Ian moved on to other lengthy and boring announcements before I could ask any questions. As soon as the meeting ended, Ian sped away to his next appointment.
The room vacated instantly, and Nolan shot me one more glare of death as he stormed out. Kat walked over to me. “Congratulations, I think?”
“Thanks, I think?” I shrugged. Being on the production team on a game originally conceived as a joke wasn’t exactly something I envisioned in my five-year plan.
People who were there for the next meeting streamed in and one of them handed Kat a notebook. She flipped through it and tucked it under my arm. “It’s yours, it’s got a bunch of budget and monetization notes in it for the new game.”
Opening the notebook, I pored over the detailed notes on budget and forecast assumptions and ideas for how to present the information. Small and neat penmanship, a few hand-drawn doodles and quick calculations in the margins. This notebook belonged to a quant whiz. Someone smart, confident, and fun. Was it weird I found this sexy?
“Hey! That’s mine!” A large hand snatched the book from my hands. Glancing up, my terrified eyes met Nolan’s narrowing ones.
As he held his notebook tight against his chest, heat flushed to my face.
While I struggled for words, he continued. “You know, this is actually worse than the alleged mug theft. This is intellectual property you stole.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “Hey, at least it’s still intact, you BROKE my mug, remember?” This intern really knew how to get under my skin. “Someone found your notebook and thought it was mine, so don’t flatter yourself and go blaming me for stealing your stuff. Stop kicking a dead horse while it’s down.”
He burst into laughter. “I don’t think that’s how that saying goes.” Amusement flickered in his warm brown eyes, momentarily distracting me from annoyance.
Deep breath, Melody. “Okay, whatever. I’m sorry for reading it. You can flip through my notebook if you want, but there’s no valuable IP there. It’s got some messy meeting notes and a to-do list the length of a football field.”
He raised an eyebrow and held his hand out. I handed over my spiral and crossed my arms.
“Wellll—” He pulled out his glasses from his shirt pocket and adjusted them so he could peer down like a distinguished librarian. “It looks like you desperately need a new car. Your 401(k) forms should have been turned in a month ago. And you really shouldn’t put your computer and network passwords on a Post-it note in here. Shady people at this company steal notebooks.” He smirked as he handed my spiral back to me. “I’ll send you a meeting request to go over the budget. Yet another thing to add to your to-do list.”
Nolan’s phone buzzed. “Crap. It’s Ian.” He texted while speed-walking out the door, cutting our conversation short.
Rude.
Just when I thought he wasn’t so bad, his climbing approval rating took a nosedive.
Waiting outside the conference room were a few midlevel guys I remembered from the meeting. They formed a circle around me, in a nonthreatening way. Some were even smiling.
One of them took a step forward. “Those things you said in there, when you called out John and Jagger . . . those two loser guys always steal people’s work and get credit for it. On behalf of all of us, thank you.” He fiddled with his hoodie zipper as he stepped back in the circle with the others.
The entire group murmured and nodded. I could hear phrases like “dead weight,” “CEO’s pet,” and “lazy motherfuckers” emerge from the chatter. And I agreed with all of it.
“If you need our help, let us know,” another guy said to me. “But maybe you’ll have enough help from Ian’s pet intern.” The crowd dispersed quickly, like an anti–flash mob.
A slow smile spread across my face with the realization that I’d just won support from a few important players in the office. A huge win in my book.
Chapter Six
I had just put on my flannel pajamas and poured myself a glass of white wine when Jane unlocked my apartment door and walked in, as if she lived there.
My jaw tightened. “Hey! I gave you those keys for emergencies only. You’re not supposed to come in here anytime you want. I don’t waltz into your place with your keys.”
Jane paused at the door, and for a second she made me think she cared about what I said.
“I forgot to bring my new set of keys for you. I changed my locks a few months ago.” My keys to her apartment wouldn’t have worked anyway.
She plopped down on the sofa next to me and examined the half-empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. Lifting the wineglass out of my hand, she sniffed its contents and took a gulp.
