“She was gone, what? Two months when she broke up with that guy three years ago.”
“But only two weeks when she broke up with that girl she was dating last year.”
I watched her fingers tap on the counter. She wore fingerless gloves, even though the air conditioning wasn’t on and it was well in the nineties outside. Her particular syndrome made it hard for her body to regulate temperature, and often her extremities were blue and icy regardless of the weather. Other symptoms that accompanied her illness prevented her from working a full-time job, yet she wasn’t bad enough to file for disability. Without help from the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation, she wouldn’t be able to afford to live.
How many other women could be helped by the DRF if they had corporate sponsorship? Could I really try to fight for it?
“This latest disappearance wasn’t even due to a breakup,” I said, wondering if Kendra was distraught enough to keep her away for long. “She said she’s torn between two lovers and needs time for her heart to decide.”
“Yeah, that sounds like her prosey bullshit.” Her tone was spiteful. She’d apologize eventually. That was how it usually went, anyway.
I chewed on my lip, giving her a few minutes to eat her sandwich and brood in silence.
I understood why Teyana was so bitter toward Kendra, but it still made me sad. Once upon a time we’d all been friends, when we were in school and our social statuses were on a more even playing field. That was before Tey got sick. Before we realized just exactly how well-off the Montgomery family was. It wasn’t until after graduation that we discovered that our education, though exactly the same on paper, wasn’t equal in the real world. Kendra Montgomery had doors opened for her at every turn. Tey and I had to fight from the ground up, and six years later, we hadn’t gotten very high up the ladder. And it wasn’t about the color of our skin since I was the whitest of the three of us.
At first Kendra seemed to care. She’d given me a job. She’d donated money to the DRF in Tey’s name so she would be guaranteed funds. But she also stopped hanging out with Teyana all together. Seemed a friend with an ailment was too much work for her. She preferred to write a check and walk away.
I’d been stuck in the middle. I appreciated that it was Kendra who made it possible for Tey not to have to work full-time, but I hated how she’d broken Tey’s heart and destroyed her self-confidence. I couldn’t admit out loud that I still hoped they’d patch things up one day. It was another reason why I wasn’t ready to leave Conscience Connect. I was still holding out for the dream ending all around.
My phone rang on the kitchen island where Tey had left it. She was closer, so she glanced at it first. “Speak of the devil.” With a scowl, she pushed the phone toward me.
I looked at the screen for confirmation. RESTRICTED, it said. The only person who called me from restricted lines was Kendra. I let out a sigh then, knowing she’d hear it in my voice if I didn’t, and put on a bright smile and answered. “K! How’s the vacation?”
“It’s not a vacation when you feel like I do.”
Tey came around the island so she could stand close enough to listen. Her bitterness did nothing to dampen her curiosity where Kendra was concerned.
“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.” It was hard to know what else to say when Kendra wasn’t forthcoming about either her relationships or her emotions these days. It had been years since she’d told me the name of anyone she dated, let alone how she felt about them.
Luckily, my guess was right on the nose. “Miserable is exactly the right word,” she said.
At my side, Teyana huffed. “She wouldn’t know real misery if it bit her in the ass.”
“Shh,” I mouthed. God, I hated this. Hated the war between them. Hated not knowing how to push forward with my boss. Hated that I had an opportunity for our company and nothing I could do about it.
Except, I could do something about the last thing. “Hey, I’m glad you called,” I said, making my decision to bring this up on a whim. “I had an opportunity come up for the company that I wanted to pass on. I was…” I paused, deciding how to dance around the truth. “At a party last night—friend of a friend of a friend—and I happened to meet someone there who works for the outreach division of Sebastian Industrial. He said they’re looking to back a charity right now, and even gave me a contact so I could set up a meeting for you when—”
“No,” she snapped. “No meeting. I am not pitching to Sebastian Industrial.”
“Then let me do it. I know it might be uncomfortable for you since they’re family friends, but since they asked for the hookup, and if I’m the one meeting with them, it’s not like you’re pushing anything on them they don’t want.”
She made a noise that sounded like a bit-back laugh. “You’ve never pitched before.”
“Because you’ve never let me.”
“I’m certainly not letting you pitch to the Sebastians on your first go around. That would be setting you up for disaster. I care too much about you to just feed you to the wolves like that.”
“Care about you my ass,” Tey whisper-hissed.
I gave her a stern look, and while I was suddenly wishing she wasn’t there for this conversation, I also realized I wouldn’t be charging on without her there to support me. “So then I’ll put them off for six months or so. When you get back, you can show me the ropes—”
Kendra cut me off. “I said no, Tess. I said no last time you brought them up, I’m saying no now. What part of no is it that you aren’t understanding?”
Now it wasn’t just Teyana sneering. She was right—Kendra didn’t deserve my loyalty.
Part of me wanted to hang up on her right then. But acting rashly would only feel good in the moment. “Wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t at least pass on the opportunity,” I said with gritted teeth.
“You’ve done that now. Moving on. I called you for a reason. I’m getting a new bed. It’s special order and won’t be there for another three or four weeks. I gave them your number to arrange delivery. Make sure the old bed is disposed of, please.”
