Page 64 of Not Safe for Work
There’s only so long you can hold out for The One before you decide to settle for The One That’ll Do. Especially when you’ve got a ticking clock to beat. So, after two more days of desperately chasing a genius, groundbreaking idea, Neil and I decided it was time. We had to settle.
‘Should I change the title of slide two from “Best of both worlds” to “Designs that do it all”?’ Neil slid his laptop in front of me.
‘Yeah, maybe that’ll save this pitch,’ I muttered without looking at the screen.
‘You hate it.’
‘You don’t?’
We both stared at the deck that had consumed two evenings of our lives and roughly 70 per cent of our will to live. We’d been staying back in the office for two or three hours every day, convinced that if we kept tweaking the deck by adding stats, animations and pie charts, it would somehow transform itself. So far, no such luck.
It didn’t help that the Mumbai monsoon had arrived two weeks early. The air was sticky, the days gloomy and everything felt vaguely damp. It wasn’t exactly the kind of weather that inspired brilliance.
We were holed up in one of the smaller meeting rooms by the pantry, the only one that the sales team had not laid their claim on, mostly because it had a malfunctioning AC. I wasn’t sure if cracking the window open had been a good idea—the humidity had made my hair puff up to twice its normal size. Even the skyoutside looked like it was ready to call it quits, turning a dull, end-of-day grey even though it was only 4.30 p.m.
I sighed, running a hand through my frizzy hair. ‘You know what? It’s fine.’I really need to shed this negativity.It was as if the dark clouds outside had started seeping into my brain. The pitch off was on Friday. With less than two days to go, we had no option but to accept our fate.
‘Are you trying to convince me or yourself?’
‘Look, is it a brilliant idea? No,’ I began reasoning out loud. ‘Do we have a better idea? Also no. All we can do now is pray that everyone else has worse pitches.’
Neil twirled his pen between his fingers, his gaze fixed on an unremarkable point on the table. ‘You know what, you’re right.’ He looked up and met my eye. ‘Nitya might’ve mentioned her idea to me in passing yesterday and it was pretty lame.’
‘Oh? What was it?’
‘Something about Marie Kondo-ing your wardrobe and doing more with less.’
‘God, thatislame,’ I said, feeling a crackle of hope. ‘What made her tell you though?’
Neil stretched his left arm behind my chair, twisting slightly to ease his stiff shoulder. Instinctively, I sat up straighter. ‘I don’t know … we’re friends, I guess.’
‘Right, friends.’ I didn’t quite like the sound of the words coming out of my mouth. Why did I care if Neil was popular with all the women in the office? It’s not likeIhad any interest in him. I guess what I didn’t like was that he’d been here all of three weeks and already had a fan club, whereas I’d been around for years and only had one friend to show for it.
‘Anyway … so Nitya’s out. Saloni will probably pitch some type of a launch sale. Inayat has been on sick leave all week, and I’m not sure if the others really care all that much.’ He counted them out on his fingers, surprising me with how wellhe’d managed to read my colleagues in the short time he’d been at the office. ‘That just leaves—’
‘Tanya.’ I finished for him. Who, I was fairly sure, was avoiding me.
‘Yup. Any clue what she’s cooking up?’
I shook my head. Tanya and I had barely spoken this week. She’d been spending her lunch breaks eating at her desk, presumably working on her pitch. We’d bumped into each other by the coffee machine this morning and had made awkward small talk about how the week felt longer than usual before shuffling away to our desks.
‘No.’ It bothered me more than I cared to admit. I’d never been a very competitive person. When we were younger, I used to let my brother win every game of Uno, even when I had been dealt better cards. It was just easier than putting up with his temper tantrums all day. But I wasn’t twelve anymore, and this wasn’t Uno.
My inner turmoil was interrupted when Varun opened the door and peeked his head inside. ‘Guys, there’s a storm warning this evening. You can leave early if you want … HR has okayed it.’
‘No half day penalty?’ Neil perked up.
Varun laughed. ‘Not today. Make the most of it!’
I turned to Neil as soon as Varun had left. ‘You’re not going anywhere until we make this deck look passable.’
Neil rolled his eyes at my tone. ‘You really can’t let the bossy thing go, can you?’
‘I will,’ I said, giving him a pointed look. ‘The day you start behaving like a grown adult.’
He tilted his head, like he was humouring me. ‘Define “grown”.’
‘Someone who doesn’t require a pep talk to finish a basic task … who isn’t constantly relying on his charm to get out of everything.’
