by K. F. Breene
“Who is giving the presentation?” Ben asked stiffly, interrupting the thumping in Krista’s chest. He and Marcus were wondering if Krista would make it through the day without throwing a tirade or breaking down in tears.
For herself, she put her money on both. Tirade first. Tears later.
“Guess,” Marcus said with a smile in his voice. “There are five people.”
“Okay, will we see John?”
“Mr. Senior VP? Yes, indeedie.”
“Judy in marketing.”
“Right again.”
“Janice in art?”
“Ha! No, they went with Phyllis of all people! Phyllis replacing me? No way! Krista, you remember Phyllis—she is the one that made you figure out the book machine on your own!”
“Ben helped with that, actually. I cheated,” Krista said going over the material they were given. Not that she needed to—it was all memorized. She stupidly thought it would take her mind off of Sean. She had so wanted to look good in the meeting. Instead, to properly do her job, she would look like the Big Bitch she was rumored to be.
Sean might have loved her once, but after the meeting, if he had any feelings left, they’d probably veer toward hatred.
Tears might be first, actually.
“Sneaky!” Marcus said as he pointed at Ben. “I didn’t know your tendrils were in the company before I met you.”
Ben smiled. “James Montgomery from Research?”
“No! You won’t believe this—they are using that little weasel Larry! Since he worked with Krista before, they thought he would know how to work her or something. Montgomery was livid!”
“They know I’m coming?” Krista asked in a choked voice
“Of course they do! John is thrilled. He thinks you and him see eye to eye,” Marcus said dryly as he lounged.
“One more, right?” Ben said, looking at Marcus with a furrowed brow.
“Sean,” Krista whispered.
“Oh yeah.” Ben suddenly found something else to focus on. They were silent until Tory walked in a couple minutes later.
Tory was a busy man, but made a point to walk at a measured pace. When he spoke to you he never belayed his rush, never lost his patience, and always held you in the highest respect. Well, he did everyone Krista knew. He probably lost his cool down the road somewhere.
“Okay gang, the car is out front. Krista, please walk with me.” Tory watched as his team of high powered suits filed out in front of him. They were a crew of Ivy League stars. They all had the same haircut, the same suit, even the same body type. They also had the same thoughts. But those thoughts made millions, so Tory must’ve known what he was doing. Krista, Ben, and Marcus called them Tory’s Circus.
Krista grabbed her laptop and stuffed it into her computer case. She caught up with him and matched his stride.
“Have you talked to Mr. McAdams since you left San Francisco?” Tory asked.
“Wow, Tory. Right for the jugular, huh? No, I haven’t.”
“How will he affect you today?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I have my notes on their written materials bulletined, but I’m not sure how much he’ll scramble my thoughts once I see him. It’s been a long time.”
Tory dipped his head thoughtfully. “I appreciate your honesty. It is a breath of fresh air from my ‘Yes Men.’ Well Krista, you are only human. I am going to sit you next to me today so I can keep an eye on you. Use your laptop—just ping me with whatever you need. I can always arrange for you to meet with their Research Analyst separately if you need to.”
“Sean won’t let that happen.”
“Hmm. Yes, that might be right. Well, we’ll figure something out.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t call me ‘sir,’ it makes me feel old.”
“Yes, Mister,” Krista said with a smirk.
They got into the town car together. As Krista always did, she started to prep the team with what she would expect from the numbers they gave. Then they were walking into the lobby. Her hands were sweating and her legs felt weak. Thanks to Sean’s example once upon a time, she had an array of tailored, high-powered suits for these meetings, so she knew she looked good, but she still felt vulnerable. She fell back behind the Circus.
They waited in clusters, Ben and Marcus joking next to her. Everyone fell silent when they heard what was unmistakably John’s voice: “Tory, nice to see you again! It’s been a while. Too long!”
“Hello John. Nice to see you.”
“Please, follow me,” John said. The procession started.
