“That route isn’t what the company was thinking with this project,” he states flatly, frowning, as he briefly lifts his gaze to me.
“I know.” I move closer, ready to make my hard sell. “It’s completely different. Many of the company’s ideas center around the young, hip millennial who’s a mover and shaker, but I think that’s the wrong way to go. Speaking as someone in that generation, we’re constantly—”
“Janine, that sounds interesting. Look, talk it over with Zeke. You two hash out a couple of ideas and we’ll reconvene on Wednesday to decide what to go with. Marvin and his team will be back in the office on Friday to see what we’ve come up with.” He nods and picks up his phone to begin placing a call.
Feeling slightly defeated, my shoulders slump as I turn to head out of the office. It’s obvious I’m being dismissed. However, as I retrace my footsteps to my desk, I am buoyed by the knowledge that Danny didn’t give me a hardno.He may not be as enthused by the idea as I am but maybe it’s just because I didn’t have the chance to present the research just yet.
“Good morning, Zeke,” I say as he approaches his desk.
Pausing to pull the over-the-shoulder strap of his cloth briefcase over his head, he gives me a curt nod, I guess as an acknowledgement, but no words actually spill from his lips.
I’m undeterred. “I know you’re just getting settled in, but I wanted to run something past you.”
“I need coffee,” he sighs and turns, heading back toward the front of the open office space where the kitchen area is.
Gritting my teeth, I patiently wait for him to return by pulling open my notebook and carefully reviewing the notes that I took the day before in preparation for this campaign.
This time when Zeke returns, I give him a few minutes to settle in first. I realize that with Danny my approach needed to be a little different. He is typically on the phone or with clients, or in some type of meeting at all hours of the work day. If you don’t catch him first thing in the morning, it’s difficult to find another time to approach him unless you’re already on his schedule.
Zeke—being my desk partner—is different, although he likely says fewer words to me throughout the day than Danny does.
“Zeke,” I say, moving my head around my computer after checking and returning some emails, “I spoke with Danny this morning about the Digita Technologies campaign. I—”
“Why would you do that?” he questions in a clipped tone.
I blink and gather my thoughts, pushing down the anger that rises in me at his lack of patience. “Because I think I came up with a really great way to approach this rollout.” Before he can reject or interject with anything, I stand and bring my notebook around to his side to show him what I am talking about.
“Danny said to discuss my idea with you—”
“Probably because he didn’t want to hear it.”
I glower at him. But I refuse to let him take me out of my good mood. “Or because he was busy and he wanted you to do your damn job to help train me.”
“What did you say?”
I shake my head. “You heard me the first time. Look, I’ve been researching, and the stats say that about fifty percent of millennials are parents. More than one million millennial women become mothers each year. That is a huge market. Of course, we can narrow it down further, but I believe focusing on the momprenuer—”
“What the hell is amomprenuer?”
“It’s a mother, obviously, but she is starting or is currently running her own business from home. Many millennial mothers are learning to not only stay home with their kids while they’re young, but also bring in extra income while doing it. The internet has—”
“And what does this have to do with Digita?”
“Well, their new app is perfect for this type of person. It combines scheduling, finances, project management, and even social activities all in one. This is exactly the type of app a momprenuer would love to get their hands on.”
Zeke pauses and looks over my notes.
Just when I think I’m starting to get somewhere, he lifts his head and rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous. Digita came in and specifically gave us the marketing research they’ve done. They know who they want to appeal to, and themomprenuer.” he says mockingly, “isn’t it.”
He tuts, shaking his head and pushing my notebook out of his line of sight.
Taking a step back, I lift my notebook from his desk and look over my notes, swallowing the lump of embarrassment in my throat.
“But what if—”
“You really want to know how you can be of help on this campaign?”
My ears perk up as I ready to hear any suggestions Zeke might have for improving this idea of mine. My hopes are dashed when I peer down at his narrowed hazel eyes and wrinkle in his forehead.
