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“Well then, let's jump right into it,” she says, leaning back over the conference table and taking a seat.
I see a sheet in front of me with the whole first-year’s calendar laid out with the events and dates of everything the winning company will be expected to take care of. Seeing the much larger list than I was expecting has my heart racing. A lot of them are small team signing or media days that won’t require “the works“ like bouncy houses and cotton candy machines, but having this much work might even mean bringing on a second assistant.
The potential is so exciting that I have to keep my mind on the task ahead. I haven’t won them over yet.
“As you can see on the list,” Marjorie says, pulling out a pair of glasses and adjusting them as she peers down at the list. “This contract will encompass many different projects over the years. Although I have done most of this myself with the assistance of Penelope Roberts, the sports world is changing, and with it, higher demand for public displays, flash and pizazz.” She says.
“And that is exactly what we plan to do,” I say, nodding in agreement and glancing up from the calendar in my hand. “May I plug into the projector for the presentation that I prepared?”
“Yes, please do.” Marjorie says. “We love a tech savvy planners.”
I watch as Penelope and Autumn make a note.
Penelope gets up from her chair to make sure I don’t need any help and within a few minutes, we are up a rolling.
Twenty-five minutes later, the allotment of time I was told I had in the email, we are through my presentation of what I can bring to the Hawkeyes and some examples of work I’ve done in the past.
My presentation was flawless but whether or not that will be enough to win them over with the steep competition waiting out in the lobby… I don’t know.
I shake hands again with all three women before I exit the conference room and head for the elevator.
Hitting the elevator button, the first thing I want to do is call Shawnie and tell her about the stiff competition we have up against us but my phone rings in my hand.
The bank.
Elevators are notorious for bad reception but I can’t let this go to voicemail in case this an approval phone call. And I can’t have a call with the bank about winning this contract while standing in the lobby
“This is Juliet,” I say at the same time as the elevator doors open.
“Hello Juliet. This is Stewart from the bank regarding your loan. Do you have a moment?”
“Yes. I do,” I tell him.
I step into the elevator, willing it not to drop my call.
“Great. I just wanted to verify that this loan is contingent on you winning a five-year planning contract with the Hawkeyes hockey team. Is that correct?” he asks.
“That’s correct.”
“And have you been awarded the contract?” he asks.
“No, not yet. I just met with them this morning.”
“When will they be awarding the contract?”
I don’t like the hesitation in his voice after hearing my answer.
“In four days. But I need those funds now for the down payment in order to secure the spot for my brother.”
“I understand Ms. Di Costa but without the contract, we can’t approve the loan—”
“If I don’t have the down payment and sign the contract by the end of the week, they’ll give his spot to someone else. I don’t have that much liquid cash available right now,” I explain.
Not to mention that signing that contract holds me to paying the monthly payment for my brother care for the next twelve months… whether or not I will the Hawkeyes contract.
“I’m sorry Ms. Di Costa. If we can’t verify income, we can’t distribute the funds. Let me know as soon as you are in contract with the Hawkeyes and we will reopen your request for a loan.”
“Reopen my request?” I blurt out in frustration.
