“We’re not partners,” I correct him. “I have another meeting. You’re excused.” I gesture toward the door on the opposite side of where I lead people into my office. I prefer this man disoriented and feeling as if he has no power. Ric clearly dislikes the feeling, but he stands and gathers the meager paperwork he’d tried to present to me into the crinkled manila folder. He expects me to sign a blank check, and I won’t do it, not until I can see what the program can actually do. The asshole didn’t even bother to bring his laptop with him.
“I’ll expect a call from you. I’ll be in town for a few weeks,” Ric says, almost like a threat.
“When you can present the program and show how it works, we’ll talk,” I nod.
He strides to the door and disappears out it just as Karla knocks on the main door.
“Send her in,” I say, leaning back against my desk and crossing my arms. It’s my preferred way to receive new business partners. Karla calls it my intimidation pose. I always jokingly say it’s just me being comfortable.
The door opens and I get my first look at the new marketing exec of Goliath. Well. . . shit. I expected someone older, not the powerhouse that walks inside wearing a red suit, her chin up high. She’s a brunette, her hair pulled back in an artful messy bun. The color of her lips matches her suit, and she smiles despite the nerves I see flashing in her eyes as she steps inside. She immediately strides forward with confidence and holds out her hand for a firm handshake, firmer than that asshole Ric had given me.
“Mr. Fox. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Ava Hutcherson.”
“Ava,” I repeat, squeezing her hand gently and releasing it despite the urge to hold on. “The pleasure is all mine.”
The corners of her eyes tighten, and I can’t help but smile at her. Oh, she may be younger than I expected, probably in her early thirties, but I shouldn’t take that as a sign of naïvety. This woman knows what she’s doing. And she knows it well.
“Where would you like me to set up my laptop?” she asks, glancing around the masculine office.
Finally. Someone who comes prepared for a meeting.
I gesture to the desk and actually look forward to hearing what she has to say as I take my seat.
Eight
Ava
Dagen Fox is a beautiful man, but I already knew that. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the city. Every socialite foams at the mouth at the mention of his name. So, of course, I expected a beautiful man. What I didn’t expect was his smooth command of a room, how his presence takes up the space of the room and owns it. I’m in his domain, and every part of this office demands I know that. While that makes me nervous to some extent, it doesn’t scare me. This is my element. I know how to pitch a plan, and I’ve come prepared.
“So, you see, if we approach it from this angle, we can guarantee a sixty percent success rate,” I explain as I scroll through the information on my laptop. He has the file with copies of my information in front of him that he flips through.
“Sixty percent?” he repeats. “That’s high.”
“We’re confident in our numbers and in our marketing plan. We’ve run through every scenario and Goliath is prepared to stand behind this promise,” I nod. “Every point of contact has been created to increase visibility. You have an excellent product. This new security system will be a game changer in the security circuit, so we’re leading with that. We change the game to match.”
I’ve done a lot of meetings with CEOs, some of them just as powerful as Dagen Fox. Many of them barely listen to my words, focusing on other things while they’re supposed to be meeting with me. Not Fox. He hangs on my every word. He makes eye contact every time I look over at him. He asks questions when appropriate. It’s by far one of the best presentations I’ve ever had the pleasure of giving, and it’s because of his engagement.
I detail our plan for his new security system, and when I finish the marketing side, I launch into potential weaknesses with the system itself that may need addressed. He blinks at my words as I mention the tech side of things, including the coding. I don’t have a degree in it, but at some point, I’d studied code and learned enough to try and impress Ric. He’d never been impressed.
“I’d like to ask for the information about your plans to prevent security breaches as well. Code like this can be intense, and with the use of AI, clients will want to know you’ve thought of everything. Besides that, I think we have plenty of information to begin a marketing campaign you can be proud of. We’re projecting a one hundred and seventy-three percent increase in profits if we approach it from this direction. People want safety. You sell it to them. We just make you look good while doing it.”
He studies me, those bright green eyes taking in my face before glancing back at the information in the folder in front of him. After a few moments, he meets my eyes.
“You’re exceptionally good at your job, Ms. Hutcherson. I’ll give you that,” he says. “You seem to have found every vulnerability in a quarter of the time it usually takes marketing teams.”
I beam. “My team is great.”
“I’m sure they are,” he nods. “But I think it has a lot more to do with you personally. I’ve worked with Goliath before, prior to your employment, and while I liked the previous woman well enough, I find your approach much more refreshing. And, you clearly know the tech side of things.”
I blush at the clear compliment. “I appreciate your. . . appreciation,” I answer lamely and immediately want to slap my forehead. Compliments are one of my weaknesses, something I don’t know how to handle anymore, not after Ric. Every compliment had been backhanded from him, often coming right before some sort of pain, so by the time I’d left, I’d been conditioned that compliments bite. While I know the issue thanks to my online therapist, healing is a strange thing. Knowing where the problem originated doesn’t magically make the problem go away.
His eyes crinkle at my response. “Being humble is an honorable trait, Ms. Hutcherson.”
“You don’t have to call me, Ms. Hutcherson,” I say, changing the subject. “We’ll be working extensively together. Ava is just fine unless you prefer to remain formal.”
“You’re right,” he nods appreciatively. “As long as you call me Dagen.”
I nod and open my briefcase, preparing to put my laptop back inside by picking it up. My eyes catch on the other folder with Dagen Fox’s name that had been sitting under my laptop. I must have accidently pulled it out with the computer without realizing it. I hesitate, forgetting for a moment that it had even been there. I shouldn’t. This meeting has gone well. Pulling that folder out now will ruin everything. I’ll just have to come up with a different plan. There’s gotta be a better plan than this.
