Overcoming Fear (Growing Pains #2) Page 24

  “Of course you can,” Marcus said as he came over, leaving Judy on her own right before Ray intersected.

  They were all a good team. Well-orchestrated. They’d need that today. Sean was very nearly nervous himself. He had a lot to lose here today, but he had a damn good team. They would not fail. Between him and Krista, their team would be guided to the goal line.

  “Krista,” John said, striding up with hands on hips. He looked around at everyone, then honed in on her again. “You’re scared. You’re new to this. I get that. But you look great. You smell great. You have more knowledge on this stuff than all of us combined. If anyone can succeed today, it’s you. Have faith in yourself, follow that big, boring brain of yours and you’ll land on your feet. I have all the faith in you.”

  “That was very to the point, John. Thank you,” Krista said, laughing.

  John looked at Ben, “I don’t quite know what it is you do, but Sean seems to think you do it well, so let’s land it!”

  Everyone blinked and looked at John, and suddenly, just like that, they were in conquer mode.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Alright, Sean, the clients are here. Showtime.” John made a circle in the air with his finger.

  Before they arrived, Krista said, “Sean, if you escort me out halfway through the meeting today, I will key your car.”

  Everyone snickered, having heard that Sean had done that with the first presentation. Except John, but he didn’t have time for a proper talking-down, because the clients were now in sight!

  Everyone tensed. This was the money. This was what they’d worked so hard for. They needed this sale.

  Mr. Hartling led the group, laughing and joking with the CEO.! A new wave of heat filled Krista’s suit, exiting the neck hole in something resembling steam. She really hoped she didn’t sweat through the suit!

  Sean stepped forward, debonair and completely in charge, he worked his way through the powerful men who filled the room, Mr. Hartling first, and then an assortment of grim-faced men with slicked hair parted on the right side, wearing expensive suits, and looking like they had Ivy League educations. He laughed and chatted, shaking hands and strolling around. He belonged here, with powerful people who controlled conglomerates.

  She belonged in a friggin’ doughnut hut selling coffee! She was way out of her league.

  “Relax!” she heard next to her.

  Marcus was airy and calm, not a worry in the world. Judy was beyond him, Ben beyond her. They were at a panel off to the side in the largest, most impressive conference room they had.

  “How can you stay so calm?” Krista hissed. “That guy probably drives a car that costs more a month than my rent!”

  “Oh honey, a guy like that doesn’t have a car payment.”

  “Was that supposed to help?”

  Marcus would not have laughed if he’d realized he had just made Krista’s hit list.

  As the clients sat down, all easy and important, Krista found that her jacket was too tight. She couldn’t get enough air. There was so much riding on her material. What if she didn’t check it thoroughly enough? What if they missed something? What if she was the person who lost the client?

  Across the room, Ray, whose eyes had been checking in with her all afternoon, zeroed in. He leaned into Sean, whispering something without so much as a twinge in facial expression. The next second had Sean’s eyes snapping to her, worry evident.

  They knew she was freaking out. She was being the anchor in high winds that would sink the ship.

  With a look of calm assurance, Sean crossed the room to Ben, who was at the end of their panel. “Have everything you need, Ben? We are about to go live.”

  “Yes, Sean. Thank you.”

  Sean’s eyes hit Judy. He got a nod. He sauntered down to Marcus, “All set, bro?”

  “Using that term is so last year, Captain. I thought you were up on the latest?”

  Sean smiled, his eyes finally hitting Krista. He took another step, his back to the now-seated clients, blocking her from their view.

  He looked down on her with soft, green eyes, “You okay, Geegee?”

  “I’m scared shitless, Sean.”

  “Honey, that smile looks like a grimace,” Marcus wasn’t helping.

  “This is the big-time and I am a half-trained circus clown!” she hissed.

  Sean smiled and the others snickered.

