Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“You can leave the door open, Oliver,” Mr. Williams said. “Mr. Abrams is joining us soon.”
Word?
Hot Daddy in work mode. That could be fun.
“To prevent any confusion, let’s proceed with this meeting by using the Abramses’ first names,” Mr. Williams instructed.
“Yes, sir.” I nodded. Probably for the best.
True enough, Wyatt entered with Suravi shortly after, and I did my best not to get smirky. He did too, and he was much better at acting than I was. The affection and the amusement mainly showed in his eyes, and they were gone within seconds.
Mr. Williams totally kept an eye on me, and it was important to me that I didn’t veer off course. I was a professional and whatnot.
“Parker, you go first,” Mr. Williams told me. He turned to Wyatt. “For the sake of getting all information right, I asked them to use first names for this.”
Wyatt inclined his head. “Of course. There are a few of us to keep track of.”
Luckily, we weren’t dealing with the other freaking Abramses flying out from New York. Kim, Mya, and I had worked on the material for Clarke, his children Sean, Mary, Joey, and Christian, then Wyatt, and Clarke’s grandson, Toby.
I stood up and headed over to the whiteboard, and I fanned out the five folders that belonged to “my” three Abramses.
“I’m saving Sean for last since he will fly directly to Luxembourg and then to Brussels,” I mentioned. After grabbing one of the markers, I started making notes on the whiteboard, and I could only hope Wyatt didn’t have too many adjustments. We wanted to get this cemented and sent out as soon as possible. “Okay, so Clarke, Wyatt, and Toby are flying out to London on the seventeenth—and with the time zones and middle landing in New York, you arrive in the UK late in the afternoon on the eighteenth,” I said. “The print place in Archway will deliver your personal material to the hotel, and your assistants can pick it up in the lobby.” I side-eyed the London folder and flipped a page, making sure I started with the right meeting. “Clarke has a dinner meeting scheduled for that night, but we didn’t receive any notes or speeches, so I’m assuming it’s informal…?”
Wyatt nodded. “It’s with the other organizers.”
Right. Okay. Yeah, I bet there was plenty of coordinating going on, considering all seminars in all venues, all dinners, all luncheons, and all workshops were estimated to attract over six thousand people. And it was all these invisible fields you never heard about. Attendees came from companies that provided software and products for other companies in order for them to bring out their own products, and the Abrams family covered so many sectors. From entertainment logistics, event services, and branding in the food industry, to studio production and product development—and then marketing and print design to wrap it all up in a nice bow.
“In that case, your assistants can pick up the first material on the evening when you arrive at the hotel in London,” I said, adding that to the board. “So that brings us to the breakfast meeting the morning after. Wyatt, sir, you’re speaking at Grosvenor House before you’re heading straight to the convention center, and Toby will be with you.” I looked to Suravi. “I’ll make a note to ensure the Grosvenor House material is separated from the rest—it’s mostly his speech, a few pamphlets, the reports, and the flash drives with the presentation for next year’s ambitions.”
Suravi nodded and made notes on her iPad.
“Why aren’t we just printing the reports at the office?” Wyatt asked.
“Clarke requested higher quality since you’re handing them out to potential clients,” Mr. Williams answered. “Every report is a presentation.”
Wyatt scratched his eyebrow, seemingly not too happy. “Fair enough. God forbid they receive digits on copy paper.”
I felt my mouth twitch. He was thinking about spending money “wisely.” But marketing was good. This multicity conference was an Abrams display. They had something to show, to sell, to promote. Or rather, a million things to showcase.
“By the way—” Wyatt turned to Mr. Williams. “How are you coordinating with the New York office? How many graphic designers are coming?”
“Four from New York, none from us,” Mr. Williams replied. “Our graphic design department is too small.”
I scratched the bottom of the marker against my temple.
Wyatt flicked me a glance, and I… Oh crap, he wasn’t going there, was he?
He cleared his throat and faced Mr. Williams again. “I’d appreciate if you could spare one and convince Parker to join us. I want him on the floor with me during the workshops.”
Holy fuck, he totally went there.
I blinked.
This…was maybe not great—and maybe it could be handled with more finesse? Kim was the official head of our little squad, and she might be giving me a sly smirk right now, but it looked like favoritism to me.