Speak Now

by Chautona Havig

  “Poor Daddy,” murmured Riley. Tell her about how the preacher wouldn’t stop talking and trying to make you talk.”

  “I’m getting there, you be quiet and let me tell the story.”

  “Yes, dear,” Cara murmured sleepily.

  “Well, after we got through the getting ready, the walking down the aisle, and the flower girl passing the loudest gas I’ve ever heard in my life… Well, except for that time that Riley…”

  “Daddy!”

  “Anyway, the pastor starts talking about marriage, covenants, responsibilities, generations, and a bunch of things that didn’t seem to fit, like surf boards and asparagus. I still don’t know what it all meant, but I did know that I got more and more nervous by the second, and Lily looked ready to drop with exhaustion.”

  Jonathan took a deep breath and willed his heart to cooperate. “Then he started on the vows. We’d chosen very short vows. You know, the whole, do you this and do you that and I promise to be a good husband stuff. Well, the pastor had another wedding that morning and still had their vows in his book. They were very long, very complicated, and very, um… not us. When he told Lily to promise to take her half of family leadership, she snatched the papers from his book and shredded them right there on the platform. They’re even in our wedding pictures. She wouldn’t let us pick them up.”

  Cara giggled. “Oh wouldn’t I like to meet her.”

  “She’d love you,” Jonathan began.

  “The story, Daddy!”

  “Slave driver.” Jonathan winked at the indignant look on his daughter’s face. “Where was I… oh, the vows. Then she looked at me and said, ‘Jonathan, I vow to be your wife, be faithful, and look to Scripture for answers in how to do that.’ I took her cue and repeated the same thing. I think the pastor was a little fed up with us by then because he rushed through the next words and then muttered, ‘You may embrace.’”

  “What!” Cara’s amazement was only slightly tempered by Riley’s confusion.

  “We stared at him for a minute, hugged briefly, started to turn, and then Lily grabbed my hand, pulled me to her, and gave me a huge kiss.”

  “That’s not true! You kissed her! She got all red because you kissed her for too long. Grandma said!”

  “Well, Grandma’s getting old and her memory isn’t so good.”

  Jonathan told of the toasts, the server who dumped his plate in his lap, the delicious cake, the spiked punch, and the first dance when he’d felt so connected with his wife, that Jonathan carried her out of the room, into the elevator, and escaped his own reception while everyone’s attention was otherwise occupied. “The end.”

  Riley lay sleeping beside him, but Cara sounded wide awake. “Aww… what a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing with me.”

  “I’m sorry—Riley doesn’t understand how uncomfortable it could be for you.”

  “Could be, yes. But it’s not. Remember, I like hearing about you and Lily.” As Jonathan pondered how strange it was that Cara seemed more comfortable with him sharing his wife with her than he did, Cara asked, “Does it feel good to be home?”

  “Until I remember that I won’t see you for six weeks, it feels great.”

  The sound of choked back tears filled her voice as she whispered, “Goodnight, Jonafan.”

  “Am I still the handsomest man you’ve ever seen?”

  “I am going to have to spank that girl for breaking her word. She promised not to tell,” Cara teased.

  “She didn’t. Bryson told me. He said he didn’t promise, and I think he thought he’d convince me to go out with you again if I knew.”

  “Well, I’ll have to torture him until he goes crazy with remorse.”

  “I,” Jonathan wanted to say so much. “I guess I should say goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Jonafan.”

  “Night, Cara mia.”

  He set the phone on his nightstand, clicked the light back off, wondering when he’d turned it on, and adjusted himself on the pillow. Just as he started to fall asleep, a little voice made his eyes fly open and his heart race. “Daddy, you love Miss Cara.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes.”

  “She loves you too.”

  With eyelids as heavy as his heart, Jonathan nodded. “Mmm hmm.”

  “Will Mommy be sad when I have another Mommy?”

