Holly arrived at Java Junction early the next morning. The usual hum of conversation mixed with the low whir of the espresso machine. The place smelled like cinnamon and espresso and something faintly floral. Jordan had insisted on testing a new rosewater syrup again, despite Holly’s teasing protests that it smelled like soap.

  The bell over the door jingled, and Holly glanced up mid-pour.

  Sarah, her manager, stepped inside with a faint breeze trailing behind her. As always, she had her signature oversized scarf looped around her neck—despite the season—and a clipboard tucked under one arm.

  “Hey, stranger,” Sarah said with a warm smile as she approached the counter.

  “Hey yourself,” Holly replied, flashing her a bright grin. “You’re early. I thought your shift didn’t start until noon.”

  “It doesn’t,” Sarah said, sliding onto a barstool. “But I figured I’d come steal a coffee and your attention before the lunch rush.”

  Holly handed off the latte she’d been working on and turned her full attention to Sarah, wiping her hands on a towel. “You want your usual?”

  “You know me too well.”

  As she moved to prepare the drink, Sarah leaned casually on the counter. “So,” she said, voice light, “what did you need to talk to me about? I can see it in your eyes.”

  Holly let out a soft laugh, her back to her as she steamed the milk. “It’s that obvious?” Holly began pouring the milk into Sarah’s mug, her look pensive and a little anxious, ”It’s not bad news. Just… kind of big news.”

  She finished the drink - rose latte with almond milk, just like Sarah liked it -, and slid it across the counter.

  Sarah took a sip, then gave her an expectant look over the rim.

  Holly took a breath. Then another.

  And then, leaning slightly forward with her hands flat on the counter, she said, “So, you know how Ariel went to that game expo this weekend? The one with the press and the fans and the panels?”

  Sarah nodded, brow lifting slightly.

  “Well… I went with her. As, like, moral support. But I ended up kind of… accidentally managing the press? There was a moment where she got overwhelmed, and I just stepped in. Talked to everyone. Smoothed it all out.”

  Sarah tilted her head. “I’m not surprised. You’ve always had a gift for wrangling chaos.”

  “Yeah, well, apparently Ariel’s boss thought so too. Because she called a meeting with HR and the Board. Now there’s a formal offer - an actual job offer - for me to become Ariel’s PR Manager.”

  The words hung in the air like a held breath.

  Sarah blinked.

  Then slowly, a smile crept across her face. “Wait, seriously?”

  Holly nodded. “Seriously. Full-time. Real salary. Full benefits. I’d be working under Abigail, not Ariel, so there’s no weird chain-of-command stuff. It’s all above board. And… I think I want to take it.”

  Sarah didn’t say anything for a moment. She just reached out and gently took Holly’s hand across the counter, her thumb brushing along her knuckles.

  “Well, damn,” she said softly. “I knew you were good. But I guess I didn’t realize just how much until someone tried to steal you.”

  “I’m really gonna miss this place,” Holly said quietly. “Miss you.”

  Sarah let out a quiet sigh and nodded. “You’ve been the heart of this café since day one, Hol. Losing you sucks. But I’d be a monster if I tried to keep you from something like this.”

  She paused. “How long do I have you for?”

  “Until the end of the week,” Holly replied.

  Sarah made a sobbing noise and squeezed her hand. “You’re killing me.”

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Then she stood, rounded the counter, and wrapped Holly in a tight, warm hug.

  “I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” she murmured into her hair. “Really, really proud.”

  Holly hugged her back just as tightly. “Thank you. For everything.”

  They stood there for a moment longer, the buzz of the café continuing around them like a low, contented hum. And then Sarah stepped back, dabbing at the corner of her eye with the sleeve of her cardigan.

  “I’m gonna go cry into my croissant,” she joked, grabbing her clipboard again. “Don’t you dare forget us when you’re rich and famous.”

  “No promises,” Holly teased. “But I’ll try to get you a guest pass to the first Willowbound gala.”

  Sarah laughed as she headed for the door, the bell jingling again behind her.

  Once she was gone, Holly slipped her phone from her pocket and typed out a message, her fingers trembling just a little:

  Just told Sarah. She hugged me and said she’s proud. I’m officially staying until the end of the week. Then I’m all yours, Director. ??

