“We don’t need to be at the airport this early,” he complains, rolling both of our suitcases out to the car.
“Yes, we do. I’m in charge of making sure everyone gets to where they need to be.”
“Very serious,” he jokes, and I roll my eyes.
“I want to do a good job. Krystal needs to know that I can keep people in line and make sure things run smoothly under pressure.”
“You’re going to do great, baby,” he says, leaning over and giving me a quick peck on the lips before loading the car and driving to the airport. On the way, I make sure I know every detail of the long weekend, like I haven’t memorized it backwards and forwards.
Lincoln reaches over, his reassuring hand on my thigh, squeezing. He doesn’t joke about it again, knowing I’m a little anxious.
It’s not that I don’t think I can handle the work, I just really truly want to prove myself. I’ve never wanted a job so bad, working for Krystal would be the opportunity of a lifetime. She doesn’t care about my education; she cares about my work ethic and dependability and I plan on proving myself worthy in both aspects during this trip.
Lincoln and I park in long-term parking and head toward check-in as I gather everyone’s tickets. I’m inputting our information and scrunch my brows at the screen.
“You put us in first class?” I ask, glancing over and Lincoln.
“I was flying first class, anyway. You think I’m going to let my girlfriend sit in the back?”
“They can’t see you giving me special treatment.”
“Why? You’re not an employee. You’re working for our subcontractor. They won’t even notice. They’ll assume Krystal put you there.”
I push the button with more force than needed, not wanting to argue with him, mostly because it’s a longer flight and the idea of coach doesn’t sound great.
“Is there anything else you’ve upgraded or have planned that I don’t know about?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He grins at me as we check our bags and wait for his employees to arrive.
Lincoln must run a tight ship, because they’re all on time and I don’t have to hunt a single person down to make sure they don’t miss this trip.
Phase one complete.
There’s a weight off my chest as we go through security, grab breakfast, and wait at our gate.
I go through the schedule again.
“Seriously, Pen. I know you have it memorized.”
I nod and close out of the schedule on my phone.
“How do you want to celebrate if you win Commercial Design of the year?” I ask him.
He’s hardly even mentioned the award, like it’s not a big deal. He’s put plenty of his salespeople and marketing up for awards, but this would be the big one.
“We won’t. There are too many nominees, but they expect you to submit for tons of shit. Milking me fucking dry, if you ask me. How many tables did we purchase?” he asks.
“Two,” I reply, not knowing the cost.
“Ten grand a table.”
“Seriously?”
I start doing all the math in my head: the event, the flights, the hotel, and food. Lincoln has taken a significant chunk of money to fund this trip for his employees.
“Why spend all of this money?”
“It’s good for morale, everyone loves Vegas. Plus, the convention beforehand is informative.”