  “I knew you could do this the first time I saw you give a presentation, Krista,” Sean said in a low, deep voice. The clients might know he was talking, but not what he was saying. “This is in you. It doesn’t matter who is on the receiving end. You wow even the unbeliever when you only half-know what you are talking about. And as John said, you know more about this topic than probably anybody in this room. You managed to impress Mr. Hartling with only a fraction of what you know now. You are ready for this. I believe in you. I have always believed in you.”

  Krista nodded with each point he said. She willed herself to believe it.

  “If you get scared, or tongue tied, look to me and I’ll help you, okay? I won’t let you go down in flames. If you need me, all you have to do is look at me and I’ll know.”

  “But what if I just look at you because you’re listening and I want to talk to a friendly face?”

  “I’ll know, Krista. I can read you better than you can read yourself. I’ll know, and I will help, okay? You are not alone.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  He looked at her a second longer, putting all his love and support on his face for her to see. After a pause, he said again, “I’ll know.”

  It did help. She felt better. Before he left, he said, “Remember, I am nothing but an actor who lost his way.” He smiled his secret smile and turned.

  Krista filled her lungs with air, then let it out in a slow release. She could do this. Sean was right, she knew this material. She knew their product was sound.

  As Sean made his way back across the room, he stopped to make a joke to Mr. Hartling, who laughed good-naturally at the distraction. A part of Krista hated that it was so easy for Sean. Another part was thankful.

  Then it was ”go” time.

  John stepped out with a smile Krista knew was totally fake. You’d never know it unless you knew John directly, though. He used his body to sell his ideas, not needing props, boards, TVs or even a computer. He had a voice and a helluva knack for sales. All he had to do was spin his web, connect eyes, and whirl around the room with large promises fit for a king.

  Krista found herself drawn in and nodding, imagining piles of money and millions of hits on websites a day. As she looked at the men sitting around the table, expecting to see nods and dollar signs, she was surprised to notice a faint scowl or two. Apparently they weren’t buying it.

  John gave his smile again, and introduced someone they, of course, already knew, Sean McAdams.

  Like when Sean entered that stage a week or so ago, Krista couldn’t tear her eyes away. His charm and magnetism were breathtaking. His large body was perfectly composed and balanced as he moved. Muscle mass worked in harmony, sending out subtle signals that it was all working strength, not gym and protein sculpted. But even more, as he worked the room, he lit it up with his vision and ideas. He talked to each person, and everyone together, weaving his dream for the project, and outlining how he would get there.

  This time, there were no scowls. Not one. Mr. Hartling had interlaced his fingers and was watching Sean with acute focus, a hungry business look in his eyes. He was analyzing Sean as if he were a spreadsheet.

  “Enough from me!” Sean said with a winning smile. “Let’s hear from our creative team!”

  Marcus and Judy rose slowly, taking their time with their poster boards and various art props.

  “Marcus will run through the idea for the campaign,” Sean was saying as they set up. “He will touch on our target market, the paths we hope to travel in order to reach that demographic, and the intended results. Judy will illustrate his p
oints with print media.”

  When they were both ready, and Sean was stowed back with the other salesman, taking a folder from Ray as he settled, Marcus began with the idea they’d chosen to pitch as their final.

  For the last few weeks, the companies had been going back and forth with ideas and desires, Sean’s team pitching ideas, Tory’s company coming back with feedback. After rounds and rounds of hitting every avenue they could, Sean and John came up with the most successful campaign. It was now up to Tory to choose that approach, granting Dexico the account and a ton of money, or not, costing Dexico wasted manpower and too much staff. They were going all or nothing, which meant, Kate, Jasmine and Krista would probably need to look for jobs if they didn’t land this.

  No pressure.

  As Judy and Marcus finished, a perfect team delivering information easily and effortlessly, they opened up the floor for questions.

  “Yes, I have a few,” Mr. Hartling said, looking at his notes.

  The line of Ivy League boys shifted in their chairs. Apparently the big boss having questions was seriously bad news.

