Meet Scarlett Striker, a bold and quirky journalist for the Seattle Times. She's fun, confident, sassy, and just the right amount of weird. Scarlett is determined to rise to the top, no matter what it takes.
When her boss offers a golden opportunity...
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The bar is buzzing with energy, the warm glow of amber lights casting a cozy yet vibrant atmosphere over the bustling downtown Seattle crowd. We've all crammed into a booth at a bar, The Copper Vine, where the music hums softly in the background and the conversation flows even easier.
Scarlett's lounging next to me, her feet up on the edge of the booth like she owns the place, swirling her drink and making sharp, sarcastic comments about everything from the décor to the weird group of guys huddled by the pool table. Her eyes, though, keep drifting toward Adriel, who's sitting across from her with a charming grin, clearly amused by her sass.
"You know, Scarlett, I'm not sure if you're roasting the bar or flirting with it," Adriel teases, raising an eyebrow.
Scarlett shoots him a pointed look. "Oh, trust me, Adriel, you'd know if I was flirting. I don't play hard to get—I play impossible to get."
"Sounds like a challenge I'm willing to take," Adriel replies smoothly, leaning back in his chair with that effortless confidence he seems to have. He's charming in a way that draws you in—sharp, but not arrogant. Adventurous, like he's ready to take on the world at any moment.
Eva, who's sitting beside Josh, laughs so brightly it makes the whole table light up. "Scarlett's always like this. I swear, she'll roast you into oblivion but secretly have a soft spot for you."
Scarlett rolls her eyes but smirks. "I don't have a soft spot for anyone."
"Please," I say, nudging her shoulder. "If you had a dog, you'd name it 'Don't Touch Me' but secretly feed it gourmet steak."
Tom claps his hands dramatically, as if I've just said something profound. "Can we talk about how true that is? Scarlett would be the type to have a pet but act like it's a roommate who doesn't pay rent."
Everyone bursts out laughing, and Scarlett just shrugs, sipping her drink like she doesn't care.
Josh, who's always the quieter one in the group, smiles shyly, but I can see he's holding back something. "So, uh, speaking of soft spots... Elizabeth," he says, turning to me with a mischievous glint in his eye, "how's Mr. Bryant doing? You know, your boyfriend Chris."
Oh, here we go. I can already feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and I try to play it off with a casual shrug. "Chris is fine. Busy with work, as usual. We've been keeping things... you know, professional." I say, but my voice falters slightly at the end, and I know Tom's about to jump in.
"Professional? Honey, there is nothing professional about the way you two look at each other in the office. If Chris was any more obvious, he'd put up a neon sign saying 'Elizabeth is mine' above your desk," Tom says, drinking his drink dramatically.
"Seriously!" Eva chimes in, her bright eyes wide with excitement. "You guys are like... couple goals. I swear, every time I see you two together, it's like straight out of a rom-com."
