He waits until I'm settled before he speaks. "As you can see, we need a solution and we haven't had much luck with previous firms. The stakes have also never been this high." He pauses. "I apologize for our CEO. He can be difficult to manage."
"So, I've heard. And no apologies necessary."
Before I can continue, Mark slips back in with a nod and a hand over his heart. An apology of his own.
I return the gesture as he finds his seat.
The room has settled into a calmer frequency now, the air cleared of whatever that was. I look around the table at the faces watching me and decide that whatever Bennet Sullivan's problem is with me, it lives outside this room. In here I have a job to do and people willing to let me do it.
That's enough to work with.
“Rosalie, can we leave this in your hands to manage with Bennet?” Frank asks.
“Yes, Frank. Absolutely. We will get a strategy in place today, and I’ll have Bennet send it to you all for review.”
The board members stand in unison.
"Please get him to understand the importance of his participation in this matter." Mark's expression carries awarning as he says it, directed squarely at Rosalie. She nods in understanding as they file out.
The room goes quiet. Just me and Rosalie.
"Alright," I say, and open my portfolio. "Let's talk about what actually fixing this looks like."
The door opens.
Bennet walks back in without his suit jacket and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled to the elbow. I swallow hard because I was not prepared to be suddenly accosted by that level of sexual energy from the one person in this room who actively despises me. The ink on his forearms catches my eye and I clear my throat.
He silently takes his seat at the head of the table, and I feel his gaze land on me the way. I look up and meet it.
Then I look back at my notes, because I am a professional and I have a job to do.
"The core issue," I say, addressing the two of them, "isn't any single incident in this file. The core issue is a five year long pattern that has allowed the press to define who Bennet Sullivan is before you ever had the chance to define it yourself." I turn a page. "We're going to change that. But it requires cooperation from everyone that was in this room, including you Mr. Sullivan."
I don't look at him when I say it.
"So," I grab my pen to start taking notes. "Where would you like to start?"
BENNET
Deciding on my career over my emotions, I walk back in and take my seat, doing my best to keep my mouth trained on professional mode.
The board has left, likely headed to another ‘Sullivan fucked up’ meeting. Rosalie's eyebrows haven't straightened out since I sat back down. She has the look of a woman who is one wrong word away from dragging me into the hallway by my ear, and I respect the restraint she's showing by not doing it.
I tune back in somewhere around "—requires cooperation from everyone in this room, including you, Mr. Sullivan."
She doesn't even look up when she says my name. Just keeps writing whatever she's writing in that portfolio, like I'm a line item she's already accounted for.
"So," she sets her pen down. "Where would you like to start?"
I take a breath.
"I have a date tomorrow."
Rosalie's head comes up.
Blaire pauses mid-note.
"She lives in the building," I continue, since I've started and may as well finish. "We work out together."
