That's Not a NO

Chapter 12: Can You Handle the Flame?

Chapter 12: Can you handle the Flame?

It started with a spreadsheet. Or rather, a broken formula in a spreadsheet that Elise hadn't even touched, but had somehow been blamed for fixing.

"There's a gap in Q3 projections," Crystal said, her voice tight over the phone. "Blaze wants it sorted by Monday. You're the best chaos handler I know."

Elise stared at her monitor, which currently displayed 23 open tabs and zero motivation. "That's a bold statement, considering I once set a toaster oven on fire trying to warm croissants."

"You were fifteen."

"Still relevant."

"You'll figure it out."

And then Crystal, as she always did, hung up before Elise could argue. Typical.

By noon, Elise had accidentally deleted the wrong column twice, broken a mechanical pencil in half, and told Josh she was going to crawl under the nearest couch and live there until retirement.

Josh, bless him, merely rolled his chair over and handed her a bottle of water. "Drink. Breathe. Spreadsheet violence won't get you promoted."

"That depends on the company," Elise muttered.

He stayed next to her desk for the next hour, barely saying a word, just a quiet presence that made her feel slightly less like she was drowning.

When Ash popped his head in later that afternoon, grinning like he had a secret, Elise narrowed her eyes.

"What did you do?"

"Why do you assume it's me?"

"Because Kelly doesn't smirk like that, and you've got your I'm-about-to-drop-a-bomb face on."

Ash strolled in and leaned on her desk. "Blaze moved the deadline."

Elise blinked. "He what?"

"Extended it. Apparently, he realized he gave the wrong numbers to begin with. Crystal gave him hell in a boardroom. It was art. Anyway, you've got another week."

She leaned back, groaning in disbelief. "You're kidding."

"I don't joke about miracles."

Then, because he couldn't help himself, he added: "Also, Josh promised to cook for you if you finished by the original deadline, so now we all suffer."

"I did not promise that," Josh called from two desks over.

"You thought about it, though," Ash replied.

The week spiraled from there. Elise took the deadline extension as a challenge rather than a break. Her version of relaxation was working harder with more sarcasm and slightly better snacks. She rebuilt the report from scratch, muttering to herself, throwing post-it notes like ninja stars, and once yelling "WHERE IS YOUR SOURCE DATA" into the void.

Ash brought her not choco daily. Kelly offered bribes in the form of memes and gummy worms. Josh checked her formulas like a soldier checking landmines.

Crystal, meanwhile, was elbows-deep in damage control with Blaze and still found time to swing by Elise's desk, drop a sticky note that read, "You're overthinking this again. Zoom out." and disappear like a caffeine-fueled oracle.

By Thursday, the office had unofficially adopted Elise's project as a team mission. People dropped suggestions in her inbox. Kelly commissioned a stress ball shaped like Blaze's head.

And then Friday hit.

At 10:14 a.m., Elise's file crashed.

Not froze. Not lagged. Crashed.