After traveling to visit his buddy in the defense industry and meet with his bosses, Grant was feeling more confident about the quarterly sales meeting. He whistled as he got off the private jet back from Huntsville, the signed contract in his bag. He wasn’t sure if Martin would be okay with what he did—it wasn’t his region, and it wasn’t really his product to sell, either.
He had also been in touch with soldiers in the coalition forces he had fought with and some ex-marines who were first-generation immigrants. None of those leads had panned out yet, which was unfortunate because landing those international contracts was what he was supposed to be doing and what he had promised he could do. He was feeling nervous again about the quarterly sales meeting.
“I wish I had an excuse not to go,” Grant muttered to himself as he sat down in the waiting car.
“You’re going to do great,” Brandy said to him.
He ignored her. He was quickly beginning to tire of Brandy.
A few hours later, he was in the office’s main conference room with too many people. It was blazing hot outside, and the AC could barely keep up. He felt as if he were having a heat stroke in his suit. That was one thing he could say for the South… their AC was on point.
“Grant.”
“Excuse me?”
“Care to give your report?” Martin asked.
“Oh, right,” Grant said and sat up straighter in his seat. “I’ve got some things in motion, and probably next month, I’ll know more. It’s summer right now, and people are vacationing.”
“Have you made any sales progress?” Walter asked.
“I’ve got about three million from small international contracts.”
He looked over at Kate. She looked concerned.
“Which means you don’t have anything to report,” Randal interjected.
Grant glared at him.
“So much for our newest salesman,” Randal sneered.
“What I’m hearing is that you didn’t hit your goals,” Martin said, holding up a hand to quiet Randal.
“I didn’t say that—”
“You were supposed to meet a goal of twelve million this quarter,” Martin said, cutting him off. “I know you are your father’s son, but…”
Grant just looked at him, and Martin trailed off.
“If you had let me finish,” Grant said quietly after a moment.
His father looked between the men but didn’t say anything.
“The air force is building a new missile that will better target tunnels and embankments. A guy I know at Raytheon was going after the contract. I put us in on it jointly, but unfortunately, it’s not fifty million, which was my target, and it’s also not an international contract.”
“You were supposed to win twelve million,” Martin interrupted again.
Grant looked at him coldly. “I’m sorry, but it’s not twelve million.”
The room was silent.
“It’s six hundred million.”
There were audible gasps, and Randal looked pained.
“But I think Holbrook Enterprises can handle that,” Grant finished. “It’s going to be a lot of work, though.”
“Did you say six hundred million?” his father asked.
