Junk Mail(40)

As the elevator dings and opens on the Wine O’Clock offices, I step out onto the merlot-colored carpet and head straight for Josh’s office. Brody probably put him on expense-report duty after he rolled in late yesterday. A giggle slips from my lips as I imagine him drowning under a gigantic pile of receipts and spreadsheets. That would certainly explain why he’s been MIA.

I knock twice on Josh’s office door, turning the handle when I get no immediate response. Instead of being greeted by Josh’s knockout smile like usual, there’s nothing to see here but the blue glow of a computer screen.

He’s not here.

I pull up my phone calendar, verifying that we do, in fact, have a meeting today. Yup. Two p.m., finalization of online marketing campaigns.

It should be a quick one, considering all the hours Josh and I have already put in with the marketing team. I would be out of here in an hour, if Josh were actually on time. What’s his deal with running late lately?

There’s no point in sitting here in his empty office, so I head toward the conference room to settle in for our meeting. Most of the marketing team is already there, setting up a presentation of the finalized ads. At the head of the table, where Josh would normally sit, Brody is furiously shuffling through a stack of print ads, entirely oblivious to my entrance.

“Good morning,” I say, and Brody looks up.

“Oh, good, right on time.” He stands to hand me a stack of materials to review, then returns to his seat and his stack of paperwork. “We’ll get started in just a minute.”

Just a minute? Doesn’t he realize we’re still missing a crucial part of the team? If he’s not going to broach the subject, I will.

“Where’s Josh?” I scan the room, expecting him to come walking in any second now, coffee in hand, a bright smile on his gorgeous face. And after yesterday’s fiasco, he’d better not be late again.

Brody loosens the knot of his tie as he opens his laptop, dodging my eye contact. “Josh is no longer the point of contact for you for this project.”

I flinch in surprise. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’ll be working with me instead of Josh from here up through the launch.” Brody’s tone is so matter-of-fact, like he’s chatting about his commute instead of throwing a major curveball my way.

No more working with Josh? I’m equal parts confused and heartbroken. The thought of not working with Josh, not getting to watch the way his eyes dance when he comes up with a good idea or intentionally presses my knee against his during a meeting, leaves a hollow feeling in my chest.

“When was that change made?”

I know I’m at risk of sounding a little too interested in the subject, but I think I deserve to know, even just from a professional standpoint. Up until now, Josh has been my go-to guy for everything. He’s handled all my contracts and negotiations, right down to reaching out to me for input on the packaging design. Brody has been more of a big-picture, behind-the-scenes type of guy. A change this major with only a week left until launch seems unnecessary, at the least, and risky at most.

“We made the swap yesterday morning,” Brody says.

The words ring in my ears. Yesterday morning. As in right after I left Josh’s place. There’s no way that’s just a coincidence.

“Any particular reason?”

The knot in my stomach is getting bigger and bigger by the second. I couldn’t live with myself if I found out that Josh got cut from working with me because I made him late.

Brody smiles through his obvious annoyance with me. “Josh came in and asked to be taken off the launch, so I went ahead and made the change. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Of course not,” I sputter, maybe a bit too quickly. “I was just curious. It’s a big switch this close to the launch. But I understand.”

What a big fat lie. I understand nothing. This makes as much sense to me as quantum physics. Why the hell would Josh specifically ask not to work with me? And more importantly, why didn’t he mention this to me himself?

I’m tempted to give Brody the third degree and get to the bottom of this, but one more question out of me might tip him off that something’s going on. Instead, I zip my lips and take a seat at the conference table, filing this away as a problem to deal with later. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover in this meeting. And my broken heart and bruised ego over a man ghosting on me after sex isn’t something I can deal with at this precise moment.

Reviewing the digital marketing campaigns takes about three times as long as expected. Turns out, Brody was totally out of the loop on all the ground that Josh and I had already covered, which means an insane amount of backtracking and re-explaining our choices. It’s infuriating, to say the least. All the momentum we gained on our trip upstate is suddenly gone, and without Josh steering things, it feels like we’ve taken three steps back. And with only seven days until boxes hit shelves. Lord help us.

Brody wraps things up just as the sun slips behind the Manhattan skyline, leaving the conference room bathed in an eerie orange twilight. How appropriate. Both Manhattan and I have been left totally in the dark this evening.

I’m not three steps out of the conference room when I whip out my phone and text Josh, asking for an explanation.

Peyton: Brody said you asked to be taken off the launch. Is there a reason you don’t want to work with me anymore?