ice cold. “Yes, it was a gamble. There’s always risk in game production.” He waved his hand toward me. “Case in point. You.”
My heart beat faster as I clenched and unclenched my fists. “But you wouldn’t have done what you did with our other games. Like Zooful Nation. Or the UFC Fighter one. Or even Girls of War.”
He let out a grim laugh. “Well, it’s simple. That’s because I thought this game would fail. It wasn’t my idea and now it’s all the fucking board wants to hear about.” In higher falsetto, he mocked, “Tell us about Ultimate Apocalypse’s subscription model! Have you thought of merch opportunities? Have you thought about the next feminist game?” With his index finger pointing at his head and thumb finger up, he pretended to shoot.
Ian had never supported this game. And clearly, he still didn’t. But the board was all up in his business about it, so his professional success was intertwined with mine. Now UA couldn’t fail anymore, because Ian’s success directly depended on it.
This was my opportunity to seize the moment. “Ian, I want a raise.”
He scoffed. “You haven’t even been here that long. Don’t be ridiculous.”
My voice grew firmer. “The facts are clear. I’ve had to learn fast and I do a damn good job. I work harder than anyone else here, on the front line and behind the scenes. You need this game to launch on time. To do that, you need me to take UA to completion. Now that I think of it, I want double the game ship bonus, too, because I was on an accelerated timeline.”
He sputtered, unable to form words.
“I’m not leaving until you confirm we have a deal.”
A soft knock at the door interrupted us. His admin’s head popped in. “Ian, you have your meeting with those board members who wanted a tour of the studio. They’re standing at my desk. What do you want me to do?”
I jumped to my feet. “I’d be happy to give them a tour. I’m sure they’d love to know all about my experience working on Ultimate Apocalypse.”
He glared at me, then shifted his gaze to his assistant. After flexing his jaw, he growled, “I’ll be right out. Also, please draw some paperwork for Melody’s five percent raise and double game ship bonus.”
He stood up and looked back at me as he exited. “You better not fuck anything up, Melody.” And with that, he slammed the door.
I took deep breaths and tried to calm my trembling hands by sitting on them. I got a raise! And a bonus! Without giving it any thought, I pulled out my phone and texted Nolan while I walked back to my desk. I asked for a raise and bonus, like you suggested. It worked! Celebration soon?
He replied quickly. Cool! Can’t though, out of town a few days, east coast. Have fun!
With my eyes glued to my screen, I ran smack into Asher on his way to the kitchen. “Boy trouble?” he joked as I recoiled from him.
“None of your business,” I growled.
He snuck a look over my shoulder anyway. “If you want my dude opinion, it looks like he’s hiding something.” He paused. “Or hiding . . . someone.”
I didn’t ask for his opinion, but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Nolan was on the East Coast for final interviews, or mending his strained relationship with his family to move back home, or maybe he was reacquainting himself with cropped-out-of-picture girl. For someone who just got a raise and a bonus, I sure didn’t feel like celebrating.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Did you see the email from Ian?” Kat barged into my office with wild eyes and a flaring nose. I hadn’t even had time to put my coffee down.
“Not yet. What did it say?”
“You need to read it.” She leaned over to see my screen.
“I just got in, Kat, and haven’t logged in. Why don’t you just tell me about the email.”
“Trust me, it’s better if you see it.” She continued to stare at my blank screen.
Jesus Christ. I logged in to the network and accessed my mail, under Kat’s intense surveillance. She skimmed my unread mail and pointed. “There. Click on that one.”
From Ian, subject line: “Congratulations Asher, for your feature article in WIRED’s Exclusive Game Issue!” I clicked on the link.
The article opened the way one of those interview pieces go with an actor or actress shown behind the scenes, catching him or her being “real” at home or at a café. “I