Race to the Top

Chapter 9

-Ginger-

It's the day of the presentation and I hate to admit just how nervous I am. I woke up at 5am and went for a jog, even though I hate jogging, just to get some of my jitters out.

After showering, I put on my best fuck-yeah-I'm-amazing outfit: a black pencil skirt, white blouse, and a cobalt blue blazer. It was the outfit I wore when I got the job at Atwood and I wear it every time I need a confidence boost.

Jackson texted me to meet him at the coffee shop across the street from the Warrick Building before going into the office.

"Good morning sunshine," he says. I give him a spectacular side eye for being so cheery. He chuckles.

"I don't know about you, but I didn't sleep great," I say.

"Me neither, but I think we're going to do well," Jackson says with an easy smile. I appreciate his reassurance.

As we walk into the building, I approach Lenny, show him a photo of Callum Adair and explain that he's a potential client coming in today.

"They should be arriving at 11:30 so someone should be down here to greet them but if they aren't, just send them to 25 okay?" I ask.

"You got it Miss Ginger, good luck today," Lenny says, nodding his head to me and smiling.

"Thanks Lenny! I'll let you know how it goes later," I say waving as I head for the elevator.

In the elevator, Jackson smiles at me and shakes his head.

"What?"

"I just think it's...nice that you are friends with so many," he says before looking up at the numbers on the elevator.

I feel a slight blush then look away.

The next few hours both creep and fly by. I look at the clock roughly 482 times. By 11:10am, I'm touching up my hair and make-up and standing up to smooth my outfit out.

"Ginger, Jackson, Callum Adair is on his way up."

Melissa's voice comes through the intercom system on my phone. I snap my head to look at Jackson in horror.

"Hey, it's okay, the conference room is good to go, we're ready."

Jackson walks up to me and puts both his hands on my arms to steady me. I take in a big breath and blow it out. He narrows his eyes at me and squeezes my arms.

"We got this, let's go get em," Jackson says. I nod.

Just as we round the corner to the elevator, we see Gerald shaking hands with Callum Adair. He's just as gorgeous in person as he is on Instagram.
Callum Adair is tall, with broad shoulders and an easy smile. He's wearing black jeans and a flannel shirt. His reddish brown hair pokes out from under his knit hat. Everything about him seems large and filling. I wonder if he feels small in buildings in New York City.

His CFO Mr. Buchanan is shorter, wearing a plain suit and carries a black leather briefcase.

"You'll be in good hands here Mr. Adair, Mr. Buchanan, and here's our team now!"

Gerald gestures to Jackson and I just as we approach them. Callum's eyes flash to mine and his smile instantly widens. I stride up to him confidently and stick my hand out.

"Mr. Adair, it's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Ginger Campbell and this is Jackson Theron," I say giving him a firm handshake. His hand is large, it envelopes mine easily, and it's warm despite the outside chill.