Chapter 1
Damian
“Keepyourheadinthe game, son. You’ve got a good thing going over there, but it can all go up in flames with one bad move,” my father says through the phone. It’s a talk I’ve heard a thousand times before.Stay focused. Don’t let people get too close. Don’t fall in love with a money-grabbing wench who will betray you with your business partner, conceal your assets, and still demand more in the worlds messiest divorce.
Okay, that last one is more implied than spoken. But the message is the same every time, not that he has to continue to reiterate it. Through the thirty-one years of my life, I have never given him any indication that the whole relationship / marriage (and subsequent divorce) thing was ever on my radar. My media and advertising business is my life. CreativEdge has grown from one solo employee in an apartment to the thriving metropolitan company with nearly one hundred employees and rising that it is today.
“Stay focused, Damian. I’m proud of you,” my father finishes.
“Thanks, Dad. Hey, I have to go. I have a call with Cardinal West.”
“The outdoors company? Are you prepared for the call? You don’t want to look unprofessional. It’ll kill the deal right on the spot.”
“Yes, I’m prepared,” I say, not holding back the snap in my voice. I’ve been doing this for years. This isn’t my first rodeo. Cardinal West Outdoors is a rapidly growing outdoor equipment and gear company based right here in Boston, Massachusetts. They generally advertise by word of mouth and a few television slots, but they recently put out a bid to solicit a new firm to handle their account and branding. I want to be that firm… and I really don’t want Walter Burke to win it. “I’ll talk to you later, Dad.”
“An important man is a busy man,” he says.
I disconnect the call without waiting for his goodbye and gather my paperwork. Technically, my client call is in twenty minutes, but I need to spend that time reviewing the Cardinal West Outdoors portfolio that my research team put together.
Leon Vitale is the owner of the largest private adventure and outdoor supply company in the greater Boston area. I’ve been trying to get on their calendar for weeks, and I finally have a call scheduled to pitch CreativEdge as their advertising solution to staying ahead of the curve and their competition.
The clock hits 2:00 p.m., and I join the call with my facts loaded and my pitch perfected.
I push my heels into the rug beneath my desk, propelling my chair backward.
He isn’t sure if we’re the right fit?
I stalk to the office door, pulling it open with more force than necessary.
Of course he isn’t sure. I would be hesitant to put my trust in a firm that doesn’t have the most basic information about my company right, too.
I stroll into the research and contracts department. My gait and demeanor are relaxed, but my face must be screaming my thunderous rage to the room. Everyone immediately stops chatting as their gazes swing from me to their supervisor, Daniel.
“Why is no one working?” I demand.
The clacking sounds of various keyboards all start up at once.
I drop the manila folder in my hand onto Daniel’s keyboard. He looks at it, then back up to me, dumbstruck. The incompetence is off the charts.
“Who did the research on Cardinal West Outdoors?” I demand.
Everyone stops typing again. I eye each one of them from the corner of my eye, without moving my head.
The clacking sounds start up again.
No one volunteers that information or comes forward as the researcher on this project.
“My office, now,” I tell Daniel, taking the manilla folder with me as I turn on my heels and head for the door. “And bring with you whoever did that research.”
They wait until they think I’m gone before the murmuring begins. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I don’t care either. They can bitch and moan all they want. They’re not the ones with millions of dollars in contracts on the line—contracts that keep this business afloat and them in a job. Contracts that don’t come to fruition when CreativEdge comes out looking like fools.
In my office, I take a seat in the leather chair behind my desk. Daniel comes in behind me, closing the door.
“Just you?” I ask, my brow raised skeptically.
Daniel takes one of the seats in front of me. “Yes, sir.”
“Are you sure about that?” We both know what’s going to happen here. Ultimately, as the supervisor, he is responsible for his team. And I doubt that he was the one doing the research on this client. He could easily save himself here, giving up whoever it was that butchered Cardinal West Outdoors’s portfolio, but he isn’t. I respect that about him, almost enough to give me pause. Almost. But someone’s head is going to roll for this, and if he wants to fall on that sword, that’s on him.
