Fame changes people.
For some, it takes years of red carpets and paparazzi to lose touch with reality. For Tyler the Intern, it took exactly thirty-six hours and four point two million views on TikTok.
“Tyler, take the sunglasses off,” Sarah said, her voice dangerously calm. “We are indoors. It is raining. You look like a visually impaired DJ.”
Tyler adjusted the collar of his prototype Bean & Leaf apron, which he had refused to take off since Tuesday. He pushed the dark aviator sunglasses slightly down his nose. “Sarah, you don’t understand the parasocial demands of my audience. ‘Bean Boy’ has an aesthetic to maintain. I gained forty thousand followers overnight. I have to protect my brand.”
“You don’t have a brand, Tyler. You have a communications degree from a mid-tier state school and a mountain of student debt,” Sarah snapped, aggressively stapling a stack of demographic reports. “Now take the sunglasses off before I staple them to your forehead.”
Ava watched the exchange from her desk, hiding a smile behind her coffee mug. The bullpen was buzzing with a frantic, joyful energy. The Bean & Leaf crisis had been entirely averted, the unified pitch deck was locked and loaded for Friday, and the agency was riding high on the viral success of the teaser campaign.
Everything was perfect.
Ava’s phone buzzed on her desk. It was a text from Ethan.
Breakroom. Two minutes. I have a pastry and a severe lack of impulse control.
Ava’s stomach did a familiar, fluttery flip. She typed back a quick On my way, grabbed her empty mug, and stood up.
“I’m getting more coffee,” Ava announced to the bullpen at large.
“Get me a green tea,” Sarah called out. “And if you see Julian, tell him his latest logo vector is pretentious.”
“I’ll pass along the message,” Ava promised.
She walked down the hallway, her heart beating a little faster with every step. The secret romance was exhausting, yes, but it was also the most thrilling thing she had ever experienced.
She pushed open the door to the breakroom. Ethan was standing by the counter, and he didn’t say a word before he crossed the room, gathered her up, and kissed her like he’d been waiting all morning to do it — which, he informed her between kisses, he had.
“You said you had a pastry,” Ava murmured against his mouth.
“I lied,” Ethan said, entirely unrepentant.
For a moment, it was easy. It was just his hands at her waist and the familiar, dizzy relief of not having to perform anything for anyone. Then, underneath it, quiet and unwelcome, the thought surfaced the way it had every day for four days now: he doesn’t know. You are letting him kiss you like the ground under both of you is solid.
She pushed the thought back down. Not now. Not yet. Just this, for one more minute.
“Friday,” Ethan said, pulling back just far enough to look at her, his thumb tracing her jaw. “Real dinner. Candles. Wine. A waiter who judges us for ordering too much dessert.”
“A real dinner,” Ava repeated, and made herself smile, made herself sound like a woman with nothing to confess. “I can’t wait.”
She walked back to her desk a few minutes later, feeling like she was floating and drowning in roughly equal measure. She had the man she loved. She had the biggest campaign of her career. And she had four days left to figure out how to keep both without lying to him for a fifth.
“Reynolds. My office.”
Marcus Kline was standing in the doorway of the executive suite, holding a golf putter. He pointed it directly at Ava.
“Just me?” Ava asked, glancing over at Ethan’s pod.
“Just you,” Kline confirmed, turning and walking back into his office.
Ava grabbed her notebook, her strategic brain instantly kicking into gear. She ran through a mental checklist of the Bean & Leaf deliverables. Everything was on schedule. The budget was approved. There was no reason for a private meeting unless…
Unless Sarah was right. Unless the promotion was finally happening.
Ava’s heart hammered against her ribs as she walked across the
bullpen. She had been working toward the Vice President of Strategy role for three years. She had sacrificed weekends, holidays, and countless hours of sleep for this exact moment.
She pushed open the heavy glass door to Kline’s office.
It was a massive, corner suite with panoramic views of the Chicago River. The walls were lined with framed awards and photos of Kline shaking hands with various minor celebrities.
Kline was standing on a small, artificial putting green in the corner of the room, lining up a shot.
“Close the door, Ava,” Kline said, not looking up.
Ava closed the door, the heavy glass sealing out the noise of the bullpen. She stood in front of his massive mahogany desk, clutching her notebook.
Kline tapped the golf ball. It rolled smoothly across the artificial turf and dropped into the cup with a satisfying clink.
“Nice shot,” Ava offered.
“It’s all in the follow-through,” Kline grunted, leaning on the putter. He looked at her, his sharp, calculating eyes assessing her with clinical precision. “Sit down.”
Ava sat in one of the leather guest chairs.
“You handled the Bean & Leaf crisis brilliantly yesterday,” Kline started, walking over to his desk and sitting down heavily. “Pivoting the leaked uniform into a viral teaser campaign? That was agile. That was smart. That’s the kind of thinking that keeps this agency relevant.”
“Thank you, Marcus. But it was a team effort. Ethan’s app integration made the video work, and Sarah-“
“I don’t care about the team right now, Ava. I care about you,” Kline interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I’ve been watching you for the last three years. You’re hungry. You’re sharp. You don’t let your ego get in the way of the work.”
Ava held her breath. This was it. The speech.
“Susan is retiring at the end of the quarter,” Kline said, naming the current VP of Strategy. “I need someone to fill her shoes. Someone who understands the modern market, but respects the foundational principles of branding. Someone like you.”
