Page 40 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
I glance at Owen. He gives me a tiny nod.
“We agree,” I say. “That’s why we’re pivoting the brand strategy. We are rebranding for the Beta launch next week. The campaign is called ‘Be Seen.’ It focuses on vulnerability and human connection. It targets the isolation demographic directly.”
“Vulnerability?” Sterling sounds skeptical. “That is risky.”
“It’s calculated,” I say, channeling Tessa’s voice from earlier. “Efficiency scales, Mr. Sterling. But empathy retains. We aren’t just selling an algorithm. We’re selling a cure for loneliness.”
Silence on the line. I hold my breath.
“A cure for loneliness,” Sterling repeats. “That is… compelling. Very well. Send me the deck. If the creative matches the pitch, you have your funding.”
The line clicks dead. I let out a breath, slumping slightly in my chair.
“Nice pivot,” Owen says, loosening his tie. “You sounded like her.”
“I sounded like a CEO listening to his expert strategist,” I correct him.
“You sounded like a man who knows he was wrong,” Asher says from the couch.
I ignore him. I stand up, walking to the window. The noon sun is blinding against the glass.
“Is she really gone?” I ask, my voice sounding hollow.
“No,” Asher says, finally looking up from his tablet. “She never left. She went to the bathroom to hide for a few minutes, then hit the break room for a caffeine spike. She’s been back at her desk.”
I glare at him. “You said she took an Uber.”
“I said the statistics suggested it,” Asher counters, a tiny, almost invisible spark of mischief in his eyes. “I didn’t say it happened. I wanted to see your heart rate spike. It did. Mission accomplished.”
I stiffen. “I ended the meeting. She should have taken the hint.”
“She doesn’t take hints, Ethan. She takes ground,” Owen murmurs, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You ended it by running. You’re the one who walked out, and we both know that’s a first. That’s why we like her—she’s the only variable you can’t solve.”
I turn from the window. “We don’t like her. We employ her. And as of this moment, we are implementing a firewall. No more lunches, Owen. No more rides home, Asher. We keep it strictlyprofessional. We survive the launch, we get the funding, and we make sure our sister stays in Europe until she’s missed the chance to realize we almost inducted her best friend into the unit.”
“Claimed,” Owen corrects softly. “We almost claimed her.”
“Same thing,” I snap. “It ends now.”
I grab my jacket. “I’m going to check the dev team. If you see her… ignore her.”
I walk out of the office.
The main floor is loud, developers moving between desks with fresh coffee. I keep my eyes forward, marching toward the dev bay.
But I have to pass her desk.
Tessa is there. She’s hunched over her keyboard, typing with a ferocity that suggests she’s trying to punch holes in the glass screen.
She looks up as I approach.
Her hazel eyes collide with mine. For a second, I see the heat flare up—the memory of the conference room, the almost-kiss, the hunger.
She opens her mouth. “Ethan…”
“Mr. Branson,” I correct her, my voice ice, as I keep walking without slowing down. “Have the ‘Be Seen’ assets on my server by five. No excuses.”
She flinches. The hope in her eyes dies, replaced by a cold, hard shutter coming down.