  She hit send and stared at the screen for a second, a slow, giddy smile spreading across her face.

  Ariel’s phone buzzed just as she was finishing up notes on a Level 7 boss encounter. She glanced down at the notification and felt her heart flutter as she saw it was from Holly.

  Ariel grinned as she read the message, her fingers already moving over the screen in reply.

  You have no idea how happy that makes me. Monday can’t come fast enough. I love you, Vi.

  She sat there for a beat longer, thumb hovering before she added:

  Also, I fully plan to abuse my power by asking my PR Manager to bring me lunch every day. Just FYI.

  She chuckled to herself, set her phone down, and reached for her keyboard—but paused, then pivoted.

  Slack.

  She opened a message thread with Abigail and typed:

  Ariel McIntyre

  Just heard from Holly. She wrapped up with her manager and she’s officially in. She can start next Monday.

  The reply came a few seconds later, as if Abigail had been waiting for it.

  Abigail Lin

  That’s what I was hoping to hear. I’ll draft the onboarding plan and loop her into the orientation schedule. Monday’s going to be fun.

  Satisfied, Ariel closed the message and leaned back in her chair. The late morning sun had shifted, casting slanted light across her desk. It felt like the perfect moment to stretch her legs, get her eyes off screens, and check in with the team.

  She grabbed her notebook and headed out of her office, the door giving a soft click behind her as she stepped into the hallway. The Willowbound office had a quiet rhythm today: most of the Seattle-based devs were either remote or hybrid, but a good handful were in-person this week for sprint reviews and creative planning. The scent of someone’s microwaved lunch wafted from the break room as she passed, and the clack of mechanical keyboards hummed softly from nearby.

  Her first stop was Olivia from narrative.

  Olivia was perched at her desk with one leg tucked under her and a wall of post-its blooming like neon ivy across her monitor.

  “Hey,” Ariel said with a gentle smile, “got a minute?”

  Olivia looked up, blinking behind her glasses, then smiled. “For you? Always.”

  Ariel leaned against the desk, flipping open her notebook. “Just doing a little walkaround. Seeing if anyone wants to spitball ideas for Act 3, or talk through pain points.”

  Olivia’s expression lit up. “Actually, yes. I’ve been trying to figure out how we handle the protagonist’s emotional break after the Whispering Glade scene. Right now it reads kind of flat, but I think with the right setup we can thread it more through player choice.”

  Ariel’s mind clicked into gear instantly. “We could tie it to how many villagers the player has bonded with by then—like, your level of connection to the community affects the intensity of your reaction.”

  Olivia’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, that’s perfect. It makes the grief feel earned.”

  They talked for another fifteen minutes, sketching ideas in the margins of Ariel’s notebook until Olivia had to run to a narrative sync. Ariel left her with a grin, promising to follow up later with prototype hooks.

  Next was Matteo, one of the newer environmental artists. He was sculpting an eerie cave biome for a late-game dungeon and looked up sheepishly when Ariel tapped his doorframe.

  “Uh, hi! Director McIntyre.”

  Ariel chuckled. “Don’t do that. Just call me Ariel.”

  He laughed nervously, but relaxed. She stepped in and glanced at his screen; a beautiful, moss-choked tunnel rendered in soft purples and blues, with faint glowing fungi arcing along the ceiling.

  “This is beautiful,” she said. “Want to walk me through your inspiration?”

  He did. And as he talked, Ariel found herself slipping back into the groove she loved, offering small ideas, suggestions for visual story cues, tiny adjustments that honored his style while nudging the design toward something deeper.

  She made her rounds like that for the next hour. A stop with Ellie from sound design, who was testing ambient loop audio for the night cycle. A quick brainstorm with Rico from combat systems, who was excited about introducing a new status effect. Everywhere she went, people lit up when she asked to listen. She wasn’t just managing: she was in it. Present. Creative. Energized.

  By the time she looped back to her office, it was nearly 2 PM and her notebook was filled with messy sketches and idea fragments.

  She sat down with a contented sigh, cracked open her water bottle, and smiled to herself.