by K. L. Brady
"Hmm. Is that right?" Tessa’s heart broke a little. A lot. She questioned everything she'd relished about their afternoon together. Had he taken her to Di'Angelo's as a strategy?
Tessa hadn't sensed Cody's attempt to manipulate her, but she had a long history of being blind to the truth where he was concerned.
"Yes, he explained his plan in almost those terms,” Chandra said. “Now that he's acquired your company, he's stuck. Whadaya gonna do?"
"Yeah. He's in a rough position. I don't envy him,” Tessa said.
"My only hope is to keep the peace. Since we're all in this together for better or worse"—she flashed the Cracker Jack prize on her finger—"I'm hoping we can all peacefully coexist."
"You're right. A peaceful coexistence is best for all—and I will not be the one to rock the boat. Listen, I appreciate you squeezing time out of your busy schedule to stop and chat." Tessa stood behind her desk and glanced at her watch. "Will you look at the time? I've got a meeting with my creative team in two minutes."
Chandra glanced down at her watch. "11:43? Odd time."
"I'm odd...I mean, I have a couple of stops to make beforehand so..."
"Oh, no problem. I'll see myself out. And, again, my apologies."
"It's not necessary...really." She showed Chandra the door and watched her until she hopped her broom.
Before she could process her thoughts, Mia stepped beside her. "So, what was that all about?"
"She came to apologize for Cody's behavior at ThaiPhoon that night...and to happily tell me he acquired Keep It Real for the tax deduction."
"Nuh-uh, hush! Did she really say that?"
Tessa nodded.
"Well, what did you say?"
"What I said is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is what I'm going to do next."
Chapter Nineteen
Tessa
* * *
After Chandra ambushed Tessa, the Cold War recommenced between her and Cody.
For more than a week, she'd deftly avoided both him and Kyle. Between locking herself in her office under Mabel's guard, teleworking, and cutting herself off from communication with them except pointed emails and text messages, she gave herself some much-needed space to think about the past, present, future—and prepare for the Real Talk launch which she'd planned for the next morning, to her dismay.
Work she estimated would take months had been completed in less than a week. It was too late to stop the project now, especially given all the time her team had invested. But Real Talk was subversive, at least it would appear that way to Hart...and that would explain the text from Kyle.
Kyle: I know you're in your office today.
Tessa: Yes, I am. You're not angry, are you?
Kyle: I'm on my way.
Tessa: Your font looks angry.
Kyle: We need to talk.
Until Kyle's text, no one had confronted her about the rampant rumors or her impending plans. Now the time of reckoning was upon her, and she stood on a path to self-destruction, ready to cross a thin line between misery and regret.
She'd spent the entire morning agonizing over the consequences. Her hasty decisions threatened to change the course of her life—starting with Cody and Kyle.
She blamed K4.
The sweet sound had muddied what used to be clear water.
Unlike Cody, Kyle had never been a source of confusion. His position was clear. They'd shared the sweetest dinner. His words were kind, his heart sincere, and he made her drool more than Ruth Chris's prime rib. He was intelligent, tall, gentlemanly, fine—and tall. Clear water.
Then from the depths of hell (or heights of heaven), Cody swooped in with his extra-large slices of greasy pizza and slow dance to K4 to baffle and confuse her—a state only compounded by Chandra's visit.
After churning over the scene with Chandra in her mind, Tessa concluded it was an enemy attack. However, her intentional malice didn't make the words any less true. Refusing to go to lunch with Cody would've taken the venom out of Chandra's bite, but she couldn't resist the pepperoni. Now Chandra had become an insult to the injury Cody had inflicted on her with his lies about wanting them to become a team. She'd reply to him by releasing Real Talk.
As she awaited Kyle's arrival, she tried her best to calm her nerves. Tessa considered making herself another cup of tea but needed something much stronger— a liquid lunch that included a few whiskey sours.
At once, a series of sharp knocks on her office door startled her out of her thoughts. In a quick motion, she spun around and called for the visitor to enter. She braced herself for Kyle's ire, but when the door opened, she received an unexpected surprise.
"Joya?" Tessa smiled and invited the meek young woman to walk inside. She was dressed in duck boots, a heavy knit sweater, and fashionably tattered and cuffed jeans to fend off the snow's chill.
"I hope I'm not interrupting. You said your door was always open, and I happened to be visiting in the area—thought I'd stop by before heading to Hart this morning. But I totally understand if you're busy."
"This is a very welcome surprise." She had no idea how welcome. "I'm glad you took me up on my offer!" Tessa said with all sincerity. "Please, come in and shut the door. Take a seat. Is there something I can help you with?"
Tessa gestured to her leather guest chair. Joya's long ponytail protruded from under her hat and swung with every step until she sat down.
"Actually, I stopped by to tell you that I'm thinking about quitting the team."
Tessa bent her neck forward and frowned. She couldn't conceal her disappointment. She considered Joya one of, if not the, brightest talent in the group. "Why would you leave? Did I do or say something to discourage you?"
"Oh heavens, no," she replied. "You and everyone at Hart have been absolutely amazing. I could not dream of a better opportunity. The thought that I could get paid to do what I love blows my mind."
