“Sure.” I lower my voice. They all lean in. “Did you see that article inFAmagazine about layering client experiences with continuing education?”
The guys glance furtively at each other before a woman with a pixie haircut and dark-rimmed glasses speaks up. “Didn’t they rave about the trends toward extreme sports?”
“Yes. Exactly. Instead of boring meetings, mixing it up. You all would have to tell me if the ideas in the article were decent or maybe you have other thoughts?”
Like I pulled my finger from a fissure in the dam, their creativity starts rolling.
I never look back up, but I can feel the weight of Dave’s irritation, and shame on me, it gives me strength.
23
I CHECK MY PHONE.It’s ten minutes after six. If I leave now, I can make the 7:10 train and be home in time for kitchen cleanup. Maybe they’ve even set aside a plate from family dinner. Well, it can’t be calledfamily dinnerwithout Reid. I miss the little guy. He’s got to be having the time of his life at robotics camp. I wish they’d post pictures online like they do at summer camp. On the train home, I want to go through what Clint took at drop-off.
A queasiness suddenly gnaws at my stomach. Perhaps I’ve looked at enough images for a while.
Leaving now, I’ll be a tad earlier than expected. I’ll take the win. As I’m shoving my laptop and notebook into my bag, my phone buzzes. A text from Hardwin’s admin requests I jump on a conference call with him and Terrence. Phil wants them to share his thoughts and their edits on my board pitch.
I sit heavily in my chair and pull my computer back out. I never should have celebrated early. This happens way too often. But in thiscase, perhaps I can get their notes, work on revisions on the train, and at least be home before Erika plugs her phone in for the night.
I let out a slow sigh, remembering that I have her phone. Which she’s probably still snarling about. I need to get home and talk to her before she goes to bed.
I open up the slides on my computer. Hardwin and I never did catch up at the town hall. I’m still not sure if the message Dave conveyed was what Hardwin, or even Phil for that matter, had in mind. Perhaps I’ll find out.
My desk phone rings, and I put it on speaker.
“Nice town hall, Meredith. You set a new standard on how to show our appreciation. I told some of the guys to take note.” Terrence’s voice is strong over obvious road noise.
“Thank you. I heard Phil did a great job speaking to the troops. His words meant a lot to everyone.” Especially since I was stripped of my opportunity.
“Hats off to Phil, but I think your spicy dragon rolls were the real star of the party.” Terrence laughs.
“No doubt,” Hardwin cuts in. “In case we have service issues, we’re in the car. Peter’s driving us to the west side of Philly. Early morning with Vanguard’s team.” He mumbles something about a sun visor.
“Right. Hope it goes well.” My finger taps rhythmically on the desktop. “I also wanted to touch base with you, Hardwin. I spoke to Dave but just wanted to check in with you as well.”
“He said he told you about the data.” Hardwin speaks deliberately.
“Yes. What a relief. He—”
“That’s what he confirmed. Moving forward, we just had a few notes on your pitch.” Hardwin dives in, and for the next forty-five minutes, he and Terrence talk through my three short pages and handful of slides. Initially, I make furious notes on their comments but soon realize it’s mostly stream of consciousness. Phil might haveshared some initial thoughts with them, but this is obviously the first time either of them has more than skimmed the pitch. They want to hear from me more than they have insights on what I put together.
After they’d agree on a point, I’d think we had an edit, but after circling the new idea, we’d land right back on what was in the document. Eighteen months ago, I’d have volunteered to ride on the roof of their black Escalade for the opportunity to witness these two debate and discuss my ideas. But now, I just want them to be done. I realize after about twenty minutes of banter that I am the entertainment for their drive. I won’t be let go until they finish their fun.
After another half hour, in which I miss the train that would’ve gotten me home before Erika usually goes to bed, Hardwin finally starts to wrap.
“Meredith, do you think you have what you need to put the finishing touches on this?”
“Yes.” I glance over my scribbled pages with many more cross-outs than legible directives and then wiggle my mouse to peer at my document. “I’ll add another sentence of context to our penetration numbers... and... I’ll...” I search for something else of note to change.
“And the worddistinguishin that paragraph about competitors, you’ll maybe come up with something more, I don’t know, something with gravitas,” Terrence says.
“Right, yes, I’ll—”
“You know, reading it again, I think it’s fine as is. I hope we’ve been helpful, Meredith?” Hardwin asks.
“Very.” I drop the marked-up document into the recycling bin under my desk. “I appreciate this window into your thoughts.”
“Well, we better draw our curtains.” Terrence laughs. “Wouldn’t want you to get too good a look at the levers and pulleys.”
