11. Matthew

The next morning,I'm in my most important meeting of the week. It's the meeting where I'm presenting a key part of my vision for the next five years to my colleagues. It's a topic particularly close to my heart.

Unfortunately, I don't feel at my full capacity mentally today. That's what happens when you don't get enough sleep because you're up nearly all night talking to your nemesis-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-bed-partner.

I couldn't believe it when I realized it was four a.m. Liam and I had talked for so long, our conversation drifting from his plans for his gym to my business to some of the crazy stunts we pulled as kids. Did I ever think I'd be lying naked in bed with Liam Jamieson laughing about the time he put slime in my locker and I retaliated by getting his email account to spam everyone in the school with recommendations for penis enlargers?

Not in this version of reality, anyway.

But the Liam I thought I knew and who he actually is are two very different people. How did I grow up next door to the guy and not really know him at all?

I try to guide my brain away from Liam to what I'm doing. Work. My company. My presentation.

Standing in front of my colleagues, I can't help feeling I've made a mistake waiting until the last day of our retreat to give my presentation. Because I don't think it's just my imagination that all my colleagues are staring longingly out the window to where the pool beckons invitingly.

"A quick meeting is a good meeting, right guys?" Paul says with a grin.

Shit. I haven't even spoken a word, and already Paul is undermining me.

My stomach swirls.

"Ah…so today I'm going to talk to you about an initiative I think is really going to help the company going forward." My voice comes out high-pitched, and I pause to clear my throat before I start talking through my idea about eco-rewards, a feature where users generate reward points for carpooling or using electric vehicles. I put a lot of time and effort into the PowerPoint slides, and I've practiced my presentation several times. But my voice sounds brittle, my sentences disjointed. I can't seem to get into a flow.

It doesn't help that my colleagues don't seem particularly engaged. Henrietta's examining her nails and Raj stares out the window. The only person who seems to be hanging off my every word is Paul.

"I'm a little concerned that we're veering too far out of our lane," Paul interrupts me when I'm three-quarters of the way through my presentation.

I blink at him. "What do you mean, out of our lane?"

"Well, we're a parking app, not an environmental agency. I'm all for incorporating environmental considerations, but let's not forget we're trying to make it easier for people to park cars, not save the planet." Paul spreads his arms along the back of his chair and throws a smirk around at our colleagues.

My heart races, and I fumble for the keyboard.

"Uh…if you wait a few slides, I can show you some of the data showing electric vehicle owners wanting to get recognition for their environmental conscientiousness."

I quickly flick forward to the slide I want.

Paul raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Of course the do-gooders of this world want recognition. But when you have as many years experience under your belt as I have, Matthew, you realize that chasing fads is not a reliable business strategy. You're going to have to trust me on this one."

Shit. His words are cooked in condescension.

I suck in a sharp breath. "I really think that if we don't incorporate environmental concerns into our business model, then we're going to be left behind by our competitors."

"Well, it's obvious it's something you're passionate about, and it's great to see your passion. Why don't you finish the rest of your presentation, and we can see what you're thinking?"

I go through the rest of the presentation, but I'm flustered by the way Paul keeps sending smirks around the table like I'm a child they're indulging.

I need everyone on board with this. The eco-rewards system is a major part of the direction I want the company to head in the future.

But it's not good leadership if you ignore your team's feedback on a major shift in company policy.

"Does anyone have any questions?" I ask when I finally reach the end of my slides.

"Thanks, Matthew. It's always great to hear your ideas. Right, I think a cocktail by the pool might be in order after that," Paul says, standing.

What the hell? He's completely undermining me. But when everyone else gets to their feet as well, throwing grateful looks at Paul, how do I argue that they need to sit back down and discuss my idea now? I've never wanted to be that kind of boss.

"We can talk through this more when we get back to San Francisco," I say.

"Sure thing, Matthew," Paul says as he heads out the door.

The room quickly empties.

I remain sitting at the table, feeling hollow, trying to recover from the trainwreck that was.

Trying not to feel that my own company is slipping away from me.

When I finally get to my feet to follow the exodus of my colleagues, I have a sudden, inexplicable urge to find Liam.

After the morning I've just had, I need comfort.

I don't want to think too hard about the fact that the person I want to see the most right now is the last person I ever thought I'd seek comfort from.