  Sean must have known this, because he immediately put on his poker face and his body went slightly rigid.

  It was more than a few. Mr. Hartling started hammering Marcus and Judy, bringing up questions they had no idea even related, let alone knew how to answer. Mr. Hartling was a numbers guy. Where Krista thought the ideas sounded great, but didn’t realize all the flaws until she started to get data for them, Mr. Hartling saw the problem spots right away. He spoke Krista’s language, not Marcus’, but he didn’t have a decoder ring named Ben.

  So now, they had wicked smart Mr. Hartling, against wicked smart Ben. And Krista stood between the two. Oh joy.

  Sean was getting ready to step in. His face said he knew everything was unraveling before his eyes, but he didn’t know that Krista had all the answers Mr. Hartling sought. He thought all was a hair’s breadth away from being lost.

  Krista almost blew out a breath in exasperation.

  In all their meetings, did he not realize that her job was to find and plug the holes Mr. Hartling was pointing out? Did no one know what Research did within the company?

  Krista glanced at Ben. He was already looking at her. He’d realized the same thing she had. At the moment, everything was lost in the translation.

  Here we go.

  “Mr. Hartling…”

  Marcus froze, his mouth open, a confused scowl on his face, just about to attempt an answer to a question there was no way he understood. Judy was trying to shrink into the wall. John was dead still, a very bad sign for him, and Sean had gone from calmly panicking to extremely protective when he saw Krista stand.

  She wasn’t worried.

  “I’m the one with your answers. You are asking art people about things concerning math. They are just about to make a run for it. They make the magic happen. I am the boring fact checker who makes sure the magic isn’t smoke and mirrors.”

  Mr. Hartling’s face cleared for a moment, recognizing her. Then a small crease reformed between his eyebrows. He doubted.

  Silly man. Does he not realize that he’s in my house now?

  Confidence surging with the desire to prove all these self-indulgent suits wrong, Krista waltzed up to the front of the room, meeting Sean’s eyes as she walked. He was wary. He worried she was trying to save the day in false bravado. He didn’t know how to save her.

  She winked at him. Mr. Hartling hadn’t brought up anything she hadn’t already caught, worked on, and verified. If what he’d thrown up this far was the best he had, it was a walk in the park. If not, she dared him to come up with something she hadn’t already looked at, because between her, Kate and Jasmine, there weren’t many people who could find a hole when the girls were rising to the challenge.

  As Krista walked up, Sean’s face cleared. A small smile played around his lips. He trusted her.

  John, on the other hand, looked like he was plotting her murder.

  “Okay,” Krista glanced at Ray, silently asking that he set up her computer, thus freeing her to combat Mr. Hartling head on. Without even furrowing his brow, he launched into action. She took a step toward the clients, her eyes on Mr. Hartling. “I had a specific natural progression in mind for the materials, but if I follow that course, your questions would be answered haphazardly throughout. Would you like me to get to your questions first, or note the answers to your questions as I come upon them?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind covering my questions first, I think we would all rest easier,” he said pleasantly.

  In other words, stop wasting his time. She read that loud and clear. She’d felt that way a million times throughout school.

  “Ready for you,” Ray said quietly as he walked to his position.

  With a smile, Krista touched on each point, remembering the order by the answer she’d thought of when he was voicing his questions. Because she’d practiced so thoroughly throughout the week, she knew the presentation forward and backward, making slide hunting no problem at all.

  When she was done, hitting the last question she could remember, she smiled. “Did I hit on everything?”

  The biggest scowl to date was resting on Mr. Hartling’s features. Krista silently dared him to try and poke more holes. He’d get a rude awakening.

  “You didn’t, no,” he started slowly, “but what you did touch on was…extremely thorough. I think it’s fine if you work through your presentation, beginning to end.”

