Chapter Text
"I hate his guts, Mary," Lily sighs, her fourth black coffee of the day disappearing in one swift gulp.
"You saw what he did in the meeting today. Took my idea of rebranding the hair mask packaging and made it his own. That makes no sense, who does that? Just because he is my manager, it does not mean he can rebrand my ideas as his," Lily rants, frustration evident in her voice.
Mary, calm and composed as ever, takes a deep breath and begins to console Lily. "You know how he operates, Lil. He says ideas are a shared property of the team. That’s the first rule he established when he joined. Besides, he did add the point on distribution strategy enhancement."
"I bet he stole that from Marc—" Lily begins before a knock interrupts her.
Tall, muscular, stormy gray eyes, chiseled bone structure, thick black locks framing his handsome face—it's Sirius Black, recognizable by the way he knocks on the door. Three gentle, rhythmic knocks.
"The usual James gossip, I presume?" Sirius chimes in.
"You know the drill," Mary rolls her eyes.
Both Sirius and Mary know the routine. After every meeting involving Lily and James, there's a rant session where each employee vents to their respective confidants.
"He's looking for you, you know. Says he wants to apologize," Sirius informs Lily.
Lily eyes Sirius skeptically. The smirk on his face tells her otherwise. "He would never apologize. He's an arrogant git, a toerag, and a big baby," Lily scoffs.
"And my brother," Sirius adds.
Mary looks at them incredulously. "Must you both have this conversation in my office? I have a meeting with McGonagall in 20 minutes to present the FY25 Financial Forecast report."
"Right, yes, my apologies, Miss Senior Financial Analyst. Mr. Sirius and I shall let you be. All the best. You got this," Lily banteringly nudges Sirius towards the door, leaving Mary's office with him.
"I'm serious, Lils. He really is apologetic for the way he behaved in that meeting. You have to go talk to him. He's been bending my ear," Sirius insists.
Lily chuckles. "You said you were serious. Fine, I'll talk to him. Only so James doesn't get on your nerves for the rest of the day."
...
She feels slightly uneasy. Was James upset about the way he reacted? All of this felt out of the blue. James Fleamont Potter, Director of Product, her manager, is never apologetic for what he does. Not until now, at least. Sirius did seem solemn in his speech. But, maybe the way Lily stormed off after the meeting set him off.
…
"Thank you for coming," James acknowledges as Lily enters his cluttered office.
If Lily were to compare James’ office to anything, she'd liken it to his own disheveled appearance—papers strewn across the floor like his ruffled, unkempt, dark-black hair, pens without caps scattered about, and half-empty coffee cups adding to the chaos.
"Please, take a seat," James gestures, idly toying with his favorite pen. They both know she's not pleased to be here, and the tension hangs palpably in the air.
"Look, Lily. It was a collaborative effort. I contributed my insights to your idea when presenting it to the execs," James explains, setting the pen down and running a hand through his tousled locks. Lily's gaze involuntarily follows the movement, a fact not lost on James as a sly grin creeps onto his face. "It was merely a strategy to bolster our proposal and to secure a larger budget for the upcoming fiscal year."
And upon reflection, Lily realizes he's right. She hates that he is right (for once).
"To make amends," James continues, locking eyes with her, "I'll ensure the executive team knows it was your brainchild to repackage the hair mask, tailoring the design to our target audience." His brow furrows slightly, awaiting her response.
"Thank you, James… I appreciate your consideration of my ideas. There's no need to escalate this matter further or bring it up with the execs," Lily responds, offering a smile that she hopes appears genuine. "As much as it pains me to admit... you're correct. Our success is truly a team effort, and I'm glad to contribute to it."
Despite their daily interactions and frequent meetings, Lily and James have never quite seen eye to eye. Their differing ideas and communication styles, coupled with an inexplicable tension, have kept them at arm's length. Lily knows deep down that their professional relationship may never truly flourish, and she contemplates seeking a transfer to another branch of Sleekeazy or even exploring job opportunities elsewhere.
As Lily rises to leave, James's softer tone catches her off guard. "Lily, please wait," he calls, his confidence wavering, a shift from their earlier conversation.
"Lily," he begins, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as he absentmindedly toys with a pen again, not looking at her. "What I'm about to ask is personal, and you're well within your rights to decline."
Intrigued and apprehensive, Lily sits in her chair and prompts him to continue.
"I—uh—would you...?" James falters, his gaze averted to a book on his desk before mustering the courage to pose his inquiry, "Would you consider accompanying me to a family event as my girlfriend?"
Caught off guard, Lily's heart skips a beat. She has no desire to date him, but a part of her wants to get to know him better. Since when did this happen? With a heavy workload looming over her, Tuesday mornings are meant for productivity, not navigating faux romantic entanglements.
"I know dating violates company policy," James clarifies, meeting her eyes, causing a flutter in Lily's chest, "I'm proposing a facade, Lily. Will you be my pretend girlfriend?"