What is the picture framed on his desk? A photo from two years ago, where he and his brother are deliriously drunk holding two steins.
The sign above his desk? A big motivational quote, framed:Winners focus on winning. Losers focus on winners.
The state of Chris Blackburn? Stressed. A blue vein pops out of his neck. I know just who the cause of it is.
Albert Linderman.
Chris’s shoulders tense up as I hear another shouting match starting up again. I have to say, this is my favorite call to eavesdrop on.
In the last interaction he had with Albert, they were fighting about what kind of tagline gets the most clicks. It makes me wonder if they sit around at Thanksgiving dinner discussing brand positioning.
“I understand. I have seen the numbers. We still have other big names.” His voice elevates. From a distance, I see his fingers gripping the table.
“No, we are fine. I am doing just fine. No need to come in. This is just a blip. Albert—”
I’m not the only one eavesdropping. There is a whole separate group message that is entirely coded in emojis firing off every time they yell.
When Chris starts frantically rearranging the knickknacks scattered across his desk—stapler, paper clips, Funko Pop figures, pens—I know he’s on the verge of losing it.
“Charlotte!” Chris yells. The whole office turns to me. Their eyes zoned in on what I am going to do next. A single crossbones emoji comes through the chat as I pick myself up from the chair, dragging my feet to his door.
“I need you to get a status update on every department. I want this in a slide deck with numbers from every strategist on the team. This needs to be done by EOD.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Measurable progress. Highlight our biggest revenue streams. Biggest clients. I need this slide deck to represent our best qualities.”
“Who are the biggest clients?”
“Go find out, Charlotte. That’s the point of this exercise.”
“Right, of course.” I drag my feet out the door to the office, feeling my chest tighten, one hand pressing over my heart. Every step I take, the office building feels like it’s shrinking in on itself.
Consolidating numbers. Highlighting key metrics. Gathering all this intel from the sixty-five total employees and the eight strategists that call the shots. A week’s worth of work to be done in the five hours left of my shift.
I clutch my pendant as I start with Dominic. He is smacking his gum with his phone pressed against his ear. He waves me over as I walk to his cubicle, gesturing me to sit down in the empty chair next to him. He is a ray of sunshine in the office compared to Lena. If we had superlatives, she’d win the “most cutthroat” by a landslide.
Down the line, the same variation of feedback is said about BP. Lena’s meeting revealed more than I’d like to put in our presentation.
“I lost a client last week toOn the Rise Media.”
“We can’t seem to service our clients the same way we used to.”
All eight strategists take about four hours to interview. It’s so much information that I don’t have much room to be creative. But when the numbers from last quarter come in, I try to find an innovative way to display the number. A number that jumps out at you because of how bad it really is when the amount of expenses BP has is on the next slide.
“They won’t even notice the work that went into this,” I say to myself. It’s around nine p.m. and the pain in my shoulders is unbearable. My eyes are stinging. The growl in my stomach is only growing louder. No matter how much I try, there’s only so much that pretty fonts and fancy borders can do for a disaster like this.
“If you can hear me, please get me a grilled cheese,” I say to the open air, rubbing my pendant expectantly.
I have no energy to go on. With the largest yawn of my life, I say to myself, “This is good enough,” rushing to add the attachment and pressing send to get this over with. I don’t have it in me to double check the slide deck. Let’s hope this is exactly what he wants.
By the last hour of work, I could’ve missed a whole slide of the presentation and click sent.
Part of me doesn’t care because my deepest desire is to close my eyes, just for a few moments.
Aidan:5 missed calls
Chris:13 text messages
