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“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Hadn’t I?
“I’m just having a hard time trying to find my mind this morning.”
For the rest of the weekend, I racked my brain of who could have driven me home. Come Monday morning, I sat in my office, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, at High Society Public Relations. My mom was now the business's sole owner since she bought out the first owner about ten years ago.
When I was working for my mom’s firm before, I had multiple clients, and I was damn good at my job. The first year, I brought in 20.5 percent, the second, 22.7 percent, and the third, fourth, and fifth years, my numbers only increased substantially. Now, I was still getting my feet wet, helping other team members with their clients, and I did not have any of my own yet.
A knock on my glass door made me look up from the document I was reading. I smiled, gesturing for my mom to enter.
“Good morning,” she greeted, closing the door behind her.
“Morning.”
“How are you feeling today?”
“I’m good.”
“Great! I come bearing great news.”
“What’s that?”
She beamed. “I’ve come to assign you to your first client.”
My eyes widened, feeling excited. “Really?”
She sat down in the chair in front of my desk. “Yes, and the management team said they’d only work with you.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Is it for one of my previous clients?”
“I don’t think so. It’s through a company named Oasis, and you’re scheduled to meet them this afternoon.”
“Is it for more than one person, like a team?”
“It’s for the owner, Mr. Ferris. That’s who you’ll be meeting, including his team. They’ll be launching a new company, and from what I can tell, it will be a very demanding client. Especially with their press tour. But with that said, this will double our revenue for the quarter and put us as the country's number one public relations agency.”
“Oh my God, Mom.” I shook my head, not feeling ready. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. I have full faith in you.”
“This is a lot of pressure, and I haven’t done PR in two years. I’m rusty, I don’t think?—”
“It’s like riding a bike. Let me remind you, you were our top publicist for five years straight, Capri. I know you can handle this.”
“I…I…I…”
“Relax.” She stood, placing their folder on my desk. “You have all morning to learn everything about their business.”
“Holy crap!” I sat straight up and immediately got down to business.
The morning flew by far too quickly, and before I knew it, I was buzzing the gate to the estate where I was meeting the owner.
“Hi, this is Capri Locke with High Society Public Relations. I’m here to meet Mr. Ferris.”
A voice came through the speaker. “Welcome.” Seconds later, the iron gates opened, and I drove through.
