"You found any woman?" Derek asked, glancing over, curious.
"Nope and none," Roman said casually, standing straight. He walked around the table, already sizing up his next shot. He had no interest in entanglements for the time being.
"Fair enough." Derek grinned. "Everyone's too busy anyway."
"Women are a bothersome species," Roman muttered, one eye closed as he lined up his next shot.
Derek chuckled. For a fleeting second, he thought of his girlfriend—the quiet comfort of having someone waiting for you. He was glad for it.
"Some things are different now," Derek said, keeping his tone measured as he rolled a dart between his fingers.
"Absolutely," Roman agreed.
"Used to be you hit your targets and you were golden. Now you hit them, and they ask why you didn't hit them faster, bigger, and with half the budget."
Roman exhaled slowly through his nose and struck. The cue ball cracked into its target, sending it spinning straight into the corner pocket. Click.
"Expectations don't move," he said, straightening up. "They multiply. Lauren wants a campaign that trends, sells, and wins awards—and it better cost nothing, because apparently, creativity is free."
Derek snorted. He threw. The dart slammed into the board just off center. "Times Group laid off their whole marketing team last week. Heard one of them had just won an industry award. Didn't matter at all."
"Yeah." Roman chalked his cue, slow and deliberate. "You can be the best in the room and still be entirely disposable. One bad quarter, one campaign that doesn't pop, and you're the reason the brand feels stale."
He circled the table. "Jane turned in three taglines yesterday, all solid. Lauren looked at them and said, 'These would've worked last year.'" His mouth twisted. "Last year we doubled revenue."
Derek leaned against the wall. "So what do you do? Burn out trying to guess what 'new' means every single week?"
Roman lined his next shot up carefully. "Not really. You anticipate. You stay up until three in the morning so when she asks a question, you've already got the answer—and you just pray it's the one she wants to hear today. Luckily, I'm sharp enough to stay ahead of it."
The ball dropped cleanly into the pocket.
Derek was quiet for a beat. Then, softly: "Sounds less like marketing and more like survival."
Roman offered a humorless smile. "Welcome to the job." He glanced up. "You getting the same pressure?"
"A different flavor," Derek admitted, throwing his final dart. It landed squarely in the bullseye, though he didn't celebrate. "Just makes you wonder when high performance quietly morphed into never enough."
Roman said nothing. He just took his shot.
Later that evening, Aaron headed toward the table where Natalie had been working for weeks. He stopped beside her, hands in his pockets, watching the quiet, practical lesson unfold across her laptop screen.
Something in him softened just seeing her learn, seeing her try.
"It's the layout button for that," he said, leaning in just enough to guide her without crowding. "Right there for selecting the layout you want."
Natalie kept her eyes on the screen. "Okay," she murmured, already clicking and adjusting. Her fingers moved across the keys with steady focus.
Aaron watched her—the quiet concentration in her brow, the way her lips parted slightly as she thought. Without thinking, he reached out and caressed her head, his fingers threading briefly through her hair.
For some reason, Natalie liked it. The warmth of his palm, the comforting weight of it. She didn't look up, but her shoulders visibly relaxed.
"Don't exhaust yourself," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Come join me when you're done."
"When I'm done," she echoed softly, still typing. She knew exactly what that meant; by the time she finished, he would already be asleep. She always took longer than she intended.
Aaron lingered for a second longer before taking his leave. He was proud of her hard work, even if a small, bittersweet part of him wished she would come to bed sooner. He knew she was doing well, and that was what mattered most.
At Cate Winter's headquarters, Catelyn stepped into the room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished marble. Every head turned. She wore confidence like armor—a tailored brown coat draped over a light green business suit, fitted to absolute perfection. Expensive handbags, luxury down to the last detail. That was Catelyn, and that was her empire.
Sandra, her assistant, approached immediately, dressed in a professional black sleeved top and a long office pencil skirt. Efficient and composed.
"Catelyn, you need to review this," Sandra said, holding out a tablet.
Catelyn took it without breaking stride. "Your schedule's been changed," Sandra added as they walked.
Inside her private office, Catelyn set her bag on the desk and slid into her chair, her eyes instantly scanning the reviews, numbers, feedback, and projections. Only after she finished did she look up at her assistant.
"Which drink do you want, ma'am?" Sandra asked from the doorway.
"The usual," Catelyn answered, not looking up.
"Okay, ma'am." Sandra left quietly.
The newly adjusted schedule was lighter, thinner. Catelyn exhaled, genuinely surprised by the relief that settled in her chest. Lately, the crushing weight of back-to-back meetings had been wearing her down, and Sandra had clearly noticed. The office walls, painted in a soft cream and silver, were carefully designed to promote focus, adorned with framed certificates and fine artwork.
Minutes later, the door clicked open. Sandra set a steaming cup of tea on the desk.
"I changed your schedule. Hope you don't mind, ma'am?" Sandra's voice was cautious. She had watched her boss drown in work for months, far too busy to realize how burnt out she was becoming.
"It's fine," Catelyn said, finally meeting her eyes. "I find it acceptable." She meant it. For once, she was glad someone had stepped in to help her manage.
"Very well. I should get back to my work," Sandra said politely.
"Okay."
"I'll take my leave."
Sandra slipped out of the room. Catelyn leaned back in her chair, sipped her tea, and let the rare quiet wash over her. She realized she had been taking on far too much, and for the first time in a very long time, it felt okay to let someone else help keep her world running smoothly. Opening her tablet once more, she was finally ready to begin.