The Slack notifications erupted at 10:03 a.m., buzzing with such ferocity that Lila Carter's coffee cup nearly slipped from her hand.
[Water Cooler]: CEO's Instagram just went live—caption reads "Love's a dumpster fire compared to Q3 earnings." Geotagged at Joe's 24/7 Bodega. Six-pack in frame. Screenshots attached!
Lila's thumb hovered over her phone screen. She should've been proofreading merger documents for Ethan Voss—her razor-edged boss of three years—but Mia's tear-streaked face demanded attention. Her college roommate currently occupied Lila's couch, demolishing a pint of mint chocolate chip with the vengeance of a scorned woman.
"Look," Lila angled her phone toward Mia. Ethan's post depicted a grimy bodega shelf: half-crushed beer can, dog-eared copy of The Art of Losing, and shadows that reeked of poor life choices. "This is Ethan Voss. The guy who acquired a startup just to steal their Nespresso machine. If even he gets ghosted, your ex was clearly defective."
Mia squinted through puffy eyelids. "Why'd you heart this?"
Ice slithered down Lila's spine.
There it was—her name glaring beneath Ethan's post. Lila Carter. Solitary crimson heart against a digital wasteland.
The memory surfaced: 3 a.m. haze, editing his merger proposal when his voice memo materialized. "Carter, I've been dumped." She'd fired back a question mark, only for the message to vanish. This morning, bleary-eyed scrolling, muscle memory guiding her thumb to double-tap his bodega photo (Is he spiraling? Should I—) and…
"Oh god."
"Oh god," she parroted, collapsing beside Mia.
Melting ice cream pooled in Mia's lap. "Termination papers. By Friday. Guaranteed."
Lila pressed a throw pillow against her face. "I just signed a lease. I can't afford unemployment. Hell, I can't afford this Ben & Jerry's."
Ethan Voss didn't do disheveled.
Yet when Lila entered his corner office the next morning, there he sat—tie askew, five o'clock shadow, obsessively refreshing his phone. Morning light carved hollows beneath his bloodshot eyes.
She rapped twice on the glass door. "Merger docs are finalized for—"
"Explain the heart." His voice rasped like gravel in a tumbler.
"Accident!" The lie scorched her tongue. "I thought it was Mr. Whiskers' bowtie photo!"
Ethan's mouth twitched. "Mr. Whiskers averages two hundred likes. This?" He rotated his phone, displaying her lone interaction. "Got precisely one."
Lila's cheeks ignited. "Professional concern! You sent that voice memo, then ghosted me—"
"Professional courtesy?" He arched an eyebrow, the ghost of amusement playing across his lips.
Her rebuttal died as his phone vibrated. He scanned the screen, then stood with sudden purpose, straightening his Brioni suit. "Cancel my investor call. You're coming uptown."
"Where?"
"Midtown Convention Center. Heartbreak Expo."
She blinked. "The… jilted lovers' carnival?"
"Ex's sister runs it." He jingled his car keys. "Wants me to 'share my journey.' Need a human shield."
Lila trailed him, heels clacking. "Why me?"
He paused at the elevator, half-smirking. "Who else would stop me from dropkicking the 'Chakra Alignment for Betrayed Souls' booth?"
The Heartbreak Expo was a glittering hellscape.
Ethan spent the first hour glaring at a "Soulmate Detox" juice bar, muttering about "kale-infused grift." By noon, Lila had steered him to the "Vintage Love Tokens" exhibit—his ex's pet project.
"Tell me this atrocity belongs in a landfill." He jabbed at a gilded wristwatch resembling a disco ball.
Lila tilted her head. "It's… distinctive."
"Horrendous liar." His chuckle surprised them both.
She grinned. "It's what a Rolex and a toaster oven would birth after tequila shots."
Ethan's laughter boomed across the exhibition hall, drawing stares. Lila froze—she'd never heard that sound before. Unfiltered. Human.
As twilight painted the city gold, they lingered outside the convention center. Ethan's tie now hung limp over his shoulder, first two buttons undone.
"Today." He cleared his throat. "You didn't treat me like a corporate malfunction."
Lila shrugged, pulse thrumming. "Job description."
"Bullshit." He stepped closer, exhaustion softening his edges. "This wasn't in your contract."
Her phone erupted—Slack notifications cascading with expo photos: CEO & EA: Collab or Collapse?
Lila's neck burned. "The rumor mill's churning."
Ethan's smirk returned, sharp and dangerous. "Let them choke on it."
The Catskills retreat featured a log cabin, obligatory bonfire, and karaoke machine that smelled faintly of poor decisions.
Lila avoided Ethan all evening, nursing a Corona while Mia flirted shamelessly with the new intern. Then Ethan commandeered the microphone, silencing the room.
"Word on the street is someone enjoys my suffering." His gaze hooked Lila. "Let's test that theory—turns out I'm better at chasing her than closing deals."
The cabin detonated with whoops. Mia nearly upended her margarita cackling.
Lila rose, beer sloshing. "You're wasted."
Ethan vaulted off the stage, closing the distance. "Sober enough to recognize three years of idiocy."
She stilled. "What?"
"Late nights. Crisis management. You shielding me from vulture capitalists." His thumb brushed her wrist. "Thought it was transactional. Then I saw that heart…"
Lila's breath shallowed. "And?"
His smile turned rueful. "Next existential crisis? Don't double-tap. Just kiss me."
The room dissolved into chaos. Mia's wolf whistle pierced the din.
Lila looped her arms around his neck, laughter bubbling. "Counteroffer accepted."
Epilogue: The Like That Started It All
Three months later, Lila paused her Instagram scroll—Ethan's latest post featured Mr. Whiskers sporting a miniature bowtie.
Caption: Turns out mergers are harder than relationships. All credit to my damage control expert.
She tapped the heart.
Ethan's chin settled on her shoulder. "Rule one: No pity-liking my disaster posts."
"Rule two," she countered, twisting to meet his lips. "Always like the cat content."
His laughter vibrated against her mouth. "Non-negotiable."
As Slack notifications mushroomed with heart emojis and popcorn GIFs, Lila decided some digital footprints were worth leaving—especially when they paved the road to home.