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When he was gone, I took a sip of the coffee. It was perfect. How did he possibly do that? Staring at the door to my office didn’t answer any of my questions, but it gave me a chance to distract myself. After a few seconds, I put the cup down on my desk and dug around in my purse until I found my phone.
Finally, I pulled it out along with one of the granola bars and dropped down into my desk chair. Peeling open the bar and taking a bite, I opened my phone and rattled off a text to my brother. He wasn’t going to believe this. For the last two days he’d been listening to me complain about Quentin and building myself up for an epic showdown today. He’d been supportive and reassuring with just enough big-brother protectiveness to make me feel better about the situation. I was glad to be able to tell him things were looking up and he didn’t need to worry so much about me.
Sitting at my desk and enjoying my coffee while I scrolled through the news and checked a few of my favorite fluff sites was a reward for coming out on top of the confrontation. Even if there wasn’t really a confrontation. That was just a technicality. He’d shown up with a peace offering and apologized.
I totally won.
After my brief celebration, I set the empty coffee cup aside and dove into work. There was a lot to be done even with the elimination of my presentation. The whiteboard would still be beneficial even if I didn’t haul it into Quentin’s office. Taking out my schedule and prepared content, I posted the first tweets and Instagram posts. Only a few seconds later I noticed they already had likes. When I took a glance at the name on the account that gave the likes, I was glad I wasn’t still drinking the coffee. My laugh at seeing they were both from Quentin’s personal account definitely wouldn’t have kept it in my mouth.
7
Quentin
I had always been extremely protective of my company. Saying I was successful and that running the racing company had been my dream my whole life would be a massive understatement. Ever since I was very young, I’d envisioned my future and known I wanted more than just a mediocre life. Not that my family was mediocre or that they didn’t put me on a path toward anything more than that. Quite the opposite. My parents are quite possibly the most supportive two human beings to have ever been put on Earth. They always did everything they could to make the four of us feel like we could do everything and anything we wanted. For me, that meant chasing success.
From the time I was about nine or ten, my focus had been zeroed in on bike racing. I’d always been in love with the sport. The power and beauty of the machines. The thrill and adrenaline of watching a race. The constant energy and drive to get better. It was something I knew I wanted to be a part of, and my sights were set on not only doing it but being successful at it. That meant after I achieved it, I didn’t want anything to happen that might threaten it.
That included having new people around. Over the years my team had grown from just my family to including several other people, but each of them had gone through a period when I had to get to know them, get accustomed to having them around. In some cases, it took months for me to feel really used to having them there and comfortable with having them be a part of various aspects of the company.
Somehow it wasn’t like that with Merry. Very quickly, I settled into a routine with her. It only took a few days after that fairly disastrous first meeting when my defensiveness reared its head in a very big way for me to be used to her being around. My daily routine and habits even adapted to her being around without me realizing it. It wasn’t until the middle of her second week that I really caught myself adjusting my usual schedule because of her.
I was sitting in my office, eating lunch at my desk as I frequently did, and pulled up the company’s Twitter on my phone. As I ate, I scrolled through what she had done and clicked the heart icon beneath the newest post. Then I went through the pictures she took and retweeted them. They were images of the complex, and I was damn proud of them. But after I did it, I realized just how out of character that was. Not only had I willingly and purposely hit a little heart icon, something I’d only done the day I apologized to her so she would see I was engaging with what she was doing, but I crossed my platforms.