  The question surprised him. She’d always spoken as if another mommy someday would be the thrill of a lifetime. Bryson must have spoken carelessly. “I—I don’t think so, sweetheart. I think she’ll be happy for all of us. Mommy wants us to be happy.”

  He waited for a reply. Seconds ticked into minutes but he heard nothing from his little girl. He relaxed again and allowed his mind to slow down into the dull drone of slumber. Again, Riley’s quiet voice ripped him from the clutches of sleep. “Tell Miss Cara that I’ll tickle Bryson for her. He shouldn’t have told.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Todd listened, nodding to himself over some of Jonathan’s points. “So what you’re saying is that Cara is looking for a new relationship with Delta Advertising, not just a good ad campaign for their internet division.”

  “Correct.” Jonathan squirmed, uncomfortable with the Skype call—as usual.

  “Okay, so this is supposed to showcase the internet division—”

  “But don’t discount their primary position as one of America’s oldest and most trusted insurance companies. They are looking for something that bridges past and future.”

  “Okay, and for Ms. Laas, how do I best serve her as the client?”

  “Treat her with respect, reasonable deference even, but don’t fawn. She wants to see you confident in your presentation and your skills but humble enough to accept criticism or a request for change. She’s a reasonable woman. I think you’ll work well with her.”

  “Okay,” Todd looked over his notes. “Key words for Mayflower Trust are obviously trust, perhaps power since it rhymes with Mayflower…” he scratched the back of his neck with his pencil. “Oh, integrity. A company that has been around that long—”

  “You’ve got the hang of it. One more thing.” Jonathan kicked his door shut and then noticed the open door of the conference room Todd was using. “Never mind. I’ll email you.”

  Ten minutes later, Todd opened an email from Jonathan and smiled. Todd, whatever you do; find out what Della Carletti has planned and make sure yours isn’t too close or too different. You’ll know if you’re on the right track if they mesh well but don’t blend together.

  ~*~*~*~

  “The man or woman, whichever your company prefers, is asking all of his or her friends and neighbors who they trust with their insurance needs and the answer is always, ‘Mayflower Trust’. In the office, at the store, waiting for the subway, in a taxi…the answer is always Mayflower Trust, and where possible, a screen showing your logo and/or your website. For example, in the office, they’ll turn their monitor to the questioner. The cabbie will hold up his cellphone and you’ll see the logo on it. A man with a laptop on the subway will show it, but we’ll keep people talking about it without the internet connection to reinforce the idea that they haven’t changed to an impersonal screen.”

  “I see.” Cara did see. It was a good campaign and she knew it. “Tell me, how can a couple of comments without a screen reinforce the personal care given by Mayflower Trust? Is there another way to make that clear?”

  Della nodded eagerly. “At the end, we can have an agent and customer shaking hands… or perhaps an adjuster handing over a check standing in front of a home destroyed by fire or something, and the customer can say, “I’m glad I put my trust in Mayflower Trust.”

  “Excellent.” With a deep breath, Cara stepped into troubled waters. “We’ll be in touch at the end of the week. I want to review this with my boss—as you know, this isn’t normally the responsibility of the CFO’s office, but while they’re restructuring for a specialized internet division, we are stretched to make these decisions as well.”

&n
bsp; “I would have preferred,” Della began frostily, “to make my presentation to the person who has the authority to make a decision on it. I am a very busy woman. I do not give free test drives to people who cannot buy. I don’t have time for that.”

  Cara stood and grabbed her briefcase. “I believe you do not understand the difference between showing proper respect for a supervisor’s position and authority and lack of authority. I am entrusted to make this decision. Out of respect, I review it with my boss.”

  “You have another meeting with another company, don’t you?” Anger burned beneath the surface of Della’s self-control.

  “I do not. However, I must say, I almost wish I did. To be frank, Ms. Carletti, I am accustomed to dealing with professionals—not prima donnas. It is highly unprofessional and inappropriate even for you to ask that question. I am under no obligation to you or your company, and I do not appreciate your tone, your accusations, or your presupposition that you have a right to this account.”

