I was down to only a handful of days left to get a meeting with Sean Ashworth and somehow convince him to switch from Harper Media to Corbin and Hilliard. The pressure was on. The stress was abundant. And the doughnut I was nibbling on for breakfast was about as stale as a ninety-year-old woman's libido. Monday was definitely living up to its reputation.
"Did we get Margaret on the phone yet?" I yelled to Michelle from my office. Her reception desk was just across the hall.
I'd been looking over the design results Shelby had provided me in response to the disc I'd given her the week prior. My poster ideas had turned out vastly more outstanding than the previous ones. I had brainstormed on what to change for a while but I really couldn't come up with a better idea. They looked great!
The commercial slideshows were a different story though. I liked the way I'd done them before, but I still doubted Sean would be very impressed. I'd spent so much time second-guessing my pitch that I wasn't even sure what the best option was at this point.
"I haven't been able to reach her." Michelle trekked into my office with a long, drawn out groan and the red coffee thermos she always carried around. She plopped down in one of the chairs across from me. "I'm so sick of calling Rutherford Laurence. I swear if I ever hear an answering machine with their company name again, I might have to break the phone," she thumbed toward the reception desk.
I rested my elbows on my desk and rubbed my temples. I'd been staring at my computer screen for hours and my vision was beginning to blur.
"I feel your pain," I sighed, squeezing my eyelids shut and blinking several times in attempts to get my sight back to normal. I was starting to think glasses weren't too far down the road.
"Have you heard anything else from Darin Forbes since Friday?" Michelle asked. She lounged back in the seat, staring up at the ceiling.
I shook my head, eyes still closed. I was envisioning how my next presentation - assuming I got to give one - to Sean would go. "No, and I don't want to either. He's got another thing coming if he thinks Mr. Corbin's going to go for that."
"Actually I heard we might consider."
My eyes flew open and my head snapped up to meet her eyes. "What?"
Michelle shrugged. "Like you said Darin said: if the price is high enough. I heard Mr. Hilliard is in deep debt to the bank he borrowed from to help build this agency. There's talk that we might get shut down. We're not bringing in enough in ad sales right now so it really wouldn't surprise me if they consider the offer."
"But where would all of us go?" I threw my hands up. "I need this job. You need this job. Renee needs this job to support her son. What do they expect us to do if we all the sudden lose our jobs? It's not like we can go knock on Vexcon or Harper Media's doors because they might get bought by Abernathy too."
I never expected to hear that my bosses might actually consider an Abernathy proposal. Why was I even bothering to try and get Rutherford Laurence on board if a few weeks after the deal was made, we go out of business? Once again, I felt like I was wasting my time. Then again, if I could get Rutherford Laurence before Abernathy could make an offer, the income from Rutherford Laurence would probably push us back to where we needed to be financially. Then Corbin and Hilliard might not have to worry about that debt problem.
"I agree." Michelle pushed her bangs back, letting her palm linger on her forehead as though she had a headache. She probably did. I would too if I had to try to track down Sean Ashworth's snot-nosed secretary all day.
Michelle and I talked awhile longer about non-business things. She told me she was excited for the upcoming weekend. She was taking a trip up to Vermont to visit her grandmother who had just gotten home from the hospital. I told her I was anxious for the weekend as well - mostly because I needed a break, and about a dozen glasses of wine and a pizza. The weekend had just happened but I felt like I'd been working for six months straight with no breaks or days off.
The rest of my afternoon was spent working on finishing touches for the commercial slideshows. I had decided to use both options, positive and negative ads, and see what Sean would think. By the time five-thirty rolled around I was sliding on my jacket, ready to head out the door and stop by the liquor store for some much needed Pinot Grigio. The weather had cooled off quite a bit and I was comfortably clad in some of my favorite fall accessories, red scarf and all. I was just about to leave the office when Michelle called my name from down the hall.
"Hey," I smiled, leaning in the doorway of Mr. Corbin's office where Michelle was placing some mail on his desk. "What do you need? I'm about to head out."
"I got that meeting scheduled," she grinned, clapping her hands excitedly. Her nagging phone calls and emails had paid off.
I happily pulled her into a hug. "Oh my god. Thank you so much! I've been so worried that I was doing all this work and they'd never agree to a meeting. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
Michelle giggled, patting my back. "I was about ready to kick Margaret's ass if she didn't pick up the damn phone. Her nasally voicemail greeting is enough to make you want to chug gasoline."
I cringed at her choice of words, walking toward the door. "That's disgusting." I couldn't help laughing though. Finally, I had an opportunity to talk to Sean. "When is it?"
"Ten o'clock tomorrow."
I stopped, turning around with a follow-up cringe. "Tomorrow?" I wasn't sure I had everything totally ready for tomorrow. "You couldn't get it like Friday or something? Anything a couple days later?"
