You know,marketing.
He waves my words away. “It will be good to get out and enjoy the outdoors. Plus it means we’ll get a chance to spend more time together.”
Great.Exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid.
“And if that and this mentorship with Wesley both go well, there might be something more in it for you, too.”
“Oh.” I lean back in my chair, suspicious, but interested nonetheless. Richard’s idea of “something more” could mean oh so many things.
“We’ve all noticed how hard you’ve been working and how much it’s paying off. You deserve some recognition for that.”
No matter how tumultuous this relationship has been, receiving praise from Richard still makes me feel like I did on my first day. Eager for more. “Thank you,” I say as a flush crawls up my face.
“How does...” He holds both hands up, like he’s framing a billboard. “VP Marketing sound?”
That sounds...like quite a pay raise. I’m already qualified. The MBA I worked nights and weekends to get finally paying off. As the current Director, I lead our team in pitching accounts and landing new clients. But as VP I’d be able to set goals for Hill City’s internal marketing strategy, increase brand awareness against our bigger competitors. I’d be in charge of the budget and could shape our team to my exact specifications. My eyes widen but that’s the only tell I allow myself.
“Well?” he prods.
“I’m interested,” I say slowly.
Richard laughs. “Don’t sound too excited, Corrine.”
Keeping my excitement to myself isn’t a strategy per se but a defense mechanism. I don’t want Richard to know how much I wantanything. I can’t give him any more power over me than he already has.
And that dims the luster on this shiny new offer. As VP of Marketing I’ll have to spend more time with Richard, consult with him more closely than I already do. Just the thought of it stands my hair on end.
“What do you need to see?” I ask. “What do you need from me?” Because this is the push-pull of working with Richard Skyler. This is everything that I’ve been working toward and now that it’s within my grasp I’m scared to reach out and grab it.
His smile comes back. The one I hate to see on his face. It makes me sick. “Well, just keep up...” He pauses. “All that good work. I think that some of the executives and I would like to sit in on that presentation with the new client you have coming up.”
“The Grimes account?” I can’t keep the thread of panic from my voice.
“Yes, we just want to see you in action. We’re not evaluating you.”
There are too many swear words running through my head to choose the right one for this predicament. Phil Grimes is an overblown egomaniac who sells cars. Or at least, he tries to sells cars. If he actually sold them, he wouldn’t have to come to us to help him. Most of the other executives are also overblown egomaniacs. If they’re all in the same room while I try to close this deal with Grimes, they’ll hijack my meeting.
“Richard, I guess I’m just a little worried that if you’re in the room, he won’t want to hear from me.”
He grins, pleased with himself. If the man had feathers he’d preen. “Don’t worry, Corrine. They won’t even know we’re there. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be enamored with you.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It’s my only alternative to screaming. I nod. “I can do that.”
“And, of course, I want to see how you and Wesley work together. Show me more of those lovely interpersonal skills.” His voice takes on a condescending tone and I answer with a brittle smile.
“Speaking of...” Richard says over his shoulder. “Where is Wesley?”
“Lunch,” I say, with a saccharine smile. The lie rolls off my tongue much easier than I’d expected.
Chapter 9: Wesley
The mattress springs creak and pop as I lie back in bed, the moon illuminating only a square of my comforter. Exhaustion weighs down my limbs and aches in my lower back. There are painkillers in the medicine cabinet in our shared bathroom, but this has beaten me. I can’t even lug my body out of bed to get them. The past week has murdered my motivation.
The pocket of my coat buzzes and I stifle my groan and roll to one side, digging my phone out.
“Leave me alone, you beautiful monster!” I shout into the quiet of my bedroom.
But it’s not Ms. Blunt. It’s Amy.