Krista couldn’t see over their group, so she didn’t know who was up front with John, if anyone. Her stomach was in knots as she made the familiar way through the corridors and into the elevator. They went up the elevator in shifts since they wouldn’t all fit in one. John and Tory were gone by the time she got there.
“Relax,” Marcus said in Krista’s ear. He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. He was excited and anxious to be back in his old stomping grounds.
“Be nice to them today,” Krista gave Marcus a poignant look. She got the feeling he couldn’t wait to make mincemeat of Phyllis.
“Me be nice? You’re the one with the reputation of Big Bad Bitch!” Marcus laughed as they got in the elevator. “I’ll have to stop you from blowing their whole house…down.”
One of the Circus smirked. Krista scowled at him. He went back to being straight faced.
The Circus was all a bunch of nerds in a former life. Money they might have now, but they still remembered their high school years as geeks. Krista would’ve been nice to them in high school, but she bullied them now. It was fun.
“You’ve been waiting for this moment for two years, whereas I have been dreading it,” she said to Marcus, keeping an eye on the members of the Circus. She hated when they listened in. They were as bad as a sewing circle.
“True. Okay, I won’t make Phyllis look as stupid as she’ll sound. But that’s all I can guarantee.”
Krista smiled tightly as her stomach did flips. Two more floors. One. God!
They followed the Circus to the largest conference room. As they walked in she looked around in wonder. They had completely revamped all their electronics and redecorated. Everything, including the chairs and phones, were new. The room looked sleek and modern. Everything was fresh, impressive. If she didn’t know their staff, the look of their facilities would lend a positive spin to their credibility.
It was all Sean’s doing, Krista knew it just by the look. John was the money man, Sean was the closer. He had an eye for flair.
Tory was shaking hands with Larry, and then with Phyllis. He gave a warm hello to Judy. The Circus was finding their seats. John was setting up the projector. Where was Sean? He wasn’t in the room. Maybe they thought he shouldn’t be in the presentation since she and he had history?
Krista walked over to Judy, the marketing person Krista had worked with when she’d been in the company. “Hi Judy. Really good to see you.”
She smiled. “You, too, Krista. Give ‘em hell. They deserve it!” she said quietly.
“Krista.” Tory wanted to get started. She went to him and took her seat. She set up her computer promptly, positioned her lucky mug just so—though behind her computer because she didn’t want Sean to see it—and opened her IM. She then joined the rest of her team so they could pass notes without getting caught. All that done (and done quickly since she had done it a million times in a million different cities), she got ready to wait patiently for the show to start.
John was talking to Marcus. He caught Krista’s eye and gave her a big smile and small wave. It was not the John she remembered. All sarcasm was gone. She was now the client. The enemy. He was trying to schmooze.
She smiled back, and then looked away. Suddenly she wasn’t all that impressed. This wasn’t how she saw her homecoming at all. In fact, it put a different light on her tenure there. Compared to what she was used to, this company was small potatoes; poorly set-up, smal
l staff, small minded people, and limited resources. It surprised Krista that Tory took the account the first time around. But then, he stole everyone that made it great—Krista nearly shined her finger nails on her suit with that thought.
He’d taken everyone except one. The most important one at that.
At least she moved on career-wise. She might not have been as good, or as experienced, but at least she moved up to bigger and better things. She at least beat Sean in that.
That was if it were a contest. And being that it was all she had to focus on to ease the pain, it’s what she went with.
She heard the doors closing and looked up lazily, ready for all this to be over. That was when the world flipped upside down.
It was Sean.
He was wearing a suit that was glued to his perfect body. Those big broad shoulders, that upper body vee going down into the thin hips. His tight butt atop strong, defined thighs. She licked those thighs once. She moved against that washboard stomach. She felt those large hands cup her breasts and tease her nipples.
The room got dense and her face was burning. Her breathing sped up, but she couldn’t seem to get enough air.
