by M K Lansbury
He sighed, and Zara shivered as cool breeze in the open space chilled her to the bone.
Without a word, Lance pulled off his jacket, and he held it around her shoulders, clutching it inches off her chest until she took it. “Thanks.”
“You're welcome.” He avoided her gaze as if trying to hide some emotion.
Zara was half glad he'd pulled away. She knew full well she was feeling too emotionally connected to him to pull away if the need arose. Thank God for him being sensible.
“Thanks for coming out with me today. And for being a good friend.”
They turned toward the exit because it felt like something they had to do.
Lance turned to her, an apologetic look on his face. “I mean, I know we’re not supposed to be friends, with being competitors and all.”
“I know what you meant. I mean, technically, we’re supposed to conspire against each other to ensure we crush each other’s business and confidence.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t picture you ever being able to do that to me.”
“What? Slaughter your confidence?”
“Hurt me.”
Zara grinned, biting her lip. The sweet comment made her blush. “And you can picture yourself doing that? Crushing my company and my confidence?”
He chuckled, a devilish gleam in his eye. “If the need arises.”
Zara gasped, slapping his arm playfully before she could stop herself. That made him laugh harder, and he wrapped an arm around her, crushing her lightly before releasing her.
“I'm just messing with you.”
Zara slid into the SUV while Lance held the door open. He walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat. She remained lost in thought as he pulled out of the parking lot and turned toward the road back to the city. The beautiful, open green grounds passed in a quick blur outside her window.
Zara mused about a world where she and Lance could be on one team. What if they could actually allow themselves to fall in love, take their friendship to the next level?
She tilted her head to ogle Lance’s profile. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
She was falling for Lance, and she wanted to continue to fall.
FOURTEEN
The Big Red Button
A massive digital screen counted down the last twenty minutes leading up to the final launch.
The grand launch of Soul Mate.
Zara hurried over to Ally, who was speaking to some friends of Beata’s, and wrapped her arms around her friend. They squealed together as Zara spun her around.
“You did it, Ally.”
“We did it.” She wrapped her arms around Zara’s neck, and they rocked together briefly before Ally kissed Zara on the cheek.
“You need to stop doing that!”
Ally laughed and shook her head no emphatically. Zara knew Ally meant it.
Chet hurried over with two glasses of champagne that he handed to the girls. “This is great, isn’t it?”
Zara nodded to Chet. “You found the perfect spot for it, Chet.”
Zara and Ally beamed at Chet. When they had decided to throw a party to celebrate the launch of Soul Mate, it was already a challenge considering the little time they had. A total of six days to bring a hastily-planned event together and host over 200 guests. Beata, Zara, and Ally had turned to Chet to help them put it together.
“You're in charge!” Ally had announced to Chet during lunch hour.
He had looked only momentarily taken aback. Within seconds, he’d recovered, pushed his takeaway spaghetti away, and had a list of ideas to run past the team of girls that were the brains behind Soul Mate.
The first one had halted everyone.
“I know a former warehouse that’s the ideal venue to host the party.”
Zara’s spoon froze halfway to her mouth, Ally’s jaw turned stiff against a piece of steak, and Beata stared at Chet past the compact she’d held up to check her lipstick.
Zara and Ally had looked at each other, and Chet had caught the look. “You guys trust me, right?”
“Yes.” They’d answered in unison. And the result of that trust was a massive warehouse with its original wood beams and rustic walls, decked out with pale green and white. The wall right across the entrance had been converted into a floor to ceiling thirty-foot tall screen. Buffet tables lined the left-wing of the warehouse, next to a makeshift open bar. The old, rustic, wooden stools were originals from the warehouse.
“It looks great, Chet.” Zara took a sip of her champagne. “It’s exactly the kind of place that fits with the whole image of Soul Mate.”
“Real and swanky and hip.”
“Absolutely.”
Ally chuckled. “To be honest, when you suggested holding it in a former warehouse, I thought it would be like a rave or any other party, but there’s something unique about this spot. It’s actually perfect.” Raising her glass toward him, she tilted her head. “Here’s to never doubting Chet Morrissey again.”
The girls clinked glasses to that. Chet beamed. Zara could clearly see the difference in Chet’s demeanor. The old Chet—always eager to please, always going the extra mile to make sure he pleased anyone and everyone—was slightly mellowed down. A calm confidence radiated in him as he stood with his shoulders back. His hair freshly cut and styled, wearing a tailored blazer that made him look like a force to be reckoned with. He had finally let himself believe that Zara and Ally hadn’t allowed him to join their team as pity but because they needed his assistance.
“You’ve been an asset to this team, Chet.”
“We don’t know what we would have done without you at our side.”
“Aww, girls. Stop.” He chuckled.
Two older people came up behind Chet. The handsome and well-dressed man in his sixties and the woman elegant and stylish both bore a passing resemblance to Chet. It took Zara a moment to realize they were Chet’s parents, and they had just overheard the praise Zara and Ally had bestowed upon him.