"Then I'm confused," Tessa clasped her hands and weaved her fingers together to ease the tension. "Why on Earth would you want to give up your position?"
The sadness behind Joya's eyes was more prevalent than ever. She bit her bottom lip and turned away. Her hands appeared jittery, and she trembled. "May I speak frankly?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"The truth is, during our meeting with you, I left incredibly inspired, but as I looked at the portfolios of the other members—I mean they're all so amazing."
"They really are. I'm in awe," Tessa added.
"I guess...I dunno. I'm afraid my work doesn't measure up. And my deepest fear is that I'll drag the team's progress because I'm so far behind."
"Behind?" Tessa's eyebrows squished together. Then she stood and walked to the front of her desk. "Were you and I in the same meeting? I hate to break it to you, but no one in the room was behind, especially not you."
Joya's head jerked back as if she was shocked by Tessa's reaction. "My boyfriend, Todd and, well, we talked about it, and—"
"And? What did he say?"
"Don't get me wrong, he thinks I'm talented...mostly. He's just not sure if I'm ready...for an assignment of this magnitude. "
Joya's words transported Tessa back five years to the young Cody, who dashed her hopes and dreams. He questioned many things about her commitment to him, to their future, but never her talent. No good man would ever inflict his insecurity on the woman he loved—but a no-good man would. Tessa couldn't point out Todd from a can of paint, but he sounded like an utter and complete jackass.
"Well, I sign the paychecks at Keep It Real, and I've been thriving in this industry for years. I took a close look at your portfolio, did you? Because if you saw what I did, you wouldn't be sitting here; you'd be hovering over your drawing board trying to impress me with new material for the specially abled line."
Tessa struggled to restrain her snarl but revealed a smile despite her best effort.
"Joya, let me tell you a truth to dispel all others. Your portfolio is nothing short of amazing. In
the greeting card industry, you're what I consider to be a triple threat—you can write, you can draw, and you're funny. But nothing I tell you will matter if you don't believe in yourself."
"How do you do it?"
"Believe in me?" Tessa replied.
Joya posed a question she'd never been asked before, one she wasn't entirely certain of how to answer. The instinct wasn't automatic for everyone, certainly not for her. "Can I be honest?"
Joya nodded.
"I found that belief wasn't the core of my problem. It was fear," Tessa said.
"What do you mean?"
"Being afraid of colossal failure and ridicule, of not being accepted—or liked."
Her eyes widened, and she slumped back into her chair.
"Scared that people will judge me on my body of work and think it's substandard. On the other hand, there's a fear of success and the attention and expectation inherent in excelling in my field. I understand it. I lived it. Within my comfort zone, I'm in full control over my little piece of the world. Outside, everything is up to fate and chance."
"So, then, you do understand."
"Do I! You've probably got a tornado of thoughts whirling around in your head, and every day you'll allow this storm of self-doubt to build until it destroys every hope and dream in its wake if you don't learn to control it now."
"You've described every moment and emotion I've felt since graduating high school,” Joya said. "I was an overachiever, but, there, I had set my course; college is controlled environment, right?"
She fidgeted with her hands.
"I could calculate exactly the amount of effort that would produce the desired result—straight A's. Now, I'm clueless. I could quite literally work myself to insanity and achieve nothing that I truly want or hope for."
"True," Tessa replied. "Or—you could gain experience, lessons learned, and someday, everything. Believing in yourself doesn't mean taking chances in the absence of fear...it means tapping into your courage to try. Getting uncomfortable with being uncomfortable. Putting yourself out there, your work out there, despite the uncertainty."
Tessa checked the time. She feared Kyle would burst through the door any second.
"It means accepting the inevitable—absolutely, you will fail at something, but you won't fail at everything. Understanding that if you don't try, you're assured of having safety but not success."
"I know I won't succeed at everything. But I want to be good. At this.”
"And you will. Your job—here, now— is to gain experience and apply your lessons learned so that with each successive try, you inch closer to where you want to be. And if you don't quit, maybe in the next attempt you'll arrive. But, uh, if you don't mind my asking, what does Todd do for a living?"
"Oh, he's a software consultant. Pretty successful, too. Makes the big bucks. He's been trying to convince me to switch careers, move over to the computer industry. He thinks it's more secure, more predictable."
Joya's answer brought all the clarity Tessa needed. She pinched her lips before replying, "I see."
"What? You think that's a bad idea?"
"Not necessarily, not if that's where your heart lies," she said. "But can I offer you a piece of my father's advice?"
She nodded.
"My dad used to tell me that a cat cannot teach a fish how to swim," Tessa said. "You and Todd have different skills, different interests. He can't do what you do or comprehend what you dream. He cannot fathom the vision that the universe has gifted to you and only you. So, how can he judge your capability to succeed in this business—or your art?"
A spark of acceptance glimmered in her, but then it disappeared as quickly. She fixed her eyes on her feet when she should've been looking up.
"If there's one lesson I've learned through all my failures and successes, it's this: Don't ever let anyone talk you out of your passion or your purpose, that thing you're driven to do. The right person will accept you—all of you."