That was something else Kendra always did after a big breakup—replaced her bed so she wouldn’t have to deal with the “memories.”
“What a waste of good furniture,” Teyana said with disgust.
I was usually put-off by how she squandered her money as well, but right now I was focused on the other information she’d given. “Will do. So you’re still planning to be gone for another month then?”
I could practically hear her eye roll. “I don’t know, Tess. I’ll be gone as long as it takes to figure out which one I want to break up with and which one gets to have me. These decisions take time. Hold on a sec, will you?”
I exchanged a look with Tey while Kendra had a muffled conversation with someone else. Did she realize how self-important she came off? It was cringeworthy.
It was only a handful of seconds before she returned. “Gotta go, Tess. My concierge is here to take me to my mud bath.” She’d hung up before I even had a chance to say goodbye.
I frowned as I threw down my phone. It wasn’t fair. Sure, Kendra’s life had started out hard. She’d been three years old when her parents found her in an orphanage in South Korea while there for a philanthropic visit. But she didn’t remember anything from then. All her memories were of the spoiled, first-class life she currently lived.
Meanwhile, Teyana was the smartest, most genuine person I knew. Her ambition was as big as her pockets were shallow. If it weren’t for her illness, she’d have made it to where Kendra was, without any handouts. That’s how amazing she was.
But here we were. Kendra lived like a princess, Teyana faced chronic physical limitations, and I was once again being pushed back down the ladder I so badly wanted to climb. If I were at the top, I thought not for the first time, things would be different. There was so much good I could do.
And if Kendra refused to help me, I’d just have to do it without her.
I could
feel Teyana studying me. “You better be thinking what I think you’re thinking, Tess Turani.”
“I’m thinking it’s going to be a late night,” I said. Good or bad, my mind was made up. “I have a pitch presentation to prepare.”
Six
The following Friday, I rode the elevator to the twenty-seventh floor of the Sebastian Center. I was a mess of nerves. My mouth was dry, my skin sweaty. The butterflies in my stomach were so active I thought I might fly away.
Everything about this idea was wrong.
I regretted it as soon as I’d called to make the appointment Monday morning with Julie Sanchez. As promised, Green Eyes had informed her I’d be calling. She was ready for me with a meeting time already set aside, only it was for three weeks in the future. It was too far away. There was too much of a chance that Kendra would be back by then.
I knew I should have walked away then. An immediate roadblock did not bode well for the rest of the plan. But since I was already on the phone with the woman, it wasn’t like I could just back out.
“We could wait until then,” I’d said, thinking as fast as I could. “But I have an amazing opportunity for a partnership that I just know is going to be gone by then. I’d really hate for SIC to miss out.”
Julie had put me on hold for several minutes. Just when I’d thought I should hang up and change my number, she returned to the line. “Friday at ten. Mr. Sebastian can give you thirty minutes.”
So here I was, on my way to what was likely to be a total disaster.
Be confident, I told myself for the fiftieth time that morning. Teyana had told me it another hundred and fifty times before that. It was the only way I had a chance of selling this. The only way I had a chance of not coming across like a total fool.
But it was hard to be self-assured when nothing about me was me—my clothes, my shoes, and the briefcase I carried had been borrowed from Kendra’s closet. Even my laptop had been one she’d purchased for me. Only the presentation on it was completely mine, and considering the fact that I’d never fully prepared one of these pitches on my own and had definitely never delivered one, I was finding it difficult to place any faith in it.
No. I could do this. I could be this. You have to leap to land, Tess. So go ahead now and leap.
By the time the doors opened at my floor, I had done a pretty decent job of composing myself. I threw my shoulders back, held my head high, and walked through the glass doors into the public relations office.
Then I saw the receptionist and froze.
It was Eden, the woman from the roof. The woman I’d watched Blue Eyes finger-bang and dismiss like yesterday’s newspaper. She worked here?
Of course she did.
Because that was my luck, and this was a ridiculous idea, and because she’d been at a party hosted by the Sebastians, so why the hell wouldn’t I expect that she was part of their circle?
I almost turned around and left.
But she was already staring at me, a welcoming smile on her face, and I remembered suddenly that even though I’d witnessed her in a private moment, she hadn’t seen me. All I had to do was keep my cool, and this would be fine. Everything would be fine.
“How may I help you?” she asked when I finally forced myself to cross the several yards to her desk.
“Yes, I have an appointment with Scott Sebastian.” I managed to sound poised, which in turn made me feel poised. I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. I’d hoped to be early, but it seemed I’d made it just in time. “Tess Turani with Conscience Connect. Ten a.m.”
Her brows knit as she studied her screen. “Oh. There you are. You’re not meeting with Scott; you’re booked with Brett. He’s waiting for you in the meeting room. I’ll take you back there.”
“Ah. Okay. Thanks.” I waited for her to come around the desk then followed the clip-clip of her heels down the marble hallway, glad to be behind her so she couldn’t see the confusion on my face. Julie had said my appointment was with Mr. Sebastian. Had something come up? Or maybe it had been Green Eyes’ plan all along to pass me off to someone else. It was silly to expect that the man on top would have taken a meeting like this personally.