Chet grinned at the girls. “Ally, Zara, meet my parents. Mom, Dad, these are the masterminds behind Soul Mate.”
The senior Mr. Morrissey extended has hand toward Ally first then shook Zara’s. “Ladies, congratulations on a wonderful job done. Chet’s been telling us all about this for the last two months, and now here we are.”
“Thanks so much, Mr. Morrissey. It’s been a team effort, and Chet’s played a huge role in all it.” Ally gave Chet a brotherly, sideways hug.
“That’s . . .” Mr. Morrissey was speechless, grinning so wide it felt like his face would crack. He slapped Chet’s shoulder hard, almost sending him to his knees. “Good job, son. Really good job.”
Zara sighed as she looked around the swanky Bed-Stuy warehouse-turned-event-space. It still had the rustic, real feel of the original ceilings and the massive beams crisscrossing the space, but it had been turned into a wonderland.
It was the perfect place to host the launch part of Soul Mate.
“Speaking of soulmates,” Zara murmured in a dreamy gush as Tristan made his way to the group.
Ally looked shocked. She flung herself into his arms. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Boston meeting with the Chinese partners?”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I got someone else to take the meeting instead. Congrats, darling!”
Ally blushed as Tristan pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek and clutched her waist to his side.
Zara couldn’t be happier seeing Ally treated like the princess she was. Tristan was a wonderful, down-to-earth man who respected and admired Ally for who she was. He was the ultimate proof that Soul Mate worked.
What about your Soul Mate match?
Zara cleared her throat to distract herself from thoughts of Lance.
The music in the background soared as the entire wall in the center of the warehouse was lit br
ight with an overhead projector. The campaign video began to play with its original soundtrack, and the guests applauded loud and deafeningly.
Zara stood next to Ally, Tristan, and Chet as the campaign video—a homage to When Harry Met Sally—played amidst applause. As soon as it ended, Zara's heart pounded in her neck. Beaming, she grabbed Ally’s hand. They walked toward the big red button placed near the timer displayed in the hall.
“So it’s time!” Ally announced into the microphone as she pointed at the printed sign on the red button, which said Big Red Button. “Clearly, this is the big red button, in case you were doubtful.”
The audience laughed and cheered.
Ally took a deep breath, and her hand shook on the mic. “Anyone that knows me knows that I’m horrible at making speeches or presentations.” The crowd laughed, aware of Ally’s weakness. “So I think I’ll just read this. It’ll be better for me . . . and for you.”
“I’d like to take this moment to thank you all for being here. Soul Mate has been my dream, and I’m so happy to share this moment with you. I’m sure most of you wouldn’t know, but when this warehouse was last operational, it housed a paper factory. Guess what their biggest product line was? Valentine’s Day cards!”
She grinned at Zara as the guests applauded.
“All of you have played a big role in making this happen, but there’s one person I’d especially like to single out: Zara Rodriguez, our amazing Head of Marketing.” Ally turned to look at Zara. “And my amazing best friend since the moment we met in grade one. Thank you.”
The crowd applauded.
“Come on up, Zara! Let’s smash this big red button together!”
Zara clapped, stepping back. “You’re doing this all on your own.”
Ally laughed. “Never. Come with me.”
“It’s all yours, this moment. Ally, do it!” Zara clapped for her friend.
“Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . .”
The entire hall chorused, tracking the timer that slowly made its way down.
“. . . Seven . . . six . . . five . . .” Zara chorused along, helplessly laughing as Ally took her arm and pulled her to the button. “. . . Four . . . three . . . two . . . one! Whhooo!”
The warehouse seemed to vibrate with the excited applause. Ally and Zara pressed the big red button, and the timer disappeared. In its place, a quick flurry of images from the Soul Mate campaign.
Ally’s voice was loud through the speakers. “The app is live!”
Confetti burst all around the hall from the overhead beams, a blizzard of gold and silver. Everyone lifted their hands in thunderous applause as Ally and Zara hugged each other.
Zara squeezed her eyes shut to fight the tears, and when she pulled back from the embrace, tears were streaming down Ally’s face too.
Laughing through their tears, Zara plucked confetti off Ally’s wet eyelashes, and they hugged, marking the most incredible milestone of their friendship.
***
Beata and Chet stood next to the buffet table. Chet was chattering animatedly to her, but Beata seemed distracted.
Chuckling to herself and wondering what inane thing Chet was talking about that didn’t interest Beata at all, Zara excused herself from two bloggers and made her way across the hall.
As Zara watched, Chet dropped a steel platter. The loud clatter resounded in the warehouse. Beata jumped and tried to dodge the airborne shrimp, and Chet's panicked holler made everyone turn around to watch the chaos.
Laughter rang out, but Zara’s smile evaporated when she noticed Beata’s confused expression. She was not her usual self. Concerned, Zara came up beside Beata and smiled cautiously. “Having a good time?”
“Sure.” Beata smiled politely. But it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Beata grinned again. “Yes, I'm . . .” She sighed. Her smile gone as quickly as it had come. “Actually, no. I’m exhausted.”
