I steal one last glance at Scarlett before I start. Her fingers are poised above the keyboard, and she’s staring at the screen, face neutral. If she has an opinion on the necessity of the year-end financial review, I’m sure it’ll be in her notes.
“Good afternoon.” My gaze sweeps the room, making contact with each of the senior managers and executives as they murmur their replies. “First and foremost, I want to thank each and every one of you for delivering fantastic results last year. Triada Tech had a record-breaking year, and with the Epos launch, this year will be even better.”
There’s a round of applause and a few high-fives mixed in with raucous shouts of “oh, yeah!” and “you know it.”
Pride fills my chest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of Triada’s killer performance, but this isn’t the pride of a job well done. Nope. It’s the satisfaction of knowing not all of Scarlett’s assessments were spot-on. After all, they wouldn’t be clapping if they all thought I was a demanding prick.
Was there ever any doubt?
Not even a little.
Still, she had a valid point about my greetings being stale, which is why I planned something different for today.
And it worked like a charm.
I flip to the first slide of my presentation, which is projected on the wall behind me, and dive into my prepared comments. Five minutes later, I’m breezing through the topline numbers when the quiettap-tap-tapof a keyboard interrupts my train of thought. My attention shifts to the right side of the table, where Scarlett is typing like a fiend.
What the hell is she writing?
She didn’t take nearly this many notes last time.
Last time, you weren’t the star of the show.
Miles clears his throat, and the meaning is clear—get on with it already.
“As I was saying.” I pause, trying to collect my thoughts. Where did I leave off?Epos. Right. “Last year was challenging, but with the Epos launch, we’ll need to work even harder and put up even bigger numbers this year to hit our targets.”
Fuck. That didn’t come out right.
Talk about an uninspired lead-in.
Nervous laughter ripples around the table.
So much for my new, more personal approach. Should’ve stuck to the numbers. Then Scarlett wouldn’t have to work so hard to keep up. Surely she realizes I don’t expect her to take down everything I say verbatim.
Do you really think that’s what she’s doing?
Not a chance.
She’s probably writing some snarky comment about how I’m ungrateful and demanding, determined to squeeze blood from a stone. I shove the thought aside. The whole point of this meeting is to show her I’m not the cold, controlling prick she imagines. Which won’t happen if I’m focused on what she’s writing and not the words coming out of my mouth.
“We can expect the gap between subscription services and transaction-based revenue to continue widening this year, which you can see reflected in the Q4 shift.” I gesture to the graph behind me. “Finance estimates—”
Tap-tap-tap.
“The typing will grow sixty percent by year end and—”
The VP of Sales raises his hand and I acknowledge him, stuffing down my annoyance at being interrupted. Nine times out of ten, these questions get answered before the presentation is over, but I guess that’s why they say patience is a virtue.
“Perhaps I misheard,” Ben says, a deep groove forming between his brows, “but did you saytypingwill grow sixty percent?”
Fuck. Did I?
My palms begin to itch, and I force a smile. It’s sharp and brittle, likely to shatter with the press of a key.
Thankfully, the room remains blessedly silent when I answer.
“What I meant to say is that transaction-based revenue will grow sixty percent with the Epos rollout.”
