation.
“Zahra. You’re up,” Jenny calls out.
I rise on wobbly legs. If the pressure I placed on myself wasn’t enough already, now it’s hit a whole new level of distressing with Rowan’s gaze glued to mine.
“Move along with it. I have another meeting in twenty minutes.” Rowan taps the face of his watch with finality.
