I smell the roses on my desk and buzz Lydia, the office junior, to bring a jug of water and glasses to my office.

As I wait, I admire the new painting hanging on the wall directly opposite my workspace. It arrived a few days ago.

Attached to it was a little note: From your greatest admirers.

Every time I look at it, I’m overcome with gratitude. How lucky am I to have such supportive people in my life?

The painting is of a boat tied to a pier. I love the blue of the ocean and the story the boat tells. Every time I’m stuck for ideas, I stare at the painting, and words start to flow again.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.

“Come in,” I call.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Brad pokes his head through the door, closely followed by Scott.

“He’s not here yet?”

I shake my head.

“But he’s not due for another five minutes or so.”

Brad checks his watch.

“Told you there’s no need to rush.” He turns to Scott.

“But if we hadn’t rushed, we’d be late.”

I look from one to the other and back again, following their friendly banter, much like following a tennis match.

A polite cough from the door stops the conversation.

“I hope I’m not interrupting something?”

I leave my desk and walk to the door to greet Mr. Prong.

“On the contrary, Mr. Prong, we were just talking about you coming to the meeting.”

We all take a seat.

“I have to say, Kayla, I have been very impressed with your work.”

Straight to the point and no pleasantries—time’s money for this man as it is for me. Since Ed’s walkout and my explosive speech—that’s what Brad calls it—I’ve been bursting with creativity. The ideas and words pour onto the page.

“She’s an excellent writer,” adds Brad as if he needs to convince the head of the network to keep me on.

Butterflies multiply in the pit of my stomach, and a feeling of warmth hugs me. Power, control, love—they are awesome feelings.

“She’s that and other things,” Mr. Prong agrees.

I clear my throat. It is time to stay cool, calm, and collected, I remind myself.

“As I was saying, you’ve impressed me and the other members on the board. We’ve noticed a significant increase in ratings since you took control of the writing and got rid of that useless actor.”

Mr. Prong pauses. I notice his fingers twirl a pen through his hands.

“Thank you.” I bow my head a little, more to break the silence than anything else. I don’t have much experience in the world of business and negotiations, so I’m a little nervous.

True to my ballet teacher’s words, I involuntarily straighten up and instantly feel taller and calmer. Dance with confidence and no one will know if you are dancing the wrong moves.

“I have had our legal department draw up some paperwork,” Mr. Prong continues and puts a thick bundle of papers in front of me.”

He reaches into his briefcase a second time to pull out more papers. It looks intimidating.

“And these are for you.” He smiles at Brad and Scott as he hands them a slightly thinner bundle of papers. On second thought, it might not be thinner at all.

I randomly flick through the pages, and the words blur in front of my eyes.

“I don’t expect you to read through all of it now,” Mr. Prong says, and I look at him. “Today I want to focus on the key points of the contract, like the length of time. You will get plenty of opportunity to read though it and ask any questions later.”

“I see you have the length of the contract blank,” Brad says, and I find it is the same on mine.

“I thought we should do two years,” Mr. Prong says and leans back in his chair.

It’s my turn to play with my pen. Instead of engaging in acrobats with it, I unscrew its back and put it back on.

“Two years in this industry isn’t very long.” I glance at Scott and Brad.

Scott is holding up five fingers. My thoughts exactly.

“What did you have in mind?” Mr. Prong is polite in his question.

“I think it should be at least five years. This show isn’t one of those fly-by-night, five-minutes ones. It is here for the long haul.”

I hold my breath as I watch Mr. Prong scribble something on his contract.

“Done. Anything else?”

That was easy. Was it too easy? Do I need to be on guard?

I clear my throat.

“There’s a couple of other matters I would like to address now before we are too far down the track and it becomes too difficult to raise again.”

It is Mr. Prong’s turn to bow his head a little.

“I want full creative rights as head writer.”

I hold up my hand as I see Mr. Prong wants to say something.

“That does not mean I won’t consult with others on the team. I am a team player, very much so. But I don’t want to have happen what happened with Ed.”

I might have put too much emphasis on the words team player, but I want to get my point across.

Silence.

Eventually, Mr. Prong scribbles something on the page.

“Agreed. Anything else?”

I take a deep breath in. “I want you to give me the position of producer as well.”

“You?” Mr. Prong doesn’t hide his surprise. There may even be a hint of disapproval in his voice. “You have no experience as a producer, from what I recall.”

This might be harder than I thought.

I nod. No point disagreeing. If I’m going to sell myself, I need to be honest.

“You are right, I have never worked as a producer. But I have all the right qualities. I have an abundance of creativity.” I pause to think what else I need to add.

“I am able to lead a team of diverse people. My planning and organizational skills are exceptional, and I can work to a budget.”

If he doesn’t agree, I don’t know what else I can say.

To my surprise, Mr. Prong nods.

“Done.” He makes to stand.

“If you can, have signed contracts back to my assistant within the week. Let her know if you need any other changes included.”

When he’s gone, Scott comes over and picks me up to twirl me around once. Brad comes over and hugs me.

“You were awesome, gorgeous,” both say at the same time.

I grin from ear to ear. Boy, I feel good.

Brad takes my right hand and Scott my left. They both look me in the eyes.

“Baby,” Scott starts. “We just want you to know we think the world of you, and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Brad nods.

“The way you kick ass, I love it.” Brad kisses me on the cheek.

I feel tears well up—tears of happiness.

“Kayla,” they both say, and I look from one to the other. “We love you.”

I put my arms around both of them.

I lean forward, and Scott finds my mouth. He pushes his tongue past my lips and finds mine.

I feel Brad’s hands travel up my top and squeeze my breasts. My lips leave Scott’s and finds Brad’s.

I know how we’ll be celebrating for the rest of the day.