Page 11 of Not Safe for Work
‘Advertising,’ he responded, not even bothering to look away from his screen.
I drummed my fingers on the side of my coffee cup, feigning interest. ‘What was it like? Did you enjoy it?’
He nodded absently, clicking through a few tabs on his screen. ‘Yeah, it was fine. Lot of work, though.’
I leaned in a little, trying to steer the conversation. ‘Yeah, I can imagine. I used to spend so much time at Bobst Library, trying to get ahead on the coursework.’ Mentally, I gave myself a little high five. I’d done my homework.
His eyes flicked up to mine for just a second, before he went right back to his screen. This was beginning to feel like a veryone-sided conversation. Why was he not showing more interest? He had acted very differently yesterday.
As the minutes dragged on, I sat there, my mind spinning.Why is he being so distant? Is it to do with me? Or is it something else?The silence stretched, making me more and more jittery. I mentally ran through a list of possible topics to break the ice, hoping one would get him talking, but none of them felt right. Until my brain landed on the one question I knew I shouldn’t ask, but couldn’t stop myself from considering. Maybe it was best if I just bit the bullet.
I shifted in my seat, trying to sound casual. ‘So … did you hear back from Kenzo?’
He looked at me again, his face devoid of any expression. ‘Yeah. He couldn’t really place you.’
I quickly swallowed the bile rising in my throat, forcing a bright smile. ‘Yeah, I guess I didn’t interact with too many of my peers,’ I said.
‘Mm-hmm,’ he said, pausing to take a sip of his coffee.
I let myself exhale.Okay, I think that went fine.I had sidestepped the question without a hitch. He had bought it. He hadtotallybought it. And I hadn’t even needed to initiate phase two or three of my plan.
I closed my eyes for a second, wrapping my hands around the warm coffee cup. For now, this was under control. I wasn’t naive enough to think the subject would never come up again, but the next time he asked me questions about NYU, I’d be ready. No more fumbling or panicked half-truths. I had done my research. I had answers.
And maybe, just maybe, I was overthinking this. Maybe he wasn’t all that interested in my past after all. Maybe he had just been making conversation, trying to find middle ground with his boss, and I was the one spiralling into paranoia. I needed to stop letting my fear get the best of me.
My jaw unclenched and I sank further back in my seat, finally able to focus on something other than not getting caught.I clicked open my email, skimming through a few messages before switching over to my calendar. A reminder popped up for a marketing meeting in ten minutes.
Perfect. Time to switch gears. Boss mode.I glanced over at Neil. ‘You want to join the marketing meeting in a bit? See how we do things around here?’
He turned to look at me. ‘Yeah, sure.’
‘The interns don’t usually attend, but I think it might be a good learning experience for you.’
His lips curved into a slow smile. ‘I’m here to learn. Wouldn’t want mypeersto forget about me, you know?’
I felt a small prickling sensation at the back of my neck.Why had he phrased it like that?But I didn’t get a chance to dwell on it, because Varun appeared behind us, clapping Neil on his back.
‘Neil, buddy, come join us for today’s meeting,’ he said, flashing him a grin.
I followed them as they made their way towards the conference room, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of my mind.
I gripped the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection under the painfully bright fluorescent lights. A mild headache brewed around my temples as the day’s events played out in my head.
From the outside, everything had seemed normal. Neil and I had barely interacted the entire day, except for when I had asked him to pull up a few design references for our upcoming monsoon sale campaign. Even then, our exchange had beenstrictly professional. There had been no attempt to talk about our so-called shared history.
But there had been other things that had given me pause. That comment about not wanting to be forgotten by his peers? That had felt like a taunt about the Kenzo situation. I wouldn’t have thought much of it had it been an isolated remark, but then in the morning meeting, he’d said something else.
The team had been discussing new strategies to position Jharokha as a leader in the home decor industry. Varun had given a long spiel about how luxury home decor brands thrive on perception, on making people buy into the story that the brand belonged at the top.
‘Like how some brands throw around words like “heritage” and “legacy” when they’ve been around for, what, five years?’ Tanya had scoffed, but Varun had nodded enthusiastically.
‘Exactly! We need to lean into that authority, highlight that we are the gold standard,’ he had said. The conversation had gone on for a while, with Varun taking a special interest in Neil’s opinions on the matter. I had been too sleep-deprived to fully engage, only half-listening, until Neil said, ‘Fake it till you make it, right?’
When I looked up from my diary, I’d found him looking right at me.
That wasn’t even the worst of it. A few hours after lunch, when I had returned to my desk from a coffee break, Neil wasn’t around. His chair was pushed back slightly, his laptop open, screen glowing. I hadn’t meant to look, but it was right there, staring me in the face.
His desktop wallpaper.
