Behind Office Doors

Chapter Four: Imogen

Ian nodded. "Editorial has been working closely with us. We've scheduled meetings each week to discuss next steps."

I sensed an opportunity, and the words tumbled from my mouth before I gave myself the chance to second-guess.

"If I may," I said, trying not to become psyched out when all pairs of eyes landed on me. "Perhaps I'm misunderstanding or jumping to conclusions, but is the email going out to the same audience each week?"

If Ian was surprised at my contribution, he didn't show it. He also didn't speak to me in a patronising way, which I'm sure would have been a temptation given that the new girl was attempting to question methods employed by long-time staff members.

"We alternate each week," he replied. "Split our database in half, essentially, so we're not spamming."

"I wonder if it would be beneficial to only target an audience relevant to the content being promoted each week?"

Ian interlinked his fingers on the table in front of him, cocking an eyebrow in interest and gesturing for me to continue.

"So, I imagine you have a record of all the purchases your customers have made. Let's say that one email promotion is about re-designing your living room. Is there a way you can split your database so that you're only sending that email to the customers who've recently purchased living room furniture, or recently sought your advice on decorating their living room?"

Silence enveloped the table. Jason's eyes bore into my skull, but I refused to look at him. He'd only make me nervous. But when Ian pursed his lips together, I worried I'd said something stupid.

"I'm just wondering if that would prevent people unsubscribing," I said, wanting to justify my suggestion before it was shot down. "If you're only sending them relevant content, they'd be more likely to read the email or click through. For example, I'm part of a reading community. I ignore the emails about genres I'm not keen on, but I almost always click through when I see something that does match my interests."

"I think your suggestion makes perfect sense," Maya said. "We'd be foolish not to try it. Right, Ian?"

"You're absolutely right," Ian replied, leaning back in his chair and shooting an easy smile in my direction. "It'll take some manual work on the database, but the potential benefits would far outweigh the labour."

"Feel free to come again, Imogen," another man chimed in, prompting a few laughs around the table.

"Sometimes a fresh perspective is all it takes," Jason said. "Thank you for your contribution, Imogen. And, joking aside, you are welcome to pass on any further suggestions that you feel would be useful."

Despite the polite and supportive message behind his words, the tone of delivery felt detached and formal. It was like a different man sat before me, not the same one who'd laughed with me, teased me, tortured me with pleasure and then confessed his deep feelings towards me.

Jason Walters was gone. Maybe he'd never truly existed. My fantasy of a future built on the foundations of an amazing summer also needed to disappear. It was over.

"Hey, Imogen," Ian said at the end of the meeting when everyone stood to leave. "You got a moment?"

I hung back, not allowing my eyes to drift over Jason, who slowly packed away his laptop and notebook.

"That took some real courage," Ian said to me. "Maya brought you here for exposure and you sure as hell exposed yourself."

The words hung in the air between the three of us, yet the double meaning would only be noticed by two.