Marcus Wiles appeared in the archway, his scowl melting into a brilliant smile, eyes lit up with practiced warmth. “Miss Li! Mr. Wang!” said Marcus, voice dripping with sugar. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Not at all,” I managed, clutching my executive summary to my chest.
When Marcus smiled, his teeth almost blinded me. I had met plenty of super-rich, super-successful people in my line of work. People who had personal chefs, personal trainers, even personal closet organizers. Marcus must have had a personal dentist who bleached his teeth every morning before he came into work.
“Shall we?” He swept his arm toward the elevator banks, much like a medieval executioner might direct condemned prisoners toward the dungeon for a full day of latte crotch burns and sitting on uncomfortable sex furniture.
Chapter Two
We followed Marcus to the executive conference room, where serious looking LuxeLife executives sat around a polished table. Already judging me.
“Please, take a seat.” Marcus directed Parker and me toward a pair of empty chairs, then leaned in close. “Oh, and Miss Li, one more thing before we get started.” His voice was barely a whisper, low enough that only I could hear. “I’m the one that recommended Victoria consider you.” His smile grew wider, his teeth somehow whiter. “So don’t fuck this up.”
Forcing a smile to my face, I noticed the stain on my skirt had dried into a pattern that looked disturbingly like the state of Florida. “Right.”
“So. Marcus,” barked a voice entering the room. “Is this the new social media miracle worker you were telling me about?”
Victoria Sterling strode to the head of the table, CEO of LuxeLife Resorts and Spas. The kind of woman who made Cruella DeVille look warm and cuddly. The type who probably kept her skin wrinkle free by drinking the blood of kittens. Everything about her was sharp angles and clean lines. Whenher Louboutins struck the floor, each click emitted a tiny sonic boom.
“You must be Samantha,” she said, extending a hand adorned with a diamond that could single-handedly fund world famine relief. At first, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to shake it or kiss it. I went with shaking.
Victoria took her seat at the head of the table. Looking through the expansive windows, it looked like we were floating in the clouds. “I’m going to be honest with you here, Samantha. Before Marcus showed me your little videos or posts or whatever you call them, I had no idea who you were. But Marcus tells me this is what people pay attention to these days, for whatever reason. And now here we are.”
An assistant scurried in to refill Victoria’s sparkling water, then disappeared just as fast. Parker and I exchanged a flash of eye contact that communicated an entire conversation.
We’re screwed.
Stay calm.
I am calm.
You don’t look calm.
I have to pee.
Was that a pelican that flew past the window?
Focus!
Victoria took a sip of her sparkling water, then settled back in her chair. “So go on then, Samantha. Wow me.”
This was it. The moment of truth.
Our presentation packets were a hot mess after the lobby explosion, so I shook my head when Parker reached into his bag to pull them out. I was going to have to wow Victoria Sterling and her executive team all on my own. Good thing I had spent the past week of sleepless nights going over the pitch again and again in my head.
I took a deep breath, then looked around the table, meetingeach pair of expectant eyes staring back at me. These weren’t just expensive suits. These were the gatekeepers. The key masters standing guard to everything I’d been working toward. Not just the financial security, though that certainly mattered. And not just the subscriber numbers, though those counted too.
No. It was more than that. Much more.
This was about proving I could do more than post pretty pictures and cute captions. This was about proving my parents, my friends, and everyone else who’d been politely waiting for me to “come to my senses” that they were wrong. That their daughter hadn’t thrown away a Stanford education and generations of family sacrifice just to take selfies for a living.
Another deep breath. It was time to put up or shut up. Prove it or lose it. Do or die.
“Ms. Sterling, Mr. Wiles, executives of LuxeLife,” I began, both relieved and surprised my voice still functioned. “Most people would probably come in here with a bunch of fancy presentations. Dazzle you with the competitor analyses they spent all night stapling together. Wow you with the detailed subscriber trends they spent three hours at the UPS store printing out.”
Parker mouthed the word “sorry.”
“But I’m not going to do that.” I leaned forward, chin held high. “Because I am not your run-of-the-mill corporate presenter. Dependent upon a well-organized series of PowerPoint slides to keep herself from rambling. I don’t have a fancy MBA. Actually, I have a partial degree in art history that my parents still haven’t forgiven me for. But that’s a topic for another day.”