Her current like-to-hate ratio was about 65:35 and getting lower by the second.
“Wellll, did you notice anything?” She held out her left hand without giving me a chance to actually guess. Holy fucking shit, she had on an engagement ring that looked like a very luxurious Ring Pop.
“Oh wow! You’re engaged! And the ring is so . . .” I couldn’t think of the right adjective to describe that honking diamond ring without sounding like an asshole. Once you hit a certain size of diamond it went from pretty to gaudy superfast. I needed to say something.
Your diamond would make a beautiful paperweight.
You could cut a lot of glass with that sucker.
It could set forest fires with the right sun angles. Be careful.
“Your ring is so . . . perfect for you!” Bam. Best words ever.
She beamed at me. “Thank you, Mel! That’s so sweet.” She’d never done that before, made a comment so outwardly kind. My stomach tightened, knowing something unsettling was about to happen.
“I was wondering, Mel, since you’ve been such a wonderful friend the last few years . . .”
Oh no. Jane’s asking me a favor. Oh no.
“. . . I would love it if you’d be my maid of honor.”
Her maid of honor? But . . . we’d hated each other for more than 50 percent of the duration of our acquaintance. I couldn’t handle a prima donna like Jane. Being her maid of honor would be a nightmare. How could I get out of this? In general, I hated weddings (except for the cake). I’d never been in a wedding party before.
“Oh, that’s so sweet that you thought of me. Wow. What about Candace, though?”
“I already asked her. She declined because she committed to being maid of honor for her cousin and for her best friend from high school. She said she wouldn’t be able to give me the attention I deserved.”
Well, hell. I wasn’t even first pick. I tried to think of something to free me from this obligation. I couldn’t think of anything. Not a single thing! My mind drew a complete blank. Damn you, stupid blank mind!
She looked at me with earnest eyes, like a puppy at the animal shelter needing a home. Other than the fact that she would drive me absolutely crazy and we might end up not on speaking terms after her wedding, I had no genuine reason for declining her request.
“I have some ground rules before I accept. And some boundaries. But . . . maybe?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh? You do? Like what?”
I tried to think of things that didn’t make ME sound like the lunatic in this arrangement. “Like, maybe, if we go over a certain budget for the bachelorette party, or for buying bridesmaid dresses and stuff like that, you could help chip in?” Jane had a taste for opulence. No way was I going to spend thousands of dollars for a wedding that wasn’t even mine.
She nodded. “Deal.” She cocked her head a little. “Anything else?”
“Uh, well, money was the biggest thing. Um, and dress shopping . . . I’ll go with you and stuff, but my taste is different from yours so don’t expect me to know what you’d like.”
She nodded again. “That’s true. I’m more Valentino and you’re like . . .” I could see her searching hard for the next adjective. “Like, not Valentino.”
Well, that was better than her insulting me. “Okay, one last question, how many bridesmaids are we dealing with?” I pictured myself in Vegas herding a group of drunk, stiletto-wearing Jane clones.
“Well, it’s just you, and Candace said she’d be in the bridal party.” She went from engagement giddiness to instant sadness. “You two are my only real friends.” Her lip trembled as she took a sip of wine.
Oh wow, she just tore out my heart and handed it back to me. I had to say yes. I was no monster.
“It would be my pleasure to be your maid of honor!” I hoped my sudden perkiness made up for my previous jerkiness.
“You’ll do it?! Thank you!” She hugged me and walked to the door. “I’ll call Sean, my fiancé, oh my god . . . I have a fiancé! He wants to get married sooner rather than later, but it all depends on what places are available, but you’ll be the first to know the date. Sean and I are going to have a bridesmaid and groomsman get-to-know-you dinner in a couple of weeks, so you can all meet each other.”
She paused as she turned the knob. “Oh, a quick warning. The best man was Sean’s fraternity brother and is kind of a dick. But you’ll only have to deal with his shit on the day of the wedding. Sean’s doctor friend is the other groomsman. He’s married.” She crinkled her nose and shrugged. “But you’re not really his type anyway.”