Nina couldn’t stop. Being invited to Mr Ryan’s office was a rare occurrence and she couldn’t leave him waiting. ‘My keys? Has he lost the apartment keys in Tokyo? Couldn’t the doorman let him in?’
‘No, ma’am.’
Nina was already hurriedly reaching into her Kate Spade and tossing him the keys. ‘Fournival, can you make sure the apartment dresser gets paid, and tell Luke I’ll be home on time tonight.’
She didn’t wait for a reply and had stepped inside the waiting elevator before she could catch Fournival’s sheepish, guilty look as he clutched her keys in his hand.
‘Ah, Nina! Sit, sit.’ Seamus Ryan smiled, beckoning her towards the vast coffee table on the far side of the room where he had been lounging, reading from a leather folder.
Looking around to see Mitch closing the door, leaving them alone, Nina did as she was told, crossing the room to perch on one of the Fritz Hansen chairs, a design classic.
She knew from office lore that mid-level employees were only ever invited to the coffee table when there was bad news. Mitch had told her once, ‘They call it the last-chance saloon. So long as there’s nopastriesto soften the blow, you might stand a fighting chance of keeping your job.’
Nina looked at the platter of cinnamon buns on the table and felt her adrenalin spike.
‘So, good news!’ said Seamus, making a gregarious show of pouring Nina a black coffee from a gold pot, something she’d never seen him do for staff before.
‘OK?’ She waited expectantly. She’d spoken with Seamus a handful of times in meetings, but she definitely couldn’t say they were on friendly terms. Maybe Seamus was giving her the VIP treatment because she was Luke’s girlfriend? Even if Seamus had seniority over Luke in the company hierarchy, the men were still golfing buddies and colleagues right at the top of the organisation. It was only right he’d be kind to her. Was she being singled out for a special Christmas bonus, perhaps?
His voice was surprisingly flat compared to his pleasant smile. ‘We’re taking you off your accounts.’
‘You are? But why? I helped secure those accounts’ celebrity and influencer buy-ins, I led all the early discussions…’
‘That’s right, and I want to thank you personally for your stellar work, but Mr Casson has head-hunted a colleague in Kyoto and is flying her in to take over your role. She’s very well connected in the markets we want to tap into going forward.’
‘Luke’s scouted someone to replace me?Lukehas?’
Seamus was still smiling over his coffee cup, legs crossed, casually flaunting his shiny Gucci slipper shoes. He only nodded. Of course he knew about Nina and Luke; the company’s ‘it’ couple. They hadn’t made a big deal of their relationship at work, but it was common knowledge that Nina had moved in with Luke only a few months after starting her internship at Microtrends three years ago, her first job in the States.
Nina’s mind raced, trying to understand why Luke would bring in someone new to oust her, and her heart thumped hard under her silk Prada blouse.
‘Am I being promoted?’
‘I wouldn’t say it was anupwardpromotion. Think of it as a… parallel move, with a moderate deceleration in salary and benefits.’
‘You said it was good news.’ Nina tried to keep the wobble out of her voice.
‘Oh it is. I have a new assignment for you. You’re going home.’
‘To England?’
‘Close enough. Scotland.’
‘Scotland?’ At the back of her mind she was still processing the news that Luke had replaced her without having so much as mentioned the fact he was looking for a new Trend Forecaster and Client Brand Relations Facilitator. She’d thought the fact she was dating one of the top execs would mean she’d be involved in these restructuring discussions before they happened, especially when it meant she was for the chop.
Seamus was spreading a folder open in front of her. ‘The Scottish Highlands, to be precise. Someone in Creative picked up a lead about a new movement of craft collectives, real grass roots stuff. We want to scope it out before anyone else does. Let’s see what’s going on over there that might align with our upcoming luxury heritage brand launches. I want you to assess the scene, find new product, scout some talent. At the very least treat it like a recce of backdrops for editorials and brand shoots, okay? Scottish heritage and nostalgia is still selling and we want the consumer buy-in that real Scottish authenticity brings. You should be looking for real deal craftsmanship steeped in tradition. I’m thinking new designer whiskies, I’m thinking crystal, I’m thinking new trends in tweed…’
Nina knew she should be taking notes, but she was frozen in her chair at the news that she was, essentially, being demoted to a product scout when, minutes ago, she’d been a rising star in line for promotion in the New Year and ready to lead a brand relaunch of her own. Luke had promised her.
Seamus talked on. ‘Mitch has arranged your flights and hotel. It’s all there in the documents.’
‘But, I don’t under—’
This time his voice was firm. ‘You’ve been relieved of your accounts, Nina. This is your new assignment. I advise you to make good connectionsof your ownover there and come back with a strong portfolio of client offerings for our buyers and brand developers stateside, OK?’
She nodded. It’s not like she had any choice. ‘Why me?’
‘You’re the only British junior in the office,’ he shrugged. ‘And the rest of us have family and client commitments for the holidays. Besides, you’re single.’