“What’s wrong? Anything I can help with?”
She chuckled sheepishly. “Well, can you get Soul Mate into a profit situation by next week?”
Zara’s brows furrowed in concern. “Why?”
She sighed, glancing around to ensure everyone was out of earshot. Zara did not have a good feeling about this. A strange twist of doom twisted in her navel.
“Lawrence is going through some things. He had a few investments go bad. Like, really bad. And he’s liquidating everything he can.”
“Oh my god, Beata, I'm so sorry.”
She shook her head. “We have our health, and we’re happy, but Lawrence is really freaking out. So far, he’s put all three of our homes on the market. The cars, commercial land. His companies. Everything has to go.”
Zara didn’t know what to say. This was bad. She felt horrible for Beata. And that was before she connected the dots. As soon as she did, Beata clutched Zara’s arm.
“I’m probably going to have to do the same thing, sell everything I own.”
Zara swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “Which means Soul Mate.” She glanced at Ally across the hall, who was laughing out loud at something Tristan’s group of friends said to her.
Zara had never seen Ally this happy, the culmination of everything her best friend had worked toward. Zara couldn’t bear to tell her the devastating news tonight. It was like getting the ground yanked out from beneath her. And Zara did not want Ally to feel this way. She’d let her know tomorrow.
“But we still have time, right?” she said quickly, turning to face Beata. “I mean, we have time to make this work?”
“We need Soul Mate to become very profitable very quickly, or I'm afraid I’ll have to liquidate.”
Her heart racing, Zara didn’t feel half as calm as she managed to sound. “We’ll work it out. I'm confident we will,” Zara lied. She wasn’t exactly sure how much time they had, but she was scared of asking. Having a set deadline for when the company would be sold was not something Zara wanted to know. She would go crazy. Instead, she knew they needed to focus on getting huge download figures immediately.
Zara bit her lip. In the midst of the exuberant celebration and pounding music, Zara and Beata stood plagued by Soul Mate’s impending fate. It wasn’t going to be possible to turn a profit in such a quick amount of time. The plan was originally eighteen months.
“Tristan! Oh my god!” Ally’s cry resounded in the warehouse. Zara’s eyes spun in the direction of her friend. The guests were slowly growing silent, and they were also blocking Zara’s view.
Zara hurried forward along with Beata, both concerned about what was going on.
And Zara halted mid-step as she spotted Tristan on his knee. He held up a square velvet box that could only hold an engagement ring—judging from the smiling, sobbing, teary-eyed Ally, who flung herself into Tristan’s arms, screaming:
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
The guests were clapping again, congratulating the couple. The digital screen that had displayed the timer was now flashing with photos of Tristan and Ally together and clearly madly in love.
A beaming smile split through all the terseness on Zara’s face. This is exactly the kind of proposal Ally would’ve wanted—surrounded by her family and friends.
She rushed forward to hug Ally. “Congratulations! I'm so happy for you.”
As champagne bottles were popped and everyone celebrated more great news, Zara’s eyes met Beata’s worried ones from a distance. Beata smiled brokenly, and Zara could tell that Beata was very serious about having to sell. It almost seemed like she was already emotionally detaching from Soul Mate. Her pain was evident on her face.
This night was getting full-on vicious to Zara’s sanity.
Feeling claustrophobic, Zara ran a hand across a damp forehead. Her breath came in short gasps. “I need some fresh air,” she murmured to no one in particular and turned toward the exit.
Her phone rang. She didn’t want to pick it up but ventured to
see who was calling.
“Mom? You’ll never guess what just happened.”
“Zara buzz . . . aa . . . dd . . . shh . . .”
“Mom? Can you hear me? I’m sorry, I missed some of what you just said.”
“Shhh . . . .haa . . . Dad . . . bo.”
“Hold on. Hold on, Mom. Let me get out of here. I can’t hear you. I think the reception’s bad in here.”
Zara pushed her shoulder against the massive doors before the doormen could open them for her, and fresh fall air mixed with the usual pollution of Brooklyn filled her nostrils. It cleared her head.
“Mom?”
“Zara?”
“Yeah. I can hear you now.”
“Zara, Dad’s in the hospital.”
“What?”
“He had a heart attack!”
FIFTEEN
Competitor, or Confidant?
Mom?”
The Bed-Stuy street was lined with factories and warehouses. Three kids, who looked like college students, stood outside the factory across from the warehouse where Soul Mate’s launch party was underway. A beat-up old Ford truck was parked next to the boys. One of them turned to glance at Zara as he dragged on his vape.
Zara turned away with the phone pressed to her ear, walking toward the silence in the street. The party was buzzing inside. No one was leaving just yet, which is just what Zara needed because there was utter commotion in her head.
“Heart attack?”
The silent sobs at the other end made Zara clench her fist in terror. “Mom? Say something.”
“He’s all right. I mean, he’s as all right as he can be right now, I guess. He’s in intensive care, and the doctors are keeping him under observation for the next forty-eight hours.”