  She took a deep breath, walked to the conference room door, opened it, and turned back to the gape-mouthed advertising executive. “I’m willing to overlook my personal objections to you, if you are able to assure me that our future meetings will look less like a high school cheerleading tryout.”

  Outside the Lyman building, Cara took a deep breath. Oh, how relieved she was that Della Carletti had specifically said “another company.” Without that restriction, things could have gotten ugly for Todd Graham. Of course, if she chose his presentation, they’d get ugly anyway. She slid into her car seat, pulled out her phone, and punched in a text message to Jonathan. CARLETTI WOMAN IS A PIECE OF WORK. GRAHAM BETTER BLOW THIS OUT OF THE WATER.

  Twenty minutes later, just as she entered her office, Tina passed a call to her desk. “Todd Graham called. He wants to talk to you.”

  Full of dread, Cara picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and punched the line. “Todd! Very good to hear from you.”

  All trepidation dissolved as Todd announced that his presentation was ready for her at any time. “I just got a call from Jonathan Lyman. He said you might want to move up the presentation date.”

  “I do. Where can I meet you? The sooner, the better.” Relief washed over her in waves, slowly ridding her of the pent-up angst.

  “Well, considering your morning appointments,” he began discreetly, “perhaps I could come to your office?”

  Cara quickly translated. “Things aren’t pleasant there right now, I suppose?”

  “No, ma’am. They’re not.”

  “Our office goes to lunch at eleven-thirty. I’ll be here until one. If you’d like to come during that time, I’ll have lunch delivered. How do you feel about sweet and sour?”

  “Love it.”

  “Pork or chicken?”

  “Chicken, please.” Todd’s voice barely hid his amusement. “And, if you don’t mind, I adore egg rolls.”

  “Egg rolls it is. I’ll see you at noon. Can you find my office?”

  “I won’t be late.” Todd hesitated and then added, “Ms. Laas?”

  “Yes?”

  “I just really want to thank you for this opportunity. I know you’re taking a very serious risk, and while I know it isn’t just for me, I will benefit from it. Thanks.”

  “You’re right. It’s not just for you. If I didn’t dislike Ms. Carletti from the first time I talked to her, I’d never have asked Jonathan to recommend someone else, but having dealt with both of you now, I’m very glad I did. I think we’re both in for a bit of a rocky start with our respective companies, but I think if we ride out the initial storm, we’re going to be very pleased.”

  “See you at noon, Ms. Laas.”

  “Cara. Just call me Cara, and for the record, I fully intend to call you Todd. We’re going to have to be friends to get through this.”

  She hung up the phone, kicking herself all around the room. What was she thinking giving Todd the impression she’d already chosen his campaign. She had no business becoming emotionally involved in this decision. Disliking the ad agent wasn’t grounds for dismissing a good proposal. Disgusted, she pulled up her inbox and started a new email to Jonathan.

  To: Jonathan Lyman

  From: Cara Laas

  Subject: Odds

  Jonathan,

  Ok, what are the odds that Todd can pull this off? I just allowed my personal prejudice against Ms. Carletti to affect my judgment. I practically told him the account is his. I feel like an unprofessional idiot, which is exactly what I called Della less than an hour ago.

  Reassure me. Lie if necessary,

  Cara youa (that just doesn’t have the same ring to it)

  Her phone rang minutes later. Jonathan’s voice instantly soothed her frustration. “Cara?”

  “Oh, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  “Take a deep breath, woman, and listen to me.”

  “Did you really just call me ‘woman’?” Nervous giggles embarrassed her further.

  “I said be quiet. Todd is going to deliver. I have every confidence in him. However, even if you don’t like his proposal, he’s a professional. He’ll understand if you choose Della over him. He knows you’re taking a risk just giving him the chance, and he appreciates it.”

  “But I—”

  Jonathan continued as though she hadn’t interrupted him. “Everything you just told him was filtered through that lens. You’re fine, Cara.”

