Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I should clarify that he makes the women miserable.” She leans back. “Let’s just say he likes to be hands-on. Not with me, but some of the others. He talks down to us as if we’re all here to work for him.”
Hearing this doesn’t help my blood pressure. We’ve only been working together for a few days, but we share a level of comfort as if it’s been much longer. “I trust you, Leanna.”
She smiles. “I trust you, too, Noah.”
“Can I ask you something that’s really none of my business and trust that it will stay between us?”
“Of course.” Her body language is relaxed, her expression open.
Despite the lack of time we’ve spent together, my gut tells me she’s an ally I can talk to. “HR went over the no-dating policy. They didn’t go into detail but mentioned it was put into place in the past two years due to a situation.”
She looks down at her lap, her fingers twisting along with her lips to the side. “Chip and Olivia.” Her eyes plead with mine when she adds, “Don’t let it get out I told you. I like Olivia, but she gets a bad rap around here. Some people love to stir up controversy to discount her hard work while letting Chip skate by on his last name alone.”
I appreciate having my hunches verified, but I’m confused as to why she’s so disliked by some. “Why is that?”
Ticking her fingers one by one, she replies, “Smart. Funny. Obviously beautiful. The boss’s daughter. The blowout with Chip. Everything and anything.” Leanna stands. “You should get going so you’re not late for the lunch appointment. I’ll call a car.”
“Thank you.” This newfound information regarding the Ice Queen fills in some of the blanks. It also might help me understand how to reach a truce with Liv since it sounds like she’s taken the fall for other people’s misdeeds. I grab my phone and say, “I’m ready to go.”
I spend the next few hours with the company’s namesake. It’s not a bad lunch or conversation. Something feels off with Lowe. Although I’ve now met him a few times this week, something hangs in the air between us—a slight intimidation tactic in his mannerisms. It doesn’t work, so I let it go, but it’s noted.
I’ve met a lot of characters over the years from professors who threaten to fail you if you question one thing that doesn’t make sense to coaches who make you drop and give them push-ups because you’re two minutes late to practice. I’m not threatened by him or his son, but there’s no connection with them either.
Unlike his daughter, Mr. Bancroft is a breeze to read. Listens intently. Open to hearing ideas, even basic brainstorming. Easy to please because he likes me.
What I don’t like is the way he treats his daughter. I’m not jumping into the middle of family history, but it’s not all roses between them. That much is clear to everyone who works here.
So although I’m already forming opinions on each of them, I don’t question their knowledge of business practices. They’ve built a solid company and work solely off referrals with a waiting list begging to become clients. I was hired to do a job, and I’ll do that to the best of my ability.
When I return, I pass Leanna’s desk, tapping it on my way to my office. “I take it the meeting went well?”
“Better than well. Come into my office and close the door behind you.”
When she arrives, she sits down. “So what happened?”
“They’ve given me a lot of leeway to save this client, so let’s figure out the best method to proceed. I’m thinking about dinner with the Torres’s. They agreed to Friday night.” Kicking back in my chair, I add, “Drinks, good food, and great company if I do say so myself.” I turn back to her. “If I can get one hour of their time, I’ll have them renewing the contract.”
“Dinner is perfect.” She jots down notes. “Wine them. Dine them. Woo them. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble winning them over.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Leaning back in my chair, I stare out the window, hoping to solve this concern before it becomes a problem. “There’s only one small issue.”
“What’s that?”
Glancing her way, I say, “I need the expenditures for every campaign, target, and medium utilized on their account. I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you get me the files so I can brush up on their account?”
She looks up from her notes and nods. “Shouldn’t be an issue. I can put in the request. It may take a day or two, though.”
“We need to see where things have gone wrong by connecting the creative to the finances. Mrs. Torres is all about the bottom line. I want to come to the table with explanations, not excuses. What are the chances I can get a peek at that file tonight?”