“Help!” she pinged Tory.
Tory glanced at her, saw the crisis, and smoothly got out of his seat to greet Sean personally. He steered Sean toward John.
“Water?!” Ben pinged.
“RELAX. BREATHE. BREATHE. BREATHE.” Marcus typed.
The Circus was looking around in confusion and anxiety—it didn’t take much to rile them up. At the moment, they clearly had no idea what was going on, but were ready to bail anyway. They would be ideal in an emergency, because like rats, they’d find the quickest way out, women and children be damned.
She followed Marcus’s advice as she nodded to Ben. She kept herself from bracing her hands on the table as she filled her lungs with air. She bent over to get a pencil out of her bag to hide her face until she was sure it wasn’t red anymore, and then she looked up.
Straight into the fathomless green eyes of Sean McAdams.
His hair was longer and lighter, and his face was tanner, but it was the same high cheek bones, the same strong jaw, and the same sensuous lips she spent hour after glorious hour kissing. His beauty more than took her breath away. Her memories didn’t do him justice. All the hours she spent sitting on her surf board daydreaming couldn’t compare to this one moment. Her memories were cookie cutter cut outs of the real thing.
She didn’t realize the pain could be this acute. In two years, it wasn’t just his beauty she’d forgotten. It was how much their separation still hurt. How much she still loved him. How that love—still so fresh, still feeling so right—hadn’t diminished in the slightest.
John started talking about their great new ideas for the latest product. He talked about their successes, how they reached their audiences, their goals as a company, and how all of that would create the perfect arena to house this campaign. It was a load of crap. All of it.
Krista didn’t care, though. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Sean, but then she didn’t have to. He greeted them as a whole, called out special greetings for Marcus, for Ben, and for Krista, but he didn’t meet her eyes again. Then he thanked Tory for taking the time to see them.
Sean led the show. If Krista’s side had the Circus, Sean’s was the side show act. Like the first presentation they did together those many years ago, Sean was the mediator. He talked to Krista’s team while Larry set up. He then helped Larry relay his information. He did the same with Phyllis. He teamed up with John for some other ideas, and talked about how hard they would work for the account. He didn’t meet Krista’s eyes, not once, throughout the whole of the presentation.
Inside, she was being torn apart. Her world was being ripped to shreds, and the memories were bleeding down her core. She wanted to crawl into a corner and cry herself hoarse.
Outside, she was a cool breeze. A little ruffled maybe, but not a big deal. She had mastered professionalism to hide her bitch persona until question time, so she was an old pro at hiding all her inner feelings from her audience.
When the presentation was done, they opened it up for questions. Krista’s team, unlike Sean’s, was a well-oiled machine. The Ivy Leaguers asked their questions, which were generally easy to answer in Krista’s opinion. The amount of people that struggled with the answers, though, made their questions essential. Krista gave them a hard time as a rule, just because they were ridiculous boys, one and all, but they did do their job well.
Unlike some companies, Sean seemed ready for, and expecting, every one.
Marcus asked his questions, which were preceded by a “ridiculous” ping message. Ben didn’t have any questions, which was unusual, and probably meant this company’s ideas weren’t good enough to get his creative juices flowing, and Krista’s turn was last.
When she had the floor, Sean slowly inched his eyes up until they met hers. His face was guarded. It was unreal how bad that hurt. Absolutely indescribable the pain that surfaced with the ripping and tearing going on in her guts from seeing that cautious look on his face, after so long, after all they had. After what they’d been to each other. After what they’d endured as a team.
Intense hurt turned to anger. Thankfully, anger turned to cold determination.
Tory was about to step in when Krista said, “I have a couple questions.”
Sean nodded slowly. Deliberately. But he didn’t say anything.
John said, “Great! Fire away.” Krista didn’t miss his nervousness.
