But Lexi met my eyes, fearlessly, curiously, like she was peering into my soul.
You’re being hysterical.
It was enough to throw me off my rhythm.
“And if you look at this graph, uh …” I glanced back at the presentation.
Rookie move. You should always know exactly what’s on every slide.
“This graph that … It’s our projected investment into asteroid mining to potentially supplant our rare earth material purchases, and to go after space force defense contract funding. And on the next slide …”
I hadn’t slept much last night. Again. My mind had found a new thing to obsess over besides the same old trauma. Now my brain fed my nightmares a steady supply of what-ifs of Lexi being snatched off the street by nameless, faceless ghouls.
I was losing it. Lexi was ruining not just the presentation but me.
Or maybe you were already being dragged toward the rapids before she came along and this is a correlation-versus-causation issue.
Instead of connecting visually with my audience as I made my way through the rest of the presentation, sheer force of will keeping me on track, I stared at the back of the room where Lexi was watching, a big goofy smile on her face.
When I flicked to the next slide, she shot me a double thumbs-up and mouthed, “You’re doing great!”
The motion popped a button on her top, exposing a line of freckled cleavage.
She has freckles all over.
The thought short-circuited my brain, and I stood there, grasping at the melting strands of my presentation.
Lexi quickly flipped through her notebook. She still hadn’t buttoned her top back up, and she held up a cue card.
“Yes, we believe the non-diesel generator under development would be just the thing Svensson PharmaTech needs to ensure no interruptions during delicate chemical manufacturing processes.”
After the presentation and answering questions, I took the representatives down to our Research and Development floor to see the backup generator system.
“Nice presentation,” one of the Svensson brothers said to me.
“You just liked the food,” Garrett snapped at his younger brother.
“You’re the one who had three ice coffees.”
“I need these to function.”
I felt a twinge—of regret? Envy?—in my chest as the brothers lightly squabbled.
“I hope that you’ll consider how this new generator could be beneficial to your business,” I told the CEO.
“I’m very impressed,” Mace replied. “When are they online?”
“Still have to go through safety testing, but sometime in the next six to eight months.”
“Keep us posted.”
I felt like I was floating as I headed back to my office after seeing off the Svensson PharmaTech reps.
Normally meetings with any of the Svenssons were somewhere on the spectrum between epic disaster and firing squad, but today had gone strangely … well, and it wasn’t even one of my better presentations.
The executive conference room was abuzz with activity. A number of employees were lining up to clean out the mound of pretzels Lexi had ordered.
I stood back and watched her, trying to understand her, deconstruct her.