"You're right," she said with a weak nod. "I know you're right. Sometimes my fears and insecurities cripple me. I don't know. Trying feels so much harder than giving up."
"That's the most difficult truth to accept. But giving up guarantees you nothing but regret. Trying offers you the possibility of everything. But I’m not going to lie, it’s uncomfortable. Those who succeed get comfortable with being uncomfortable. And I believe, if you work hard enough, if you're willing to learn and persevere, you'll achieve everything you want."
Joya's face brightened, and her brown eyes sparkled with hope. Tessa knew Joya. She'd been Joya and had stood at the crossroads ready to give up everything in the midst of heartache. Somehow, she found the inner strength to save herself.
Joya came back to life.
Tessa glanced at her watch, surprised that Kyle hadn't stormed in. No sooner than the thought crossed her mind did she hear steady strides moving closer.
"Um, I hate to cut this meeting short, but it sounds like Mr. Anderson is approaching." The hard footsteps stopped outside her office.
"Oh, no. I've taken up too much of your time today. I should return to Hart anyway—deadline. First review's tomorrow."
A slow smile stretched Tessa's lips. "The next time you want to give up something—make it the idea of quitting. You belong here, and I'm excited to see what you do with this opportunity."
"Me, too," she said. Then she made confident strides toward the elevator. "Looks like you've got company."
Part of Tessa wanted to ask Joya to stay; she may need a witness statement after Kyle got finished with her.
He greeted Joya as he entered, and she left. Tessa had never seen his expression, so stern or his eyes so narrowed. On closer examination, a pulsing vein in his neck made her afraid. Very afraid.
"How could you do it?" he asked with bark in his voice.
If word of Real Talk had leaked and sparked this reaction from Kyle, what would Cody do?
"How could I? How could you?" she replied.
"This is wrong. Everybody knows it," he said. "Real Talk is a mistake."
"Why is everyone still trying to convince me that I'm crazy? How would you feel if you put your blood, sweat, and tears into a company for five years, and someone bought it to serve as a tax write-off? What would you do?"
"How do you know that, Tessa? Have you even bothered to ask?"
No, she hadn't. Not directly. But who would tell her the truth? She'd been operating in a state of confusion. Kyle met her anger with indignation, and she hardly knew how to strike back. Putting up physical defenses, she folded her arms over her chest.
"The root of the problems between you and Cody stems from a complete lack of effective communication. You two need to talk."
"We're past that point now, but every decision I've made has been in the name of keeping my staff from quitting and saving my company."
"Saving your company from what, success? Keep It Real needed rescuing before Cody acquired it, not after."
"Does he know?"
"Not yet. But he will soon enough. I just hope the damage isn't irreparable—and, unfortunately, there will be damage," he said.
"There's damage on all sides," Tessa said.
"For what it's worth, he handled this situation as poorly as one could handle it. He ambushed you. You have every right to be upset, confused. This is your life's work. But compounding a bad idea with a potentially worse one isn't good for Keep It Real or Hart. You've got to understand that."
She nodded. "I'm sorry if I've put you in a difficult position...and I apologize for ghosting you over the past two weeks. I've had a lot going on."
Part of her hoped he'd ask her to dinner again or even dessert. She found his company soothing, like easing into a warm bath, something she needed, a feeling she craved.
"Well, I just wanted to warn you." He spoke with more frost in his voice than she was comfortable with. "I should be leaving."
"Are you sure you can't stay...maybe for a cup of coffee?"
"No,
I can't," he replied. "I guess I'm just not that thirsty."
And with that, he disappeared.
If Kyle's demeanor was any indication of what to expect from Cody, she pitied herself. Typhoon Cody would blow through the door any second. She returned to her chair and, once more, fixed her gaze on the snowfall. There was nothing left to do now except brace herself for the storm.
Chapter Twenty
Cody
* * *
Cody poured a whiskey straight at nine A.M. to save Tessa's life. He brooded, still in disbelief. Rumors about her new card line had crept up the grapevine, and now he sat on his hands in his office chair, trying to keep from strangling her with her own hair.
He thought their lunch had changed the dynamic between them. He wanted so much to believe that her accepting the consultant position to oversee the specially abled line meant they had turned a corner.
Apparently, he'd misjudged her in the worst way. Not only had she ghosted him for the past couple of weeks, but she'd allowed her team to create a product that represented the opposite of the Hart brand.
When he visited her office, she had more than enough opportunity to tell him the truth, but she lied straight to his face. Now, as she prepared to launch her latest and biggest mistake, she'd damage the Hart brand while working in direct opposition to his plans to pivot her vision and expand Keep It Real's market share.
To survive the day without losing his mind, he withdrew to his most reliable and safe outlet for his anger. He found a quiet cubbyhole in the old creative suite's darkest corner and allowed his hand to push the pencil across the paper instinctively.
He had no design planned, rather he planned to distract himself until he calmed down. Then he might avoid unleashing the fullness of his fury. An hour later, his abstract mishmash of darkness and anger drawn in zigzags and splotches might constitute art to someone somewhere, but to him, he sketched visual frustration.