The Fine Print: Chapter 17

Scott hasn’t answered my thank you text yet and it’s been a whole hour since Rowan stopped by and nearly kissed me.

And you almost let him. Maybe it’s the way his eyes lock on my lips. Or how my entire body inappropriately heats up whenever he gets too close.

I try to distract myself with working on my presentation but I find my mind drifting. It feels weird to not have spoken to Scott for an entire day, and I’m not sure what to make of that. He’s quickly becoming the first person I text in the morning and the last person I speak to before falling asleep.

I might have no idea what he looks like but I know he has a good heart. I’m all about trusting my feelings and there’s something about Scott that tells me to keep trying, regardless of how shy he might be.

I shoot him a text message with my streaming logins and passwords, hoping to get his attention.

If you comment on my Recently Watched shows, I swear I’ll murder you in your sleep.Me:

Once I find out your HP address of course. Me:

I count the seconds that tick by based on the beat of my heart.

Nothing.

I shut off the ringer and throw my phone into one of the drawers of my desk, hoping the dark corners swallow it whole.

During my lunch break, I pull out my phone to find a few messages from Scott.

If you are trying to find out my location, I suggest starting with an IP address.Scott:

And I won’t judge too hard. Scott:

I grin like a goof at my phone.

You’re totally judging. Me:

Me? Never. Scott:

But do you recommend ? Scott:The Duke Who Seduced Me

Shut up. Me:

That’s not nice. Scott:

It’s for research purposes.Me:

Amongst other things. I’m not about to reveal my obsession with Juliana De La Rosa and the TV adaptations of her books.

My phone buzzes.

Of course. You seem like a diligent Dreamland employee. Scott:

Something about the text has my cheeks burning.

Care to share why you have seventeen versions of saved to your Recently Watched list? Scott: Pride and Prejudice

Consider it a virtual safety blanket. Me:

But who needs seventeen versions of that movie?Scott:

The same person who would be happy with eighteen. Me:

You’re unique.Scott:

Unique happens to be my middle name. Me:

What happened to Ridiculously Amazing?Scott:

My heart squeezes in my chest like Scott wrapped his fist around it.

You’ve been paying attention. Me:

It’s easy when you’re an open book. Scott:

Maybe I should play harder to get. Me:

After minutes go by with no reply, I lay my head down against my desk. I’ve scared him away at the first sign of interest.

My phone buzzes.

Go ahead. I suffer from a nasty competitive streak. Scott:

But rest assured, I win every time. Scott:

Tiny little butterflies take flight in my stomach. Scott hasn’t openly flirted like this before.

You sound mighty confident in your abilities for someone who hides behind a screen. Me:

The message was supposed to carry a flirtatious tone but it falls flat. Minutes tick by without a reply and I grow more restless.

Did I push him too hard too fast? It was only supposed to be a joke.

The answer becomes evident as time goes by. Scott doesn’t answer my text for the rest of the day, and I’m left feeling empty.

Maybe I made him feel shitty about something he’s self-conscious about. He might struggle with body image issues or a bad case of social anxiety that I’m only making worse because I’m too curious for my own good. And the truth is, I’m starting to enjoy our friendship. I’d hate to scare him away, especially with how he made me feel giddy from one flirtatious message.

From this point on, I swear to not bother him about his identity. It doesn’t matter. Plus, I’m confident he will open up slowly if I give him time to warm up to me. If I could make Ralph, who hates everyone, smile then I can do anything.

Shit! I’m late! I shove my laptop and phone into my purse before exiting my cubicle.

The warehouse is empty as I run to the conference room. My breaths come out ragged and forced as I pull the door open, interrupting Jenny. Everyone’s heads snap in my direction, and my entire body blushes from head to toe.

“Tardiness will not be tolerated. If this happens again, you’ll be required to work additional hours to make up for it.” Rowan doesn’t bother looking up from his phone.

The dismissal makes me feel two inches small.

A quick assessment of the room reveals no available seats except for the one next to Rowan. This is the punishment I deserve for flirting instead of working.

Great. Fabulous. Today couldn’t be going any better.

“Take a seat or get out.” His authoritative tone rubs me the wrong way.

I keep my head held high as I take the unoccupied chair beside Rowan. The smell of him hits me first, like an ocean breeze I’d expect while vacationing somewhere like Fiji. I scoot my seat as far away from him as possible without disturbing the Creator next to me.

“Now that everyone is finally here, proceed.” Rowan motions for Jenny to continue.

My stomach dips.

Jenny shoots me a soft smile before returning her attention to the rest of the room. “Who wants to go first?”

