At least Mike looked just as shocked as I felt. A sure sign that it wasn’t my pitch that was the problem. Just that the person I was pitching to was an asshole.
“I’m sorry about him,” Bev said, rising from her chair. “It’s not you. He’s got other things going on.”
“It’s not a problem,” I said through gritted teeth. It most certainly was a problem. I had spent days on this pitch, and he never intended to listen to it—the nerve of that jerk to waste my time.
“Look, despite that scene he just caused, I’m the decision-maker, and I’m drowning.”
My ears perked up at her desperate tone. Was there still a shot of landing this?
“We would be happy to take some of that burden off you,” I said. “Trust me. This is exactly the type of work our firm was made for. We’ll organize all your processes. When we're done, I promise we’ll have your lodge running like a well-oiled machine.”
I slid a packet of papers toward her.
“Maybe you and your nephew would like to review our numbers and mission privately to see if we’d be a good fit. I’ve outlined the details here.”
“I appreciate a prepared woman.” She winked at me.
Mike was sitting so far forward in his seat that I thought he might fall out of it. I could tell he was eager to intervene, but he knew I had a way of reading people. Bev seemed like the type of person that valued her privacy and didn’t like to make a production of things. The raw numbers and no bullshit information were precisely what she needed to make a decision.
She took my packet and paused in the doorframe. “I’ll review this on our flight home and get back to you. Again, I’m sorry for the outburst. I hope we can move past this if we do decide to go forward.”
“Of course,” Mike and I said in unison. I’m not sure which of our smiles was bigger.
As soon as Bev was out of earshot, Mike raised his hand, and I gleefully high-fived it.
“What a save. I thought we were screwed when he walked out of here like that. Good job having that write-up prepared.”
“We’re not in the clear yet,” I reminded him. While I was an eternal optimist, I did try to keep a realistic perspective on things.
“When she sees those estimated returns and reduced working hours, it’ll be a no-brainer.”
“Fingers crossed,” I replied. “Let’s just hope if we do land this account, there will be minimal interaction with that pro snowboarder asshat.”
ChapterThree
I tappedmy fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as I stared out into the endless sea of tail lights. I planned to leave work early and change before meeting Garrett and our friends at dinner, but unfortunately, an issue at one of our properties forced me to stay late. Now I was stuck in traffic trying to get to the restaurant.
“Shoot,” I muttered.
There was no way I’d be there on time. I loathed being late, even if Iwasbarely given any notice.
It occurred to me at some point during the day that Garrett must have known Will was going to propose long before it happened. Maybe it shouldn’t have bothered me that he didn’t mention it, but part of me knew his exclusion of information was tied directly to how he knew this would make me feel.
I desperately wanted to be happy for them, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Will, his perpetual bachelor friend—the one who didn’t know what a top sheet was and still ate bologna sandwiches—was getting married before us.
Garrett probably figured I would obsess about it and read too much into it.
Well, he was wrong.
I’m fine.I told myself as my knuckles turned white from gripping the wheel.
Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at the Italian bistro where Garrett had texted me to meet them. I was already a few minutes late, but I sat in the car for a few moments attempting to collect myself.
I pulled down my visor mirror and practiced smiling.
“I’m so happy for you,” I whispered.
Fake, you look fake.