“Mr. Smith.” Larry looked at her, sweat beaded on his forehead. She smiled at him. He smiled back. Fool. “I noticed your standard deviation chart was built using data pulled from a different product. Can you talk about that, please? I am interested to see how it relates.”
Sean immediately stepped forward to do damage control. Krista held up a hand. “Sorry, Mr. McAdams. If you don’t mind, I would like to hear from your Researcher.”
Sean looked at her levelly. Then, slowly, he smiled.
It was on like Donkey Kong.
Krista wasn’t so naïve anymore. Tory was right. He could wring the crap out of people, then fill the void with excellence. She wasn’t nearly done learning, but she had been an apt pupil so far. She could play the game. Where once she couldn’t keep up in the ring with Sean McAdams, now she was more than comfortable going tȇte-a-tȇte. What’s more, she was confident she would come out the winner if a victor needed to be chosen.
Larry got red in the face and started pawing through his notes. He sputtered out a load of irrelevant information until he sort of fizzled out and extinguished. Krista didn’t know what she’d expected, but she didn’t expect that. She very nearly laughed. Instead, she hid her mouth behind busy fingers, pretending to think.
When she was under control again, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Smith. Okay, Mr. McAdams, you’re up. Same question.”
Sean smiled again, and answered flawlessly. It didn’t meet her standards, though.
Which he expected.
They took off. It was a duel between Sean and Krista, occasionally interrupted by one of the Circus or one of Sean’s incompetent team members. To every hole she found, Sean was there with dirt and mortar to plug it up. For every fact that didn’t check out, Sean had a viable explanation and steered them away expertly. He was the yin to her yang. He was the swim-up bar to her pool party. She got hit with pangs of loss each time she recognized it.
When she had exhausted the great many holes and problems, there was a collective sigh. Krista’s team were all sitting back, watching the show, and now they straightened themselves up again, feeling a little sorry for the presenters. It had been a long time since she’d dealt with a company so ill prepared. Sean did exceptionally, considering what he had to work with. Better than exceptional, actually. He didn’t belong there. He was too good by half, and it was glaringly obvious.
Tory summed everything up, asked a couple of questions of his
own, and the meeting concluded. Krista desperately wanted Sean to come by and say something, anything, but he didn’t. He talked and shook hands with all of the decision makers and followed them out. Krista was left with Marcus and Ben again.
“Well, you earned your dollars today,” Marcus reflected.
“And a raise,” Ben said. “You were really laying into them. They don’t stand a chance of getting our business.”
“My job isn’t to chase anybody away, it’s to pop balloons,” she retorted, waiting for the elevator.
“Well, there isn’t a balloon left in San Francisco, honey,” Marcus said with a chuckle.
“I noticed you were quiet,” Krista said to Ben. “That’s a rare thing.”
He shrugged. “There was nothing I wanted to know more about. Nothing that sparked my interest. It was all a bit…weak.”
Krista figured as much. Ben and Marcus were treated like celebrities, too. Maybe they weren’t pampered as much, mostly because they weren’t as scary, and probably because they were guys and didn’t love presents as much; but accounts tried to angle their ideas to incite the creative genius that was Marcus and Ben. Especially Ben.
If Ben picked up an idea, leaned forward on the desk with clasped hands, and starting imaging ways to work with it, spin it, use it—well, Tory and his Circus got out their note pads. An excited Ben always meant great possibilities.
After Ben shaped the idea to how it would work best, he’d turn to Marcus and say a couple words to ignite Marcus’s creativity. If Marcus picked up what Ben put down, then the company made money—if Krista didn’t destroy their numerical foundation first, of course.
They were a helluva team. And Tory knew it. He didn’t fully realize what he had in the beginning—what Sean had found and put together—but as soon as he did figure it out, they remained a unit; the best unit in the entire, monstrous company. The three-pack made the company cash, as well as making themselves big bonuses. Ben might think of Krista as his lucky penny, but it was them as a unit that made the magic.