It didn’t help settle my nerves, though. In fact, it increased my apprehension. It made me realize I didn’t have any clue how this pitch would be vetted. I’d been hoping to tie this up as fast as possible, but if I wasn’t meeting with the head honcho, it was probably unlikely that this Brett guy would be able to sign off on anything today. Would he be the one who would pass the information on to Scott? Or would I have to come back and pitch again? If it was the latter, how soon could that happen because time was not on my side.
Dread tickled at my chest as Eden ushered me into a meeting room. There were so many unknowns. So many ways this could fall apart. So many—
My panic turned to surprise as I came face-to-face with Green Eyes. “Hi!”
“Hi.” The warmth in his greeting echoed mine.
I was really glad to see him. But also really baffled. Was he Scott Sebastian, the man in charge of PR, or Brett, the man Eden said I’d be meeting?
“Is something wrong?” he asked, apparently reading the puzzlement on my face.
“I just…” I took him in. He was dressed in a tan suit that made his eyes look more brown than green and stood at the opposite end of a conference table—a small one, meant to accommodate four or five people at most. If he was Scott—and he had to be because he was a Sebastian, right? How many Sebastians were there in the same department?—then maybe we were going to be joined by more people shortly, including Brett. Or maybe Scott had scheduled me with Brett and then managed to make time for me himself.
Whatever had happened, he was here, and he was waiting for me to say something coherent. “I just didn’t expect to be meeting with you,” I said. “I figured you’d pass me off to someone else.”
“Hope it’s not a disappointment. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” He stepped toward me and held out his hand. “I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. Brett Sebastian.”
“Tess Turani.” I took his hand as the pieces came together. Brett. So he wasn’t Scott. He looked more like a Brett, actually. Then, was he not in charge? More likely, the website was outdated. “Good to formally meet you. And not a disappointment at all.”
“Glad to hear it. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you again at the party Saturday. I looked for you later, after Adrienne Thorne finally left.”
“You did?”
“I did.” There was no mistaking what his intentions were with that statement. Especially since he still held my hand, much longer than he should have for a simple introduction between two people about to do business.
My stomach began to knot. He was attractive, yes. But I hadn’t come here for a booty call, and I definitely hadn’t come here to try to win his persuasion with feminine wiles. I wanted to climb the ladder on my own two feet, not on my back.
Before I had to decide how to handle his flirtation, Brett abruptly dropped my hand. “And that’s as far as I’m going to go with that. I’m a firm believer that business and pleasure are not good bedfellows, and I’m very intent on conducting business with you. Perhaps there will be a time for pleasure later on.”
“Thank you. And perhaps.” I was relieved, and though I didn’t feel the same spark now that I had when I’d been tipsy, I would consider a date with him when this was all over.
Unless, of course, this whole charade blew up in my face, which was still a very strong possibility.
Too late to worry about that now.
“Should we get started?” he asked.
“Yes. Of course.”
He waited for me to sit before he unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down across from me. His gaze settled on me intently. “You have the floor, Ms. Turani.”
And, wow. Having the full attention of a Sebastian was more stressful than I’d imagined.
It was also more exciting.
It
gave me a sudden shot of adrenaline. I’d landed an opportunity to sell to one of the most powerful men in the city. Now was my chance to prove I deserved it.
I opened my briefcase—Kendra’s briefcase—and pulled out one of the booklets I’d had printed the day before. Since it was just the two of us, I decided to forgo the laptop. My PowerPoint was solid, but I knew I would do better on the pitch without all the bells and whistles. I needed to connect with him personally.
In fact, my whole presentation seemed overboard now. Suddenly, I knew my angle. “I put together a portfolio of all of the charities I thought might be suitable for SIC.” I handed him a booklet. “Each of them are worthy and notable and would be a fine fit for a company as prestigious as yours. I’m happy to go over the pros and cons, walk you through what a partnership with each would look like. Or we can skip all that, and I can tell you why Sebastian Industrial would be making a huge mistake if they chose to team up with any charity other than the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation.”
I hadn’t stuttered or tripped over my words once. I was so nailing this.
Now all he had to do was tell me to skip all the bullshit and tell him more about the DRF, and I’d have this thing in the bag. My heart hammered in my chest as he flipped through the booklet, waiting for his response.
After a handful of eternal seconds, he looked up at me encouragingly. “I’m definitely curious about the latter. Unfortunately, there’s a whole team to convince, and they’ll probably want to hear about every single one of your charities in great detail before making a decision. I apologize in advance for how long and drawn-out they’ll make it.”
My stomach dropped. There was so much he’d said to be distressed about. I picked the first one to focus on first. “A team?”
“Just five others. They won’t see anyone until they’ve been vetted, which is what we’re supposedly doing now. Just a formality, really. And a chance for me to tell you what to expect during the process. This portfolio you’ve put together is right in line with what they’ll need to see. If you have a slide presentation, I’d recommend that as well.”