I set aside my embarrassment. No matter how the meeting ended, it was still a win.
They liked the idea. My idea. The team at Butler will love it, too. I know they will. I can feel it in my gut.
I gather my things and leave the conference room. Once I'm back at my desk, I notice Teresa called and left a message on my cell asking me to call her back.
“What happened?” I ask soon as she picks up. I know it must be something big, because she wouldn't have left mid-meeting otherwise.
“It's Noah. The school nurse called. She thinks it's appendicitis.”
“Oh, no!”
“She assured me it's probably not that big a deal, but she still wants me to take him straight to the doctor. He'll probably be fine. It's just—”
It's just that Noah is Teresa's only child, and since her divorce three years ago, any time Noah gets sick, the burden of caring for him rests solely on Teresa's shoulders.
“You don't have to explain,” I reassure her.
“Thanks.” Teresa draws in a shaky breath and when she starts talking again, she's erased the emotion from her voice. “Tell me how it went. They loved it, right?”
“I m-made a fool of myself, but they loved it.” As business-like as she sounds, surely even she isn't this blasé about it. “What about you? Will you be okay?”
“If he has to have it removed, it'll be his first surgery. And I'll have to miss work. After we get off the phone, I'll need to talk with Audrey to see if Matt can do the Butler presentation.”
“I'll do the presentation,” I tell her.
The words are out of my mouth before I can second guess myself.
I don't even stutter once when I say it. Teresa must be too worried about Noah to question me, because I'm sure that normally she would.
After we hang up, I stop by Audrey's desk and chat with her for a few minutes, explaining Teresa's situation. As always, Audrey's pert efficiency makes me a little nervous, which means my stutter gets worse talking to her.
Audrey dresses like an extra from The Queen's Gambit. She's pretty, stylish, and effortlessly cool in a way I have never been. Like, never, ever. It’s doubly awful because we’re the same age, and I somehow look a decade older than her.
Though she's friendly enough, I always feel even more dumpy when I talk to her.
On the other hand, Matt's presence is so comforting, I have to resist the temptation to put out cookies and milk for him like he's Santa Claus. Despite that, I have to tap down my anxiety as I tell him I'm planning on doing the Butler presentation myself.
He gives me a long, piercing look, and then nods, clearly pleased.
“Good. You'll do a great job. And you should be the one to present your own work.”
“It's the team's work,” I say.
He arches an eyebrow. “Those were your drawings, weren't they?”
“Yes, but I'm the artist on the team. I always do the concept sketches.”
He chuckles. “Nice try, but I know a Meg Demeo idea when I see one.”
I can feel myself blushing because I know what he means. My ideas are always the sexy ones.
And, yeah, it makes me uncomfortable that he knows that. The world expects hip, sexy ideas to come from women who look like Teresa or Audrey, not chubby, frumpy women who look like me.
I'm twenty-eight going on seventy-three. I'm a cat and some bifocals away from being a crazy cat lady. It's one thing to let Teresa pitch my ideas to a company. It's another thing entirely to do it myself.
But if Teresa can't do it, I need to step up. I can't rely on her to pitch my ideas forever. It's my time to shine–I mean, I hate that it’s because Teresa’s kid is sick, of course, but this is a perfect opportunity for me to prove myself. To show the company what I can do on my own. And to push myself creatively.
Right before I leave, Matt says, “I'll come along as backup. Just in case you need it.”
