‘And I’ve actually really been enjoying the event-planning recently,’ he continues.
The tent starts to close in around me as I aim to steady my breath. What was, mere days ago, a trip across a perfect streamto success, has become a murky river of unending torture with Aiden at the helm.
‘There is no way you’d volunteer yourself to work with me full time,’ I say.
Tolerating each other for six months is one thing, but by doing this he’s resigning himself to what could be a lifetime with me.
‘Oh, I’m sure you can’t think of anything worse. Which is why I say we make this interesting.’
He bends his neck down even further, the depths of his brown eyes trapping me in his gaze. I ignore every feeling and focus directly on the man above me. I will not break under him. Not at a time like this. No matter how badly he is pushing me.
He continues. ‘If we make the Summer Splash as epic as it could be– really blow everyone away– get the kind of media attention and sales that not even Evie has experienced– then we might be able to convince the board that one of us is capable of doing this alone.’
‘You want the full job?’ I ask.
‘I want one of us toearnthe full job,’ he says. ‘You have to admit, it’d be better than whateverthisis.’
‘What are you proposing exactly?’
He pauses for a moment. ‘There are what? Six months until the Summer Splash? In that time, show me you can be a diver, not a wader. If you can, I’ll tell Evie and the board that the event was all you. If you can’t, then you go to them and you tell them thatIran it all.’
He says it so plainly, like it’s simple logic, but they’re the words of a man who has never seen sense. A man who is only further proving my point that he clearly does not know me at all.
‘You think I’d stake a promotion on you?’ I ask.
‘With your ego, yes, I do. Especially since it’s a promotion we don’t even have right now,’ he replies. ‘If you’re as laid-back as you claim you can be, then surely it’s an easy win.’
His voice is seductive and cocky– assured that this will work, that he’s moments away from reeling me in. But unlike him I think rationally, and I would never throw away the biggest chance of my life on a man like him.
‘You can’t do this. You can’t just manipulate me into giving away a promotion.’
‘I wasn’t trying to manipulate you,’ he says, steady and strong. ‘I just figured that after our talk Friday night, you’d maybe be up for something different.’
I recoil immediately. The mention of Friday is enough to snap me out of his hold and remind me just who I’m dealing with. I may have risen to his bait before, but I will not rise to something this insultingly low-hanging.
‘Something different like parting with my dream job?’ I say with a sneer.
‘Something different like taking some risks. And let’s not forget, two weeks ago in that boardroom you were pushing me to give up my job first.’
That was entirely different– he would have been giving it up without having to do all the work. And yes, it wasn’t my most level-headed moment, but, in my defence, he’d already promised he would. Whether the bonus existed when he promised it is frankly none of my business.
The mere thought of that argument sends chills up my spine. The same chills I felt just before that panic overtook my body. I can’t keep going through that. I can’t keep working with him. Especially not for what could be the rest of my working life.
‘Just think about it. If you can make it that long just winging life, with little to no planning and more spontaneity, then I will step aside and sing your solo leadership praises to Evie without complaint. It’s a no-brainer,’ he says.
The air is thick between us, slick with the terms of the agreement as they marinate between our two bodies. That jobcould be mine for the taking if I simply bet on myself. Bet against the man who does nothing but pray for my failure.
‘You would really bet your promotion on this?’ I ask.
‘Like I said, it’s not like it’s a job I had before.’ He shrugs. ‘Plus, for me to lose it, you’d actually have to follow through.’
‘And you don’t think I will,’ I say bitterly. ‘What makes you think I’ll fail?’
‘Your aggressive Type-A personality.’ He smirks as my face scrunches into a scowl. ‘So, is this you saying that you’re in?’
He’s doing something to me. Messing with my brain, making me all hot and bothered in this tight, overcrowded tent. I can’t think straight– everything jumps around, screams then shakes, and I can’t organise it, as hard as I try.
‘I need clearer terms,’ I say.
