Chapter 40: FYI: I Outpitched You
Chapter Six
Monday morning arrived with the kind of nervous energy only high-stakes competition and too much coffee could bring. Both teams shuffled into the shared co-working space—laptops in tow, eyes a little bleary, but spirits cautiously optimistic.
The week one win had electrified Beacon & Wren. Peyton had brought in celebratory croissants. Callie, focused and slightly anxious, was already organizing files when her inbox pinged.
Subject: Week Two Assignment: Viral Activation Concept
Objective: Develop an immersive, buzzworthy experience that engages consumers online and in-person. Think guerrilla marketing meets social storytelling.
Guidelines:
Must center around the new campaign slogan: “Fuel Your Rush.”
Must include one physical component and one digital amplification strategy.
Final presentation due Friday.
Callie exhaled. “Okay, team. Looks like we’re going big this week.”
Peyton leaned over her shoulder. “Bigger than skydiving?”
Callie raised a brow. “Let’s not rule anything out yet.”
“Zipline through downtown,” one of the designers joked. “Free can of VitaRush at the landing pad.”
“Only if we want a lawsuit,” Peyton said with a smirk.
“I don’t know,” Callie added dryly. “That might go viral for all the wrong reasons.”
Before she could say more, the room shifted slightly. She looked up to see Miles Thatcher crossing the invisible divider between their halves of the office.
Peyton noticed, too. Her smile faded into polite neutrality.
Miles stopped just short of their table. “Morning.”
Callie stood. “Hey.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wanted to say... congratulations. Last week. Your concept hit. It deserved the win.”
Callie searched his face for sarcasm, for insincerity. But there was none. Just Miles, calm and sincere and—dammit—disarming.
“Thanks,” she said. “It was a team effort.”
“I know. But your vision showed. You’ve always had that.”
Callie blinked. “Always?”
He smiled faintly. “Since freshman year.”
She didn’t answer that. Didn’t know how.
“If anyone had to beat me last week,” he said, “I’m not surprised it was you.”
With that, he offered a short nod and turned back to his side of the room.
Peyton waited until he was out of earshot. “Okay, what was that?”
Callie shrugged, picking up her stylus. “That was Miles being... Miles.”
Peyton arched a brow. “You mean charming, unsettling, or weirdly sincere?”
“Yes.”
They dove into the brainstorm.
“Pop-up locker room experience,” someone offered.
“Parkour-inspired challenge booths,” Peyton countered.
“Crowd-sourced video rush reels,” Callie added. “People tag themselves doing something fast or bold and get featured.”
Ideas filled the whiteboard, each wilder than the last. There were a few “what ifs” that had everyone laughing—like a mobile rush bus or a fitness flash mob in Times Square.
Across the room, Catalyst Media had already started buzzing.
Miles stood at the center of his team, sketching concepts on a tablet.
“Think immersive,” he said. “A VitaRush zone—maybe mobile. Something that travels.”
Elise glanced at him from over her laptop. “You’re in a better mood than I expected.”
“I’m not angry,” he replied.
She raised an eyebrow. “You lost.”
Miles smirked. “I lost to someone great. Doesn’t sting the same.”
As he sat back down, he glanced over at Callie again, watching the way she paced during brainstorms, how she talked with her hands. It was the same passion she’d had during their college group projects—the kind that kept people up all night chasing her ideas.
He remembered her standing in front of the room during their final presentation junior year, her hair pinned up, speaking like the entire pitch lived inside her chest.
He’d been in awe then.
Still was.
Nick chimed in. “I say we launch a ‘Rush Room.’ Timed mental and physical challenges. If people beat the clock, they win merch or drinks.”
“Add a leaderboard. Gamify it,” Marissa said.
Elise sipped her iced coffee. “And influencers. We need eyes. The right ones.”
Miles nodded slowly. “Let’s make it something people talk about before they even know it’s an ad.”
\---
By late afternoon, Callie had stayed behind, alone in their shared workspace. Her team had left after finalizing their pitch outline, but her brain wouldn’t shut off.
She pulled out her sketchpad. Doodled. Scratched notes.
Then flipped to a new page.
A visual started to form—raw, adrenaline-fueled, interactive. She didn’t know what it would become yet, but it had teeth. It had motion.
As she drew, her mind drifted.
Freshman year. Midterms week. She’d been surviving on instant noodles and anxiety when Miles had shown up with her favorite coffee—exactly how she liked it, right down to the cinnamon sprinkle. “Fuel for your brain,” he’d said, sitting across from her in the library.
She remembered laughing, thinking he was the only person who actually saw her.
Then sophomore year hit. And everything changed.
She was mid-sketch when her screen blinked.
New Message: Anonymous
Subject: Just Curious
Body: You beat him once. Can you do it again?
She froze.
There was no name. No signature. Just the eerie quiet that follows a whisper in an empty room.
She reread the message.
Then slowly closed the laptop.
Whatever this next challenge was—it wasn’t going to be simple.
And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be fair.
\---
Still unsettled, Callie packed up her things and stepped out into the evening air. The sidewalks buzzed with post-work traffic, the scent of roasted street peanuts and car exhaust swirling together.
As she rounded the corner, lost in her thoughts, she collided with someone.
“Oh!” she gasped, nearly dropping her sketchpad.
A hand caught it.
“Careful,” came a warm, amused voice. “Didn’t know Beacon & Wren worked their people so hard they couldn’t walk straight.”
She looked up.
Tall. Sharp suit. Crooked smile. Eyes that said I know things you don’t.
He handed her the pad.
“Thanks,” she said, narrowing her gaze.
He grinned. “No problem. I’m Roman.”
She didn’t answer right away, eyeing him cautiously. “Do I know you?”
“Not yet,” he said with a grin. “But I’ve seen you around. The sketches gave you away.”
Her brow lifted slightly. “You know my agency?”
“I know a lot of things. Comes with the job.”
“Which is?”
“Let’s just say... Catalyst likes to keep an eye on the competition.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “Of course you’re one of them.”
Roman chuckled. “Relax, I’m not here to steal secrets. Just admire the view.”
Before she could decide whether to laugh or groan, he winked and turned down the street.
Callie watched him go, a curious flutter forming in her stomach.
She shook her head, smiling despite herself.
The week had only just begun.