Life After Death by Ice Cream

After my parents had given me the one-month trial, the tension in the room lifted slightly. My mother, Helena, gave me a rare, approving nod, while my father, Gerald, was still his usual guarded self.

"Alright," Gerald said, breaking the silence. "Since we're all here, let's have breakfast. You should eat something before you start your new job tomorrow."

I nodded eagerly. "Sounds great. I'm starving."

The dining room was a testament to luxury polished mahogany table, silver cutlery that sparkled like stars, and a buffet spread that could rival any five-star hotel's breakfast bar.

I grabbed a plate and helped myself to a mountain of croissants, fresh fruit, and eggs Benedict, all while trying to look composed and less like I'd been in a state of frantic panic just moments before.

As we settled into our seats, Gerald began talking about the latest developments in the company.

"So, we've been expanding our entertainment sector. There's a new series we're investing in. It's quite the ambitious project."

"Ambitious is good," I said, chewing thoughtfully. "It's like our very own blockbuster."

Helena chimed in, her tone filled with her usual poise. "Yes, but it's crucial that we manage our investments wisely. We don't want to end up like that one time with the virtual reality theme park."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Gerald grumbled. "I still have nightmares about that roller coaster prototype."

"Hey, I thought it was a great idea!" I said, trying to be optimistic. "If nothing else, it gave us some interesting stories for the next family dinner."

Helena gave me a wry smile. "And it also gave us a significant financial loss. But I suppose we can't fault you for enthusiasm."

I laughed awkwardly, trying to avoid the steely gaze of my father. "So, tomorrow I start at the company? Do I just show up and say, 'Hey, I'm here to save the day'?"

Gerald's expression softened a fraction. "Pretty much. Just be on time, and remember, it's not just about making an impression. You need to demonstrate that you're ready to take on real responsibilities."

"I'll be there bright and early," I promised. "I won't let you down."

As breakfast continued, the conversation drifted to more mundane topics what the gardener had done to the rose bushes, the latest fashion trends, and whether the new chef could make a decent soufflé. I attempted to participate, though my mind kept drifting back to the looming challenge ahead.

After breakfast, I retreated to my room, my mind racing. I needed a solid plan for tomorrow and a strategy to convince my parents that I could actually handle this job. And more importantly, I had only six days left to recruit Elara.

I flopped onto the bed and let out a groan. "Alright, system," I said aloud, "time to talk strategy."

["I'm all ears,"] the system replied, its voice crackling with static. ["You've got six days to get Elara onboard. Have you got any ideas yet?"]

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Well, considering that our previous encounter ended with a -5 favorability score, I think it's safe to say that she's not exactly a fan. Plus, she doesn't have much of a portfolio. How am I supposed to convince my parents to hire her?"

["Good question,"] the system said. ["You need to come up with a plan. Remember, you have the Strategic Planning Skill now. Use it. Figure out how to present Elara in a way that makes her irresistible to your parents."]

"Right," I said, sitting up and pulling out my laptop. "I need to strategize. Elara's a relatively unknown actress. How do I make her the star of the show? How do I convince my parents she's the right choice?"

["Let's break it down,"] the system suggested. ["First, you need to showcase her potential. Find a way to highlight her talent. Maybe arrange for a private audition or get a recommendation from someone credible."]

"Okay, private audition sounds good," I mused. "But who's credible enough to back her up? I don't exactly have a network of industry professionals at my disposal."

["Use what you have,"] the system advised. ["You've been studying the company's operations. Leverage that knowledge to present Elara as a unique opportunity. Show your parents how hiring her can benefit the company in ways they hadn't considered."]

I nodded, starting to feel a bit more confident. "Alright. If I can show my parents how Elara's unique skills could fit into our company's vision and help us stand out, maybe they'll give her a chance."

["Exactly,"] the system said. ["You have the Strategic Planning Skill. Use it to outline a plan that highlights the benefits of bringing Elara on board. Make it clear that this isn't just a whim but a calculated move to enhance the company's portfolio."]

I closed my laptop and sat back, contemplating the task ahead. My mind was already buzzing with ideas for how to frame Elara's potential. I needed to create a compelling case, one that would be hard for my parents to ignore.

My concentration was abruptly shattered by a knock on the door. Mira, poked her head in with a faint smile.

"Miss Amara," she said, "there's an unexpected guest waiting for you in the salon."

I frowned, trying to think of who it could be. "Do you know who it is?"

Mira shook her head. "No idea, miss. They didn't give a name, just said they'd be happy to wait."

"Alright, I'll go see," I replied, my curiosity piqued. I hoped it wasn't some high-society bore or a sales pitch for the latest in diamond-encrusted pet collars.

As I walked through the grand hallway, my thoughts drifted back to the mountain of work awaiting me. I still had to figure out how to get Elara into the company. The clock was ticking, and every minute counted.

When I reached the salon, the last person I expected to see was standing there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Erik.

There he was, the so-called "hero" of this world. His appearance was as flawless as it was infuriating tall, with impeccably styled dark hair and a smug smile that made me want to smack it off his face. His suit was sharp, obviously tailored to perfection, and he looked like he'd just stepped out of a glossy magazine cover.

"Amara," Erik said, his voice oozing with insincerity. "What a pleasant surprise. I thought I'd drop by and say hello."

I forced a smile, though my stomach churned at the sight of him. "Erik. What a shocker. I didn't realize you were on the guest list."

He chuckled, stepping closer and holding out the bouquet. "I brought these for you. I thought it might be nice to catch up. It's been a while."

"Nice of you," I said through gritted teeth, taking the flowers and placing them on a nearby table. "But if this is some sort of apology tour, I'm not interested."

Erik's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Oh, no, no. I just wanted to see how you're doing. You know, after our last conversation."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. The conversation where I told you I wasn't going to bother you anymore and you, in turn, asked me to keep sending you money."

He shifted uncomfortably, though he tried to mask it with a laugh. "Yes, well, about that. I was hoping we could renegotiate the terms. Maybe you could—"

I cut him off, feeling a surge of irritation. "I blocked your number, Erik. You're not getting another cent from me. I'm done with your games."

His face reddened with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. "Amara, come on. I was just—"

"No," I said firmly. "I'm done. So, if you're here to try and charm me into giving you more money or to convince me to do something ridiculous, you're wasting your time."

Erik's expression shifted to one of thinly veiled annoyance. "Well, since you're so determined to be difficult, I suppose I should just leave."

"Good idea," I said with a tight smile. "And do yourself a favor stay away from my life. You're not exactly the type of hero I need in my story."

With a huff, Erik turned on his heel and stormed out of the salon. I watched him go, feeling a mix of satisfaction and lingering disgust.