I wanted to make sure I had the absolute best set of ideas I could possibly pitch.
Michelle shook her head. "No. Margaret was insistent on tomorrow. Apparently Sean's going out of the country for three weeks on Wednesday."
I groaned. "Wonderful."
My drive from the liquor store to my apartment brought with it more than just a bottle of wine. Five bottles of Pinot Grigio and a six pack of Corona were nestled happily beneath the seatbelt in my backseat. I was going to need some alcohol if I was going to pitch Rutherford Laurence on such short notice. Although, half, if not most of the reason I bought so much was due to seeing Alec and Blondie having an early dinner at the restaurant across the street from the liquor store. I instantly felt like Friday had meant nothing to him. Why was I stupid enough to think we might be heading back into our usual routine? Why was I stupid enough to let him get to me when I was supposed to be mad and avoiding him?
Ever since I'd left Alec's apartment Friday night, I hadn't been able to get him off my mind - not that that was anything out of the ordinary. But I couldn't decide if I wanted to forgive and forget over the Rutherford Laurence controversy, or hold a grudge and wait for him to find some way to make it up to me. I'd been leaning towards the former until I saw him with Blondie again. Maybe he'd just taken advantage of me being at his apartment. Maybe he thought he could get away with banging two women at the same time.
Maybe he could kiss my ass.
"You got the alcohol. I got the cheesecake. Let's get this party started!" Carlie came bouncing into my apartment with a giant store-bought chocolate cheesecake in her hands and a girly grin plastered across her face.
I wasn't in the mood to have a good time but I chose to push my inhibitions to the side and try to enjoy myself. Frankly, I deserved to. I'd worked my ass off on that presentation. If Sean still hated it, I might just give him a piece of my mind. What did I have to lose if I did? I already knew Mr. Hilliard was going to let me go if I didn't get the deal.
Carlie and I spent half the night drinking and indulging in way too much cheesecake. We'd also raided my ice cream stash, forgetting to close the freezer, and thawing out half of my frozen food. We were drunk enough to think it was absurdly hilarious.
At some point during our drinking and dancing around in our underwear, my clouded mind thought it would be a cool idea to blurt out that I'd had sex with Alec Friday afternoon. Carlie, stunned at my statement, dropped an almost-full bottle of wine on my kitchen floor. Yet another mess we found too funny for words.
When the buzz and drunken slurs finally wore off, it was almost two in the morning and Carlie was sweeping pieces of broken glass into a dustpan while I droned on and on about how pissed I was at Alec.
"You know what your problem is?" Carlie paused, sitting down on the tile. I shook my head. "You love the guy."
A frown creased my forehead and a headache began to form. "I do not." My tone sounded a lot more defensive than I meant for it to. I sounded like a child denying something right after being caught.
Carlie rolled her eyes. "Eventually one of you is going to realize you're more than fuck buddies. It's bound to happen. I'll bet money on it."
She was overly confident in her words and I was too exhausted and hungover to argue. I fell asleep on the couch in my underwear and didn't wake up until Carlie started banging a frying pan with a ladle around nine.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groaned into the couch cushion, trying to bury my face in the material and cover my ears.
She laughed at the way I was acting. "Bree, it's after nine."
"Huh?" I mumbled, still half asleep.
"It's morning, Brittany."
My head snapped up and I jumped off the couch, inadvertently losing balance and landing in the floor. The headache from two AM was still very much present and my movements were only increasing the pounding in my temples.
I looked at the digital clock on the cable box, seeing that she was right and immediately racing to the bathroom. I didn't have time to shower. It was a good thing Sean liked to conduct meetings via video chat. Nobody needed to be smelling alcohol on me. I threw on a little more body spray than necessary to cover the alcohol smell and hurried to get dressed, all the while Carlie was laughing at my frantic running around.
When I reached the office, I must've checked myself in the mirror at least eight times before deciding to go to the boardroom and set up. Renee was playing receptionist for the day, signaling Michelle was either out sick or Mr. Hilliard had her working on something else. She was occasionally our unofficial file clerk.
I found her in the boardroom, already halfway through setting up for me. I'd left the poster boards Shelby had brought me in my office and Michelle had gone ahead and set them up for me. She was in the midst of angling the projector when I walked in.
"Oh, hey," I greeted her sleepily, rubbing my eyes and hoping no eyeliner smeared.
"You're a little late, Bree." She looked concerned. "Rough night?"
"You don't want to know."
The thought of Alec and Blondie reentered my mind and I sighed in annoyance, tossing my binder on the table.
A knock at the door made me jump. Michelle went to open the door, assuming it was Renee. It wasn't. I suddenly wished I'd opted for that two-second shower anyway.
"Ladies." Sean Ashworth and his tumbleweed toupee entered the room.