Ava’s heart soared. A massive, irrepressible smile broke across her face. “Marcus, I… I would be honored. I’ve been working toward this for a long time. I know I can lead the strategy department here in Chicago.”
Kline stopped chewing his gum. He looked at her, a faint frown creasing his forehead.
“Chicago?” Kline repeated.
Ava’s smile faltered slightly. “Yes. The Chicago strategy team.” Kline leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow, heavy sigh. “Ava,
Summit Strategies isn’t just a Chicago agency anymore. We’re expanding. We just acquired two boutique firms in New York, and we’re opening a new office in London next year.”
A cold, creeping sense of dread began to pool in the pit of Ava’s stomach. “Okay.”
“The Vice President of Strategy isn’t a desk job,” Kline explained, his voice taking on a hard, uncompromising edge. “It’s a global role. You wouldn’t just be managing the team here. You would be the fixer. The closer. When the New York office fumbles a pitch, you fly in and save it. When the London office needs to land a whale, you’re on the ground leading the room.”
Ava stared at him, the blood roaring in her ears. “How much travel are we talking about?”
“Eighty percent,” Kline said bluntly. “Forty weeks a year on the road. You’ll live out of a suitcase, Reynolds. You’ll eat a lot of room service, and you’ll probably forget what time zone you’re in half the time. But the view from the top is worth it. The compensation package is double what you’re making now, plus equity.”
Forty weeks a year. Living out of a suitcase.
The words echoed in Ava’s head, loud and deafening.
I travel forty weeks a year, Ava. I go where the agencies send me. You don’t buy throw pillows when you live out of a suitcase.
It was Ethan’s life.
Marcus Kline was offering her the exact same life that Ethan had just spent the last six years living. The exact same life that had made him so profoundly, devastatingly lonely. The exact same life that he was currently turning down a Full Partnership to escape.
“I…” Ava started, her voice trembling. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. “I didn’t realize the role had expanded so significantly.”
“The industry is expanding,” Kline said, leaning forward again. “You have to evolve, Ava, or you die. You told Ethan that yourself in the Thunderdome last week. You can’t cling to the way things used to be just because it feels safe.”
The irony was so sharp it felt like a physical blade sliding between her ribs.
She had spent six years resenting Ethan for choosing his ambition over her. She had told herself that she was different. That she was building a grounded, stable life in Chicago.
But now, the universe was calling her bluff. The universe was handing her the ultimate test.
If she took the job, she would get everything she had ever worked for. The title. The money. The prestige. But she would be gone. She would be the one getting on a plane every Monday morning. She would be the one leaving Ethan behind in an empty apartment.
She would become the exact person who had broken her heart six years ago.
But if she turned it down? If she walked away from the culmination of her entire career just to stay in Chicago with a man she had only been secretly dating for two weeks?
She would be sacrificing her ambition for a relationship. She would be the girl who gave up her dreams for a guy.
It was an impossible, devastating choice.
“I need an answer by Monday,” Kline said, misinterpreting her silence as professional contemplation. “I know it’s a big step up. Talk to your family. Look at the numbers. But I want you in this role, Ava. You’re a killer. Don’t let me down.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” Ava whispered, standing up on legs that felt like they were made of lead. “I’ll… I’ll have an answer for you on Monday.”
“Good.” Kline picked up his putter again. “Now go finalize that Bean & Leaf deck. We have a fifty-million-dollar whale to catch on Friday.”
Ava walked out of the executive suite, the heavy glass door clicking shut behind her.
The bullpen was still buzzing with energy. Tyler was filming another TikTok near the copier. Sarah and Julian were bickering over a Pantone color swatch.
Ava walked blindly toward her desk, her vision blurring slightly at the edges. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. The walls of the agency suddenly felt like they were closing in on her.
“Hey.”
Ethan stepped into her path, blocking her way to her pod. He was smiling, that warm, easy, devastatingly handsome smile that made her chest ache.
“You survived Kline,” Ethan said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register meant only for her. He looked closely at her face, his smile faltering slightly. “Ava? Are you okay? You look pale.”
Ava stared at him. She looked at the vintage watch on his wrist. She looked at the man who had just promised to stay in Chicago for her.
I’m staying, Ava. Whether you ever forgive me or not.
If she told him about the promotion right now, he would tell her to take it. He would be supportive. He would try to make it work. But they both knew the truth. You couldn’t build a foundation with someone who was never there.
“I’m fine,” Ava lied, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She forced a bright, brittle smile onto her face. “I’m just… tired. Kline wants to review the final deck tomorrow morning. Just nerves.”
Ethan’s eyes searched hers, clearly sensing that something was wrong, but he didn’t push it in the middle of the bullpen. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing her arm in a gesture of silent support.
“We’ve got this, Red,” Ethan promised softly. “We’re a terrifyingly good team.”
“Yeah,” Ava whispered, her heart breaking cleanly in two. “We are.”
She walked past him, sitting down at her desk and staring blankly at her monitors.
The secret office romance was no longer the most dangerous thing in her life. The real danger was the secret she was now keeping from him.
She had four days to decide between the career she had always wanted, and the man she had never stopped loving.
And for the first time in her life, Ava Reynolds had absolutely no idea what the right strategy was.