The build was solid.

  Ariel sat back in her chair, her notes on Wispwood Haven’s Act 2 final cut stacked neatly beside her. The test playthrough had gone smoother than she expected—almost everything landed as it should. A few small animation glitches, a single misaligned cutscene trigger, and a mildly confusing fetch quest objective, but otherwise? It sang.

  Jim reviewed her notes in silence, nodding along, a small smile playing under his mustache. “These are good,” he said finally. “Concise. Fair. You caught the mushroom jitter in the forest camp, which QA flagged too, but your notes were clearer. And I like the tone. You’re direct, but you don’t undercut anyone.”

  Ariel felt her cheeks warm with quiet pride. “I figured I’d send it to the dev team as-is. Want me to loop Abigail in?”

  Jim shook his head. “Already did. She’ll love it.”

  She smiled, still amazed at how natural this all felt now. How the meetings, the documentation, even the heavier leadership moments no longer left her second-guessing. She was still Ariel, still soft and a little unsure, but she was growing into this role like it had been waiting for her.

  Jim leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “So. Let’s continue our conversation from the other day about your more public responsibilities.”

  She tilted her head, alert now.

  Jim tapped the edge of his tablet. “You’re going to start getting invited to events. Nothing huge to begin with. Mostly local stuff, maybe a few regional things. You won’t be doing keynote speeches or anything unless you want to, but showing up, being visible, talking to players and the press...”

  Ariel nodded along, her head swimming with old anxieties.

  Jim smiled gently. “I know it’s not your favorite thing. But you’ll never be alone at those. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  He tapped again, pulling up a personnel roster. “You know Tony, right? My PR Manager?”

  Ariel nodded. Tony had always been around in the background. Professional, calm, and masterfully good at deflecting bad questions with charm and defusing tension with a laugh. “Of course. He was at the last studio mixer.”

  “Right. Well, Tony’s leaving. Moving to Paradox next week.”

  “Oh.” Ariel’s brow furrowed. “Is that related to…?”

  “No bad blood. He’s just ready for something new. Tomorrow’s his last day.”

  Jim gave her a moment, then continued. “But Tony didn’t just manage my appearances. He did a lot of heavy lifting for Willowbound’s public image. And technically, the PR budget he operated under was mine—personal to the Director.”

  Ariel frowned slightly. “Wait. You mean...?”

  “You have the option to hire your own PR Manager.”

  There was a long pause. Ariel blinked. “A… personal PR person?”

  Jim grinned. “Yep. Someone to help you prep for appearances, coach you through interviews if needed, liaise with community managers, soften messaging. Whatever you need. It’s your call if you want one. You don’t have to fill the role, but the budget’s there. And I’ll tell you now, it made my life easier. Tony kept things smooth. Protected my time. Kept me sane when I was juggling twelve balls in the air.”

  Ariel let out a surprised laugh, half-wheezing. “I thought you were joking when you said PR was like armor.”

  “It is,” he said seriously. “And you’ll need armor, Ariel. You’re not just a lead dev anymore. You’re the name behind the game.”

  She didn’t answer right away. Her thoughts were already moving ahead: press, events, talking to strangers, managing the studio’s public voice. It wasn’t just terrifying. It was exhausting to even think about.

  And yet...

  She imagined Holly, wide-eyed and grinning across the table, cracking a joke about how she’d make Ariel wear a cape to interviews. “You’d get tackled by a marketing intern before the second question,” Holly would tease. “Let me handle them, Red.”

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  Ariel smiled softly to herself.

  Jim didn’t miss it. “You thinking of someone?”

  Ariel shrugged, playing it off. “Not seriously. Just… funny thought.”

  Jim chuckled. “Hey, whoever it is, just make sure they’re good with people. And good with you.”

  “I will.”

  The apartment was filled with the warm, savory glow of a meal in full swing.

  Dinner tonight had been an event: braised short ribs that fell apart at the touch of a fork, garlic mashed potatoes whipped silky smooth with heavy cream and sharp white cheddar, roasted carrots glazed in honey and cracked black pepper, and a bowl of green beans sautéed in butter and lemon zest. A dish of mushroom gravy sat proudly in the center of the table, already half gone.

