The following week at the office felt like a long, uphill climb. The sting of losing the deal lingered, casting a shadow over every meeting and brainstorming session. Lila noticed it in the way her team moved through the halls—less chatter, fewer smiles. Even the breakroom, usually alive with banter, felt muted.
She knew the energy needed to shift.
On Wednesday morning, as the team trickled into the conference room for their weekly status update, Lila stood at the front with an uncharacteristic brightness in her eyes. A large pad of colorful sticky notes was tucked under her arm.
"All right, everyone, before we dive into numbers and deadlines, we're doing something different today," she announced.
Nathan groaned dramatically, dropping his bag on the floor. "Please don't tell me it's team yoga. I'm still sore from our 'bonding hike.'"
Lila chuckled. "No yoga, Nathan. Relax. This is about ideas—raw, unfiltered creativity." She waved the sticky notes in the air. "Each of you is going to write down one big, bold idea for a future campaign. It doesn't have to be polished or perfect. It just has to be exciting."
Max raised an eyebrow. "And this is supposed to help us recover from losing that deal?"
"It's supposed to remind us why we do this in the first place," Lila said, her voice steady. "Because if we lose our passion, the losses will only feel heavier. So, humor me."
With a few reluctant shrugs and hesitant nods, the team got to work. The room filled with the scratch of pens and the quiet murmurs of colleagues bouncing ideas off one another.
Ethan, seated across from Lila, scribbled something down before catching her eye. He held up his sticky note for her to see: Flying drones that deliver coffee to office workers.
She laughed, shaking her head. "Ridiculous."
"Brilliant," he countered with a grin.
Reigniting the Fire
By the time the exercise ended, the whiteboard at the front of the room was covered in a rainbow of sticky notes. Some ideas were wildly impractical, others refreshingly original.
Valerie pointed to one of Nathan's notes. "'Virtual reality grocery shopping'? How does that even work?"
"It doesn't," Nathan admitted with a laugh. "But imagine pitching it as the future of retail convenience. It could be huge!"
The room came alive again as the team dissected each idea, spinning concepts and laughing at the absurdities. For the first time in days, the weight of failure seemed to lift.
As the meeting wound down, Lila stepped back and surveyed the board. "This," she said, gesturing to the chaotic collage of ideas, "is why we're here. Not for the deals, not for the deadlines, but for the possibility of creating something that changes the game."
The team left the room with lighter steps, their spirits noticeably higher.
A Quiet Moment
Later that evening, Lila stayed behind, organizing files and finishing emails. She was deep in thought when Ethan knocked on her doorframe.
"You're still here?" he asked, leaning casually against the wall.
"I could ask you the same," she replied, motioning for him to come in.
He stepped inside, hands in his pockets. "I wanted to say… what you did today? It was exactly what we needed. The team feels more alive again."
She smiled, setting down her pen. "Sometimes I think this job is more about managing people's energy than anything else."
"You're good at it," he said sincerely.
His words settled over her, warm and grounding. "Thanks, Ethan. That means a lot."
He lingered, his gaze softening. "You know, it's not just the team you inspire. You push me, too. To be better, to think bigger. I don't say it enough, but… I'm grateful for you."
Her chest tightened at his honesty. "I'm grateful for you, too," she said quietly.
The moment hung in the air, delicate and unspoken. Then, as if sensing her need for space, Ethan smiled and stepped back toward the door.
"Don't work too late," he said.
"I'll try," she replied, watching him leave.
As the office fell silent again, Lila allowed herself a small moment of pride. They had lost a battle, but they hadn't lost their spark. And in the end, that was what truly mattered.