  He listened as she rambled about deadlines, where she could see the campaign going, and as she wailed over dealing with Della Carletti for years. “Stop. Take a deep breath. For one thing, once your departments are restructured, you won’t have this job anymore. Even if you decide to go with Della, you’ll only deal with her until someone is assigned or hired to deal with her permanently. It’s not a big deal. Also, don’t lock yourself into any kind of long-term campaign. Yes, you could have half a dozen different versions of the same thing running simultaneously, but, Cara, it’s a good ad. It’s not a great one. Don’t lock yourself into an investment like that. You can always add more—”

  Before Jonathan could say any more, she saw Todd enter the financial offices. “Gotta go. He’s here. Pray, Jonathan.”

  “I’m crushed.”

  “Why?” Cara beckoned Todd Graham into her office.

  “I’ve been demoted from pet name to formal name.”

  “Do you really want me to call you Jonaf—”

  Jonathan interrupted her quickly. “I’ll get you for that.”

  Cara dropped the phone into its cradle and hurried to introduce herself. “I’m very glad to meet you.”

  Todd grinned at her as he shook her hand. “I’m glad to meet you too.” He glanced around the offices. “I wasn’t sure I had the right place. The sign on the door said financial offices and I passed the CFO’s office…”

  “We’re temporarily in charge of the internet division during restructuring. It’s unusual, kind of weird, if you want the truth, but I’m seeing another part of how the company operates, so it’s good for me.”

  “Shall I begin or—”

  “Well, our order is late, so you might as well start now and we’ll break for lunch when it arrives.”

  Todd presented a much less direct proposal than Della. He first showed demographics of current internet insurance shoppers, untapped markets, and of those who didn’t trust the internet for shopping. He demonstrated the competition’s commercials, contrasted it with their current pathetic commercials, and then showed where he thought the gaps were. It was informative, interesting, and for someone not in the advertising section of her company, vital information.

  “I’ll be frank with you, Cara. I got a look at Della’s proposal, and I’ll admit; it’s good. However, I don’t think it offers what I think you need to tap these markets,” Todd pointed at the over-fifty customers and those concerned about Internet safety, “Your ad needs to include the reminder of your company’s history of
integrity and safety. Yes, Della’s mentions trust, repeatedly, but trust in what? I think the idea of trust in the company is good, but I think you need to remind them that they need to trust this particular division, and why is more important.”

  “So what do you recommend?” Though an unnecessary question, Cara felt a bit like a spectator rather than a purchaser.

  “I picture a customer, market research statistics recommends that it be a man, at the computer adding his newly licensed daughter to their existing auto insurance account. As he’s going through the motions, a voice-over says, ‘In a world of identity theft, insurance fraud, and late pizza, it’s nice to know who you can trust. Mayflower Trust—the integrity of yesterday combined with the power (he makes the final clicks to his account), and convenience of today. Plug into the power of Mayflower Trust.’”

  The storyboard layout impressed her. Even the wording sounded perfect. Cara would change nothing, and if she had her way, Todd would have the account by noon the next day. “Can I call my boss?”

  “Certainly.”

  She picked up the phone. “Todd, would you mind running down to the lobby desk? Our food has arrived.”

  While he was gone, Cara took a deep breath, stepped into Derek’s office, and slid her finger along the contacts list in her cellphone for Derek’s number. He picked up immediately. “I want to sign a contract for the advertising.”

  “Well, Carletti is supposed to be the best. If you like it—”

  “It’s not with Carletti.”

  “I thought we made it clear that we wanted to work with Delta if at all possible. I thought you liked her proposal.”

  “I did, but I asked to see another proposal from someone else in their office and it’s better.”

  “Someone else in the Delta office! Are you insane? Do you know what kind of problems this could start? Delta could—”

  Cara interrupted him. “Jonathan Lyman recommended him when I told him how much I disliked dealing with Ms. Carletti.”

  “You didn’t like her?”