Free That New York Minute by Abby Gaines

account execs, artists, copywriters and media specialists sat, she slid into a chair against the wall at the back of the room. She ignored the curious looks that came her way, and didn’t make eye contact with anyone, not even those she considered her friends. Her aim was invisibility.
    “What are you doing here?” Garrett demanded.
    So much for invisibility.
    “I’m here for…you know. That coaching we discussed with Tony.”
    She struggled to say it without cringing. It was never supposed to come to this. Garrett should have taken umbrage and left for a high-paying job with one of their competitors by now.
    He was still here.
    Unfortunately, Tony had shared details of Rachel’s “generous offer” to coach Garrett with the other partners. She’d received a flood of emails commending her on her team spirit, which admittedly helped make up for the substandard impression she’d left at breakfast the other day. She’d been thrilled…until she realized she would actually have to deliver on her offer, and the people who would make the decision on the promotion would be watching.
    Garrett had rounded the table while she spoke. Now he was close to her…but not too close. She was reminded of that night at the oyster bar—not one of her most cherished memories, but one she had difficulty shaking—when she’d stumbled into his space and he’d drawn away.
    Garrett had numerous ways of putting distance between himself and other people, she realized. Not just physical withdrawal, but the aloofness in his dark eyes, the carefully bland expression he adopted in meetings. The smart-ass remarks.
    “We both know you never meant things to go this far,” he said, quiet enough that his team wouldn’t hear. “How about you walk out now and we forget all about it.”
    Oh, she was tempted. “Tony’s asked me to report back to him, so I’ll need to stay.”
    She figured the best way to handle this was to give Garrett some so-generic-as-to-be-useless feedback on his leadership abilities, since it would be stupid for her to actually help him. No point rolling up her pants to give The Shark a better bite.
    He scowled. “In that case, you sit up there.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the head of the table. “Next to me, where I can keep an eye on you. If I hear so much as a peep out of you, you’re out. Bring your chair.”
    No surprise that he didn’t offer to carry it for her. Rachel squeezed down the side of the room, her chair alternately clanking against someone else’s or banging into the wall. Adam, one of the account execs, offered to help. She gave Garrett a pointed look intended to compare his own manners unfavorably with his junior’s, but refused Adam’s assistance.
    Halfway down the table, Natasha murmured, “Hi, Rachel.”
    “Hey.” Rachel set the chair down and took a breather. “How’s Kevin doing?” She sensed Garrett’s impatience, and deliberately relaxed her stance.
    “Great. His physical therapist says he’ll be back playing basketball next month.”
    “Make sure he rubs liniment on that ankle before and after,” Rachel said. She knew how important basketball was to Natasha’s boyfriend.
    “Will do, Rachel. Thanks.”
    “Any chance we might resume our meeting soon?” Garrett asked.
    Rachel hefted her chair with an exaggerated grunt of exertion and clanked her way forward.
    “Okay,” Garrett said when she was in her designated position, “I’m going to brief you guys about Brightwater, then I’ll take questions. We won’t be discussing any creative ideas while Rachel’s here as an observer.”
    Ready agreement from the team, though there were some apologetic glances toward her. The idea of three teams pitching for the same account had generated a buzz of excitement around the office.
    Rachel had run the same kind of briefing for her own team yesterday, basically reporting what they’d learned at the client meeting. She didn’t expect any surprises from Garrett.
    But she