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new business and layoffs,” Val pauses. “I plan on both.” She gets up and paces around the room. “A few weeks ago, Mr. Heffner had dinner with Walt Cedar, the CEO of Cedar Foods. It appears that they’re in the process of starting a new snack chip division. Their first product will be potato chips slated to come to market early next year. They want something fresh, but according to Heffner, the old man hates change. They’re making the round of presentations next week. And so one week from Friday, at eleven, they’ll be here with their ad agency reps in tow. That doesn’t give us much time, but we are going to take this potato chip from conception to birth. They need a product name, a campaign plan, and a long-term marketing strategy. That’s where you two come in.”
    Lance starts, “You want us to work on this…”
    â€œâ€¦together?” Renny finishes.
    â€œNot exactly. I’m quite aware that there’s no love lost between the two of you, but now we’re all going to benefit from your shared contempt. I’m going to loosen the leash on this one, giving you autonomy. Let’s hope I don’t regret it. Each of you will devise a different strategy and all the elements that go with it, with my input of course. As long as the idea is up to snuff, you’ll each have the chance to pitch it to the client yourself.”
    Renny is stunned. She’s never been given the opportunity to present by herself. This could be her big break.
    â€œThe person whose campaign they choose gets a promotion to account manager, my job. I in turn get bumped up to partner. Win-win.” Val pauses. “Oh, I almost forgot the last detail. The loser gets terminated.”
    The room is silent.
    Renny tries to keep her voice from faltering, “But what if neither of us wins the account?”
    â€œThen you can keep each other company on the unemployment line. This may seem harsh, but I believe that the best work comes under pressure. Besides, there’s no room here for dead weight. If either of you have a problem with this, the door hasn’t moved since you came in, you’re free to use it. You have autonomy in that, too. Security will be happy to escort you out.”
    Renny holds her face steady under Val’s scrutinizing stare.
    â€œGood.” Val picks up her phone, letting them know they are dismissed. “Doris has files for each of you on the project.”
    Renny follows Lance toward the door.
    Val calls after her. “And Renny.”
    She turns, “Yes?”
    Val’s voice is caustic. “Next time, save the tennis shoes for the weekend. We dress for work here.”

Chapter Two
    â€œRenny, open the door. It’s Jeff.”
    â€œShit, not now,” Renny whispers, hopping as she pulls on black knee-high boots. Jeff is her friend and neighbor across the hall. She ignores him, hoping he’ll go away.
    He taps at the door like a woodpecker. “Come on, open up, I want to show you something. I know you’re home. I heard you come in.”
    She wonders if she can telepathically send him a message to leave.
    â€œThat’s it! I’m going to sing until you open the door.” He bursts into a hearty rendition of “Happy Birthday.”
    So much for telepathy, Renny thinks, opening the door. “What?”
    Jeff walks in, holding out a cupcake with a burning candle as if it were a twelve-tier confectionary masterpiece.
    Renny breezes past him toward the bathroom and extinguishes the flame. “I’m meeting Sara and Gaby in less than twenty minutes for dinner across town. I don’t have time right now.”
    â€œWhat restaurant?” Jeff asks.
    â€œVolume,” Renny calls back, fluffing the brown hair curling at her shoulders, which despite a drizzly commute home has remained frizz free—a birthday token from the hair gods. To refurbish for her evening, she has washed away the