  Krista nodded and glanced at the laptop. Ray was already there, getting it ready. Another second and she was off, talking and lecturing and half-laughing, relating the info that she knew within an inch of her life, all while mentally making fun of the stuffy yes-men hastily writing things down. They might get paid more, but factor in those Ivy League school loans, and she and they were probably coming home with the same pay. Nearly.

  When she was done, Sean was looking at her smugly. Ray was slightly surprised.

  “Are there any questions?” she asked her audience.

  More than one executive from her company were leaning back, obviously daydreaming. Now their attention snapped back into the room.

  Mr. Hartling was looking at her steadily, “Even more thorough still. I would’ve liked to see that before the marketing approaches.”

  Krista laughed, “You flatter me. Usually I’m the one people want to hear last so they can daydream about the art instead of look at my graphs.”

  Mr. Hartling smiled, “Yes well, they don’t have a world economy on their shoulders.”

  Everyone looked at him quizzically, but Krista just laughed, remembering she had said that to him at the winery dinner.

  Mr. Hartling looked to John. “Mr. Susan, please have your people run through your marketing approach once more. Now that I have the, what was it Miss Marshall? The decoder ring?”

  She was packing up her information as she said, “Oh yes, a decoder ring is essential when you are navigating the art brain.”

  “Yes. I would like to see what it is that pairs with Miss Marshall’s portion. If you would.”

  Sean stepped forward and gestured Ben up. The scowl on Judy’s face was scary.

  “Mr. Hartling,” Sean said as Ben set up his laptop with Ray’s help. “Please meet your decoder ring.”

  All eyes turned to Ben.

  In a room full of high-powered professionals, Ben didn’t look like much. He was small and slight, standing with the laptop remote loosely held in his left hand. He was a man easily ignored. Even when he spoke, if you weren’t paying him special attention, chances were you’d miss what he was saying. What’s more, he didn’t try to overcome this in any way. He didn’t try to make himself bigger, or louder, or more noticeable. He did the work, and got out of the way. That was all he really worried about.

  So when he stepped up to the spotlight, everyone was surprised when Sean didn’t step up with him to give him more dramatic flair. Especially John, who would have done it himself,
but barely remembered Ben’s name.

  “Hello, my name is Ben Simmons,” Ben began, looking at everyone kindly. “I will be describing the electronic media approach we will be using on this account.”

  Mr. Hartling nodded, his scowl more pronounced, but different somehow. The man probably had as many scowls as ties. In his profession, there was probably always something the matter.

  “And how does the electronic media approach differ from the print?” Mr. Hartling asked.

  Ben smiled in a way that said he was delighted Mr. Hartling had asked. He would then start a long-winded explanation that no one in their right mind needed to hear.

  It was Krista’s turn to panic. She needed to save Ben and their company at the same time. But how.

  As she stood, unclear what she’d say, she realized she was a step behind. Sean had already started forward, humor plain on his face.

  “Mr. Hartling,” Sean paused with a smile. “In this instance, it might be best just to see it for yourself. Ben knows that answer, and would love to speak to you about it,” Sean let the humor bud, effectively acting like it was an inside joke that Tory wasn’t privy to, “but in the interest of time, you might just trust me on it.”

  Tory nodded slowly, not at all happy about being put off.

  Ben, seeing the reaction, spoke up. “I think Sean is correct in this instance. The differences between what the eye is willing to allow between the two mediums is actually quite an interesting topic. I had no idea, myself, until I worked in this team. Jasmine, one of Krista’s close friends, and one of our team members, has done some extensive research within the statistician realm, studying how the eye moves digitally versus with print. Also with painted canvases. One might think they are all the same, and in most cases—“

  Sean silenced Ben with a hand to his shoulder. “Again, in the interest of time, it’s probably best for a demonstration first, and the theory later.”

  Tory was now privy. He nodded, his face cleared of all doubt.

  The large TV monitor lit up. There was imagery and graphics and text, all streaming and moving and coalescing in HD. It was like a playground for the eye. Krista was sick to death of the idea, the topic, and everything that went with it, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to check prices.