An enemies-to-lovers spicy novella set in the world of video gaming from the Viola Bowen has the chance of a lifetime: to design a video game based on her all-time favorite book series. The only problem? Her co-lead is Jesse F-ing Andrews, aka her archnemesis. Jesse has made it abundantly clear over the years that he wants nothing to do with her--and Viola has no idea why. When their bosses insist a wintery retreat is the perfect team-building exercise, Viola can’t think of anything worse. Being freezing cold in a remote mountain lodge knowing Jesse is right next door? No, thank you. But as the snow piles on, Viola discovers there’s more to Jesse than she knew, and heat builds in more ways than one.

Autorentext

Ali Hazelwood

Leseprobe
Chapter 1

Let's start with the good news," Mike says, and I immediately clutch the edge of the conference table to brace myself.

It's the specific combination of words-start and good-that switches on my fight-or-flight reflex. It implies that there will be an end, one we can surmise will be bad, and that's not what I want to hear from the CEO of the indie video game studio I work for. My mind, often prone to suspicion and overthinking, cannot help catastrophizing.

Slumps in sales. Impending bankruptcy. Mass layoffs.

On the streets, dumpsters burst into flames.

"You're still welcome to return home. Stay with me for a few weeks while you get back on your feet and look for a real job." Mom's worried voice sounds crystal clear in my head, probably because Thanksgiving was just last week, and she had the opportunity to rehash her talking points multiple times over a five-hour dinner. "Viola, you can't really believe that designing video games will pay the bills in the long term."

And yet, when I glance around the conference room, the rest of the core team broadcasts excitement, lots of it, and no panic. It dials down both my fight and my flight. Clearly, I'm being overcautious. FlyButter Studios is doing great. Better than ever, in fact. Six months ago we released our most successful game to date, selling millions of copies. I was among its lead designers. My job is safer than it's ever been.

Not to mention, a major US video game publisher just invited us to submit a proposal for-

"StarPlay got back to us regarding our ideas for the Limerence 3 game," Mike says. His eyes circle the table and come to rest on me. It makes sense, since I'm in charge of that project. However, I'm not a fan of his three-second dramatic pause, which I spend perched on the edge of my seat, contemplating whether to strangle him. Until he continues, "And they believe we are the right people to develop the new game."

Suddenly, the conference room sounds like Coachella. FlyButter's core team is small, fewer than ten people, but we can make some impressive noise when there's something to celebrate. People clap and whistle. One of our programmers even stands for some quick flossing. It's a rare moment of joy in an industry that's mostly energy drinks sipped late at night while wailing over ergonomic keyboards.

"I don't have to remind you that the Limerence franchise is an incredibly hot property," Mike goes on once the cheering has died down, "and that StarPlay has been in talks with several other studios. So it really speaks to your talent that we were able to impress them with our work."

My gaze catches Ethan's. Like me, he's a game designer, and he and I have been close friends since our first year of college, when we nearly flunked out of a software engineering class because we were too busy . . . talking about video games, for the most part.

He knows, better than anyone else in the room, that The Limerence Saga books were my favorite while growing up. Some of my most cherished memories involve my dad reading them aloud and pointing at the black-and-white illustrations of the first editions-and nearly two decades later, after his eyesight took a turn for the worse, me doing the same for him. When Ethan and I heard that StarPlay, the publisher holding the licensing rights, was thinking of developing the third installment in the game series based on the saga, we immediately started lobbying to have our name in the ring.

I may have taken the lead position when it came to developing a proposal for this project, but Ethan was with me every step of the way. There were a lot of early mornings and late nights to make the deadline-so many that our colleagues at FlyButter started wondering whether we were carrying on a secret affair-but all that work clearly paid off.

Ethan grins at me, and his hand lifts in a high five. I clap back, elated-until Mike cuts through the clamor and continues.

"The catch is . . ."

I stiffen and reclutch the table. Here it comes. The bad news.

"StarPlay would like to do something different from the first two games. The audience has changed, the tech has evolved, the market has expanded, yada yada. They're thinking of adding a significant combat component, which . . . Well, I don't have to tell you guys that our strength lies more on the role-play side of gaming." Mike scratches the back of his neck, like what he's about to say is giving him psoriasis. "As I mentioned, there were other teams in the running to develop the Limerence franchise. One of them is Nephilim Studios, and as you all know-"

A loud snort interrupts him. It overlaps with several grunts, a muttered "Those fuckers," and a swell of murmurs expressing varying degrees of discontent. Our quality assurance manager looks like he might spit on the floor at the mention of Nephilim. I glance around the room, half expecting someone to make the sign of the cross, but Mike spreads his arms to shush the protests and powers through.

"-and as you all know, Nephilim recently put out Zephyr's Blade, which was the combat game of the year. Naturally, they are not as experienced as we are when it comes to role-playing, which is why StarPlay had the, um, unorthodox idea of asking whether we could team up with them and-"

"No." Shannon, our character artist, bursts out of her chair as if intending to flee the premises. The rest of my colleagues remain sitting, but heads are shaking, upper lips are curling, breaths are gasping, and-

"Quiet," Mike orders, and the room hushes. He's usually a relaxed, easygoing boss, but he surveys the room with such a stern expression, I'm a bit scared. "Do I have to remind you that we are a midsized studio? We're in the black now, but every time we develop a new game, we run the risk of the product not being a hit and going bankrupt. You know what kind of opportunity StarPlay's funds would afford us. The influx of cash that would come with producing a Limerence game could carry us for years. So if you could take a seat, Shannon."

Shannon does, fully pouting. The room falls into silence, and Ethan clenches a hand around his mug, like he's considering throwing it across the room. Instead he says, surprisingly calm: "The thing is, we know most of the guys at Nephilim. They're not exactly . . . There is history."

"I am aware. And so is StarPlay. And so is Otto, the head of Nephilim." Mike drops the name casually, as though we're not all aware that Otto and Mike are decade-long fuckbuddies. They're spotted sneaking in and out of each other's hotel rooms about once per convention. Well, Mike sneaks. Otto just struts around, usually holding a box of condoms.

"It's a small industry," Mike continues, "and some of you have, um, worked with Nephilim's employees in the past, been in relationships with them, or had"-he side-eyes at Shannon-"run-ins of other kinds. The compatibility between our teams is a valid concern, and we've been discussing ways of establishing whether a collaboration is possible. And that's why we've come up with an idea." A single deep, fortifying breath. "A few weeks ago, I asked you to bl…