🥊 Hate or Fate 💕 {Enemies to Lovers}

.28.

The clients raved about our presentation and they approved the concepts for six national commercials (with some minor changes to the scripts). Plus, a full publicity campaign to promote the good that they were doing.

One of them, a marketing director at Microsoft named, Matthew, had a ton of questions for me and he clearly enjoyed debating the merits of a dramatic arc. Our effortless banter made me feel like the smart, capable art director I wanted to be. His thoughtful input (in my opinion) improved on what we already had.

Matthew enjoyed our conversation so much, in fact, he asked for weekly check-ins with me to ensure that the project was tracking to plan. I'm not going to say I enjoyed the scowl on Braxton's face when that happened (but I super did).

Gray and Rebecca presented the storyboards like a dynamic duo. They fed off the energy I'd built up with the group (and especially Matthew) to get them really excited about the campaign and its execution. Then, at the end, Braxton and I led a lively feedback session to ensure that everyone was clear on how to move forward.

The whole thing would have been perfect if I hadn't felt like there was a polarity repelling Gray and me.

If I got within a foot of him, he found an excuse to back away. Neither of us acknowledged the effort we put into pretending things were normal, but I was exhausted after our two hours.

After our triumphant meeting, we ushered the clients out to start celebrating (drinking at eleven AM at our ad agency is referred to as 'brunch').

I wanted to incorporate some of Matthew's comments into the scripts while his words were still fresh in my mind, so I headed back to my office. It was the perfect excuse to avoid Gray and Rebecca's flirting while Braxton and the rest of the team set themselves up at the full saloon-style bar in our agency's tragically hip kitchen.

In the absence of people, I felt more myself. The silence made sense to me.

I inherited my less-than-healthy work habits from my dad and my grandparents. They believed that you found a good job and worked hard every day to climb the ladder. My dad used to tell me that as an accountant he would always have an in-demand job. Of course, that didn't help him much, in the end.

He was a good man who got a bum deal on life. Like my grandparents, my dad probably wouldn't have understood why I wanted an MFA, but he would have liked that I turned it into a (semi) lucrative career. Even if it was a 'higher degree in doodling' (which is what my grandpa called it).

Thoughts of my dad were hazardous to my heart, so I shoved those memories deep, deep down to keep working. I switched on a classic rock playlist to enjoy Freddie Mercury's flawless pipes.

"I love this song," Gray's voice interrupted a particularly lovely vibrato and I glanced up over the rim of my computer screen.

"Me too!" Rebecca exclaimed enthusiastically from behind him.

Her glossy nails wound their way around his muscled shoulders to conga-line into our office on Gray's heels.

I forced the corners of my mouth into a smile that didn't come close to affecting my emotional state.

"Here you go, chica!" Rebecca tossed a medium-sized bubble-wrapped shipping envelope onto my desk with an animated flourish. "You didn't tell me you'd ordered new panties!"

"Oh, well, now the whole agency knows, so that's good," I swept the pink striped packet onto the floor and tried to hide my discomfiture. When I glanced in Gray's direction (under the cover of my hair) he was busy reading something on his phone. "Damn, why do they put the name on the packaging?"

"Oh please," her tipsy giggle was utterly adorable. "Now you've got the equipment you need. Time to find a man that's going to satisfy you!"

I couldn't hide my shock as my head snapped up to give her a look of warning. She wasn't even paying attention to me, having directed her suggestive remark straight at Gray. He had taken up residence on our loveseat again but was trying to show no reaction to our conversation

"You can show me later," she fake-whispered across the tiny space.

"Nope, just replacing old stuff," I told her pointedly. "Literally, nothing to see here."

"Hey, does that place do costumes too?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because CD& R is going to throw a huge Halloween party in three weeks!" Rebecca announced giddily. "Braxton told us we're going to rent out the Kimpton downtown, so, we will have the whole ballroom to ourselves. And you are going!"

The historic Kimpton Hotel was a few blocks from the waterfront and super-duper chic. We'd had a few company parties there because it was a favorite haunt of Braxton and Malfeasant.

No doubt this was going to be a sick party that promised plenty of debaucheries. As far as I've experienced, everything on the show, Mad Men is accurate, right down to the bloody accidents and coked-out depravities at parties.

"Maybe," I hedged, not wanting to think about the dreaded holidays that were fast approaching.

Watching my coworkers get sloppy while dressed like sexy animals and lewd versions of beloved characters from popular movies, was enough to make me ill. Last year, an intern's costume was 'Sexy-Baby-Shark'. Really.

"Open bar," she sang with an endearing grin that showed off her mouthful of pearly whites. "They're hiring a DJ. Plus, there will be face painting and undead carnival performers to make it extra sexy-creepy."

"Sounds like my nightmare," I commented, keeping my eyes on my computer screen to ignore the suggestive looks she was sending Gray. "Or an episode of Riverdale. Or both."

Gray's snort distracted us. His shoulders were bouncing with the laughter he was trying to contain at my remark.

"Well, you are going," she avowed. "And we're going to wear cute costumes that will attract the perfect man to get you over the hump."

Rebecca dissolved into intoxicated giggles once again, this time joined by Gray.

"Good luck with that," I muttered, clacking at my computer.

I know Rebecca only had my best interests at heart. She wanted to see me happy and that was her only motive. Well, that, and sleeping with Gray.

Also, how had a month passed since my world exploded?

Work, and my new roommate, and Elijah's violent outburst, and dealing with Gray had blurred the passage of time. It was minor, but I felt a little lighter. A little less burdened by the oppressive sadness and anger that I'd been internalizing.

"BRB," Rebecca announced, stretching upward to push her breasts out in an appealing way. "Little girl's room."

Gray waited until she'd vacated the room before standing up to approach my desk. His slicked-back dark hair and tailored shirt made him look like an undercover Rockstar, which matched his effortless swagger.

"Isla," my name seared in his tone, like a hollowed covenant.