The boat wobbled as Eliza picked her way to the far seat, clearly wishing she could levitate and not rock the boat. I swear she was also holding her breath, just in case that helped.
Roka turned to me, but I somehow missed her hand and stumbled into the boat.
“You good?” She grabbed my arm to steady me. It did the trick.
“Like I’m on solid ground,” I replied, trying not to show how rattled I was. I sat before I dared speak again. “Your manager researched our personal lives?”
“Honey, my manager researches everyone’s personal lives. It’s her job. I don’t want to get into a boat with a couple of stalkers, do I?”
Roka settled onto the rowing bench and grabbed the oars with the confidence of someone who’d done this many times before. “Now, tell me why I want to wear your watches. I got the photos you sent and they look great, but I want to know the real reason I can’t wait to strap one on.”
Interesting choice of words.
Eliza opened her mouth to launch into her pitch, just as Roka steered us away from the dock with smooth, powerful strokes that made it look effortless. The boat cut through the water like an Olympic duck.
“Voss Watches has been family-owned for generations,” Eliza began, trying to find her rhythm while the boat rocked gently. “We specialise in timepieces that combine traditional craftsmanship with modern innovation—”
“Hold up,” Roka interrupted. “That’s the corporate speak. What’s the real story?”
I licked my lips, and glanced at Eliza. When she hesitated, I jumped in.
“The real story is I spent 15 years running away from this company because I thought it robbed me of my family, and because I thought watches were old news. But after my mum and gran died, I realised I want to keep the company going. But to do that, I need to make it appeal to a new, fresh, younger audience. I want to reinvent the brand. I want to make watches cool again.”
“Poppy.” That was Eliza’s warning shot.
I ignored it.
“We make these incredible pieces that people keep forever, and hand down through generations.” My hands moved as I talked, and the boat rocked a little more. “I want to push the brand to the forefront in the biggest way, while also honouring the legacy of my family. I also want this company to flourish, and with you on-board, I believe it could.”
Roka’s rowing never faltered, but I caught her smile. “Tell me more.”
“We want to seriously collaborate: not just lip service. We want your ideas,” I told her. “I brought our latest watch to show you. If you join with us, I’d like to bring out a special edition called Roka 23, to match your new album. We’re not messing about here. Ads, photoshoots, product placement, the works. Maybe we could do a special release box of your album plus our watch.”
“The details of what can and can’t be delivered haven’t yet been worked out,” Eliza added, shooting me daggers.
Roka laughed. “I like her,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “She’s got no filter.” She caught Eliza’s expression and added, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hold you to whatever she says in the middle of the lake. But I want to know who you really are if we’re going to work together. Both of you.”
Roka stopped rowing, and all three of us glanced towards the morning sun, just breaking through the clouds. On the far side of the lake, somebody let out a gigantic belly laugh.
I grinned at Roka, thanking the universe she was a normal person and not an idiot. “Do you row a lot? You’re pretty good at it.” Her toned, tanned arms suggested she did. Although if she was in the studio as much as she said, perhaps the tan was from a bottle.
“I work out regularly, need to for my tour. Good core strength and endurance is what you need for touring and rowing.” She lifted an oar. “Wanna try?”
I shook my head. “I’d probably sink us.”
“Believe her when she says this,” Eliza said.
But Roka simply shrugged.
Before Eliza could draw another breath to object, I nodded, and Roka talked me through the switch. “Take it easy,” she warned as I started to rise. “Don’t stand, just slide over—”
Of course, I stood anyway.
The boat lurched to one side like it had taken personal offense to my very existence, and my eyes went wide as gravity decided to make an example of me. I windmilled my arms, probably looking like an inflatable tube man at a car dealership during a particularly aggressive windstorm. Meanwhile, my legs forgot the basic principle of staying upright.
For one brief, glorious moment, I thought I might defy physics and recover my balance. The universe was having none of it. I crashed into the lake sideways with all the grace of a fridge being pushed off a cliff.
The water was shockingly cold, and tasted like algae and a thousand nights out. I tried not to think about it too hard as I spat it out. I surfaced, gasping and probably looking like a half-drowned cat, just in time to see Eliza shoot to her feet.
