The meeting was midafternoon. The clients were scheduled to arrive in four hours and forty-five minutes. It was also a long meeting. Because Anthym was out of the office, that meant McKenna was planning the meeting and I would run point.
“Leave everything to me,” I said, setting out Anthym’s meeting list next to mine, which was much longer, more detailed, was color coded, and had stickers by the mega-important points.
“Wow! And here I was worrying I was going to screw up the meeting and Anthym was going to turn me into a llama,” McKenna joked.
“A snack order has been placed at the bakery down the street. They deliver. FYI, Garrett Svensson is one of the attendees. I stalked his girlfriend’s Instagram, and he only drinks iced coffee, no sugar, tablespoon of milk, with a plastic straw. I have an order placed for that plus extra iced coffees in case anyone else wants one, even though it is dreary and cold outside and not iced coffee weather at all. I’ve also read through Mr. Richmond’spresentation. There was a typo—no judgment, I know you reviewed it—but I fixed it.”
“Thank god.” McKenna hunched over. “Anthym would have me fired if I’d let that slip.”
“I’m going to go test the presentation system and make sure it’s ready to go with a press of a button.” I grabbed my Swiffer and a bottle of cleaner and a cloth then headed to the executive conference room, which was dominated by a long, light-colored, reclaimed-wood custom table.
“The cleaners were in there last night,” McKenna told me.
“I see dust. Mace Svensson is coming, and he’s a germophobe. He’s too polite to say anything, but Mr. Richmond needs these people on his good side. Svensson PharmaTech is a big client.”
Getting down on my hands and knees, I spritzed the chairs while McKenna ran the Swiffer on the walls. I set out a table runner on the built-in buffet area in the back of the room, just in time as the caterers carted in the snacks and drinks.
I wiped off the condensation on the iced coffees and set them in a double bowl of ice to stay cool.
“What is this?”
McKenna flinched when Grayson Richmond stalked into the conference room, ten minutes before the Svensson PharmaTech representatives were due to arrive.
“Everyone’s more friendly when their blood sugar’s up,” I trilled.
“This is a full-on buffet.”
“It’s soft pretzels and a variety of dips,” I argued with him. “In Europe we would have beer and wine, but I restrained myself.”
My boss scowled. “Does Anthym know about this? She never served food at meetings.”
“Probably why everyone looks like they want to jump off the mezzanine after coming out of one of those conferences,” I retorted.
“Just because you can’t act like a professional,” Mr. Richmond shot at me, “doesn’t mean that everyone else has a difficult time.”
“You’re hosting people,” I argued, feeling annoyed. “You have to provide food and caffeine. It’s three in the afternoon. People are going to be dead. Considering you’re an antisocial recluse who doesn’t have any home training or know how to act in public, maybe you can pretend to be the rational businessman and defer to the person who does actually know how to talk to strangers, who does know how to make people feel comfortable and welcome, who does know how to be a good hostess, and who does actually interact with people on a regular basis beyond just barking orders.”
My voice only sounded a little squeaky at the end of the rant.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Mr. Richmond took a step toward me.
McKenna’s mouth was hanging open, head swiveling back and forth between the two of us.
Our boss loomed over me, teeth bared. “Get rid of that food, and especially get rid of all those iced coffees.”
“No.” I crossed my arms. “I’m right. This is going to make the meeting go more smoothly. It’s a nice personal touch. You should count your blessings that you have wonderful assistants here to support you and make sure you look good for your big meeting. Take a moment to find joy in the small things, Mr. Richmond. It will help your blood pressure.” I patted him on the arm, and he stared down at my hand.
“I think,” McKenna said slowly, “that the clients are starting to arrive.”
Mr. Richmond turned on his heel, tugging sharply at the lapels of his suit jacket as he headed to the elevator to greet the first wave of clients.
McKenna fanned herself.
“I’m so nervous, and I don’t even have to talk to anyone. I just sit in the corner and take notes. I don’t know why you’re so calm.”
“I love meeting new people!”
Whenever Mr. Richmond hosted a meeting filled with rich and powerful people, Anthym would always freak out, insisting that everything be perfect, though that didn’t include snacks. She insisted we act like the King of England was visiting the office.