The group remains silent. No one rises from their chair as Jenny looks around the conference room. It’s such a stark contrast compared to our last Friday meeting and I think it has everything to do with the frowning man next to me.

“Come on, everyone.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Do I need to draw names out of a hat?”

Crickets. No one moves an inch.

“I’ll go.” I rise on wobbly legs that could give out at any second. Rowan looks up at me with his usual empty gaze before nodding. His dark eyes remind me of space—infinite, dangerous, and something I can get lost in.

I set up my PowerPoint with shaky hands. My stage fright has slightly improved since my first presentation, but the jitters still hit me, especially at the beginning. Rowan’s gaze sends tiny pricks of something down my spine. I end up clicking the wrong file twice before I’m able to get control of myself. It takes a couple deep breaths to finally steady my heart rate.

The entire time I present, I ignore Rowan. That’s what he gets for treating me the way he did in front of everyone.

The Creators clap as I wrap up my last sentence, and I feel slightly better about everything that happened earlier.

“It could be better,” Rowan calls out.

“How so?” I clench my fists against my dress.

“What if we changed the entire layout of the ride.”

“The entire layout?” Deep breaths, Zahra.

“Instead of having the roller coaster carts created to represent the dragon flying, let’s have the dragon be a part of the ride. We will keep your mountain idea, but I want the coaster to dive into the dark caves as if riders are escaping the dragon. I want fire, special effects, animatronics, and backward tracks.”

I’m not sure what throws me off more. The fact that Rowan’s idea makes mine pale in comparison or the burst of passion in his voice that I haven’t heard before. It’s like someone plugged him in and turned on his consciousness. His previous scowl is gone, replaced by the smallest smirk on his face as he stares up at the projector. The brightness in his eyes brings out a beautiful shade of honey brown I’d yet to see.

“Backward? We’ve never had a ride like that before.”

“Obviously.” He states in a flat tone that makes me feel like I have the IQ of a pea. “Your idea is a good starting point, but we need to up the stakes. Next.” He dismisses me with nothing but a wave of his hand.

I want to be angry at Rowan for completely hacking away at my idea until it became a completely different concept but I can’t find it in me to be anything but excited. I never even considered a backward roller coaster before.

He wants me to raise the stakes? Fine. But he might need a ladder to reach the levels I’m willing to go.

I raise my chin and retake my seat beside Rowan. I’m stuck sitting closer to him than before and I can only blame the Creator next to me for shoving my chair as far from him as possible. It’s not as if my presentation failure was contagious.

I clutch onto my pen in a death grip throughout the entire meeting. Every time Rowan readjusts his leg, sparks shoot up my body straight to my heart. I’m tempted to go snag someone else’s seat during our bathroom break but that would be ridiculously immature of me. It’s only his leg after all.

Then why do you blush every time his body grazes yours?

My pen stabs through multiple pages of my notebook.

The other presenters go up one by one, discussing a broad range of topics from a couple new rides to a new hotel based on a Dreamland movie. I’m thankful that I went first because with each presentation, Rowan’s frown deepens. He furiously writes notes and treats each presenter like they’re on the stand with his line of questioning. The feedback he gave me pales in comparison to his other severe comments.

There’s a collective sigh of relief as the last person finishes their closing statement.

“The presentations were subpar at best.” Rowan’s voice carries more bite than usual. He stands and buttons the front of his suit. “I want you all to stop wasting my time and come prepared with ground-breaking ideas that leave me wowed. If I continue to find your proposals lacking, then I’ll be forced to find people willing to get the job done right the first time. Consider this your first and last warning.”

The Creator next to me swallows loudly. I glance over at him to find a sheen of sweat dripping down his forehead. I’m somewhat thankful I’m seated farther away from him based on the smell coming off him.

“Until further notice, employees will be expected to work twelve-hour days to increase productivity and creativity.”

“Will we receive a pay raise?” someone in the back pipes up.

Rowan’s blank stare sends a chill down my spine. “Am I supposed to reward you all for being average?”

Oh my freaking God. Did he really say that?

Rowan’s frustration, although slightly understandable, isn’t justified. The Creators aren’t used to coming up with ideas at such a fast pace. To present every Friday on a new concept is tough. I’m even struggling, not that I’ll admit it to anyone.

“Raises are earned, not given.” Rowan leaves the conference room without a goodbye.

We all sink into our chairs.

Jenny clears her throat. “So that was a lot to unwrap. Are there any questions?”

One person groans and I raise a mental fist in solidarity.