When Sparks Fly

“Because you said anyone against bendy straws was a devil worshipper. Then you went on to say being able to use a bendy straw was more important than saving turtles from the environmental damage that they cause, which also happens to be one of the key freaking initiatives that Go Green has backed for the past several years,” London states matter-of-factly. “The CEO spearheaded the entire campaign surrounding restaurants shifting to paper straws in order to prevent the unnecessary and inhumane death of the turtles.”

“Oh. Well, that’s not good.”

“No, it really isn’t. We needed that sponsorship after I lost the alumni contract, and now we’re back to square one.” London rubs her temples.

I sort of want to do the same thing, considering the way this is making my head pound.

“What’s going on out here?” Declan appears at the end of the hall, wearing nothing but a pair of gray track pants. His hair is a mess, but instead of looking like something the cat dragged in, he’s ridiculously delicious. He runs a hand through his hair, making his biceps pop.

London doesn’t even look his way. “It’s Spark House business; it doesn’t involve you.”

He crosses his arms. “Actually, since you’re out here getting heated with Avery, in what happens to be our home, I think it does involve me.”

“You know what, on second thought, you might be right, because from what I understand, it was you and your friends who videoed her slamming environmentally responsible practices and allowed her to post it on our social media for all of our clients to see!” London’s eyes flash with ire.

Declan’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about? I would never have let Avery post a video like that.”

“Well, someone must have, because it was up on the Spark House account for hours before we realized what was going on and pulled it down.”

“Avery was a mess. I didn’t think she’d actually post it.”

“Why would you even take a video like that in the first place?” London asks.

“Honestly, it was an accident. Avery kept saying she had important things to say, and I thought I wasn’t recording but I guess I was. She must have sent it to herself without me realizing it? I didn’t think she would even be able to manage that considering the state she was in, so I can’t imagine that she would have posted it intentionally.” Declan gives me a worried look.

London squeezes the bridge of her nose. “Intentional or not, this cost us a massive sponsor and some amazing opportunities which, frankly, we could have used right now!”

“Maybe I can talk to the sponsor and explain what happened,” I offer.

“What are you going to say? That you accidentally ate a whole bunch of weed brownies, and your boy toy videoed you ranting about how inconvenient it is that you can’t use bendy straws when you’re high? You are the one who has been pushing for expansion, Avery, and without a sponsor, that can’t happen. We’re barely keeping our heads above water as it is.”

“We can’t be in that bad of shape.” At least I didn’t think we were.

London looks at Harley and sighs. “We’ve had to turn down a couple of events because we couldn’t make it work without you. And two prospective clients hinged on having the sponsorship funding with Go Green. Without that, it changes a lot of things. And before you say it, Declan, I told you taking out a loan is frivolous and not smart for our bottom line.”

“Wait. Why is this the first I’m hearing about this? About any of this?”

Declan rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to tell you, but London felt it wasn’t a good idea.”

London throws her hands in the air. “I wanted to be able to fix it! I wanted to prove that I could handle it on my own.”

Declan raises a hand. “I know and I get it, but leaving her in the dark isn’t exactly helpful either.”

“I’d hoped we’d be able to get them to reconsider.” London clasps her hands together, probably to keep from fidgeting since she doesn’t have those star strips she usually keeps handy. “And I didn’t want to put more pressure on you when you were already dealing with enough.”

“You would have wanted to return to work if you’d known, and you would have set yourself back. You can try to deny it all you want, but we all know what you’re like.” Harley takes me by the arm and leads me to the couch. “You need to sit down; you’re pale and the last thing we need is you passing out.”

I sit, embarrassed and frustrated with this whole thing. I can see all sides, and I’ve made it worse because I got messed up last night and did something stupid. “My rant must have been pretty bad,” I mutter.