  Ariel lounged in her chair with a blissed-out sigh, her sweater slightly rucked up over her soft, stuffed belly. “If I die tonight,” she murmured, eyes fluttering closed, “let the coroner know I died happy. And incredibly full.”

  Holly, picking at the last carrot on her plate, smirked. “You say that every time we eat like this. You’re going to need a warning label.”

  “I already have one. It’s my walk.”

  Holly laughed. “True. Your waddle legally comes with cuddle quotas.”

  Ariel cracked open one eye and grinned. “You just want an excuse squeeze me.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Holly said, reaching for her cider. “I'll squeeze you so hard, Red.”

  They basked in the afterglow of good food, slow conversation, and a room filled with the soft ambient warmth of early evening. Candlelight flickered on the sideboard. Somewhere across the apartment, the little green Junimo plush in the window kept quiet watch.

  Eventually, Ariel stirred again and sat up straighter, absently running her fingers along the rim of her wine glass. “So. Funny thing Jim told me today.”

  Holly perked up. “Oh?”

  “We were reviewing the final cut of Act 2 - barely needed any fixes, by the way - and afterward he started talking about my more public responsibilities in more detail. Said I should start getting invites to local events pretty soon."

  Holly placed her hand on Ariel's shoulder and smiled. "How are you feeling about that?"

  “I’ll survive,” Ariel muttered. “But here’s the weird part. Jim started talking about his old PR Manager, Tony. Remember him?”

  “The one with the glasses and the effortless charm?”

  “Yeah, him. Jim said Tony was his secret weapon. Managed all his appearances, press stuff, interview prep, even kept fans from cornering him in hotel lobbies.”

  Holly laughed. “Sounds like a human force field.”

  “Exactly.” Ariel nodded. “And Jim goes, all casual, ‘Oh, by the way, since Tony’s leaving tomorrow, and the PR budget technically falls under the Director's office, that means you’ve got an open headcount for your own PR Manager.’”

  Holly blinked. “Wait. Really?”

  “Yup.” Ariel leaned forward, grinning. “Apparently I can just… hire someone. To talk to people for me. Help with messaging. Manage appearances. Basically, a professional buffer between me and the terrifying abyss of public interaction.”

  Holly choked on her cider and coughed into a napkin. “Are you kidding me? That’s amazing.”

  “I thought it was a joke at first,” Ariel said, laughing softly. “But he was totally serious. Said it made his life ten times easier.”

  Holly leaned her chin into her hand, eyes sparkling. “So... you gonna hire someone?”

  “I mean, I wasn’t planning on it.” Ariel picked up a biscuit and tore it open, watching the steam rise. “But then I remembered something.”

  “Oh?”

  Ariel gave her a sly look. “I already live with someone who has a perfect track record for defusing tense situations, sweet-talking angry people, and managing one extremely overloaded game dev.”

  Holly raised an eyebrow. “You trying to say I’m PR material?”

  “I’m saying if anyone ever needed a handler, it’s me. And you’ve already proven you can handle me.”

  Holly laughed, reaching over to steal the biscuit half from Ariel’s hand. “Red, I’m gonna need to see a salary range before I even think about updating my résumé.”

  “You want perks?” Ariel leaned back, stretching. “I can offer competitive cuddle packages and unlimited access to all future leftovers.”

  “That’s better than the café already.” Holly winked. “But I’ll need a signing bonus in the form of dessert.”

  They both laughed, the idea still floating somewhere between joke and maybe.

  Ariel softened, watching Holly across the table. “I know I’m not ready to make any real decision yet. But it was nice, hearing Jim talk about how much Tony helped. How it wasn’t just about media stuff, but about having someone he trusted to keep the chaos at bay.”

  Holly’s teasing smile faded into something gentler. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Ariel hesitated, then added, “And when he said that, you’re the first person I thought of. It's just...there's no way that could work out, right? That has to fall under some HR no-no, hiring my girlfriend to work for me.”

  “Well,” she said with a playful, “That's probably true. Can't have you being the boss at home AND at work, can I?”

  Ariel chuckles and puts her hand on her own belly. "Vi, I think this is proof that you're the boss at home."

  They evening dissolved into easy laughter and jokes about all of the insane things Holly would do as a PR manager as the world outside faded into silvered moonlight, the warm glow of streetlamps, and the muffled sounds of the city around them.