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But I guess when your client is the world’s biggest tampon brand, then period talk was a given. If you can’t stand the heat, then get out of the kitchen, and all that…
I got a few glances during the meeting, but my presence did nothing to hamper the conversation.
The stuff of my nightmares.
And I’d already asked my boss to take me off the account.
“Marilyn, why do you want a guy working with a tampon client? I mean, what could I possibly contribute?” I asked her.
“First of all, there is nothing wrong with menstruation—”
“I didn’t say there was! It’s just that since I don’t menstruate, I don’t see what value I’d be adding to the discussion.” Jesus Christ, get me off this fucking account.
“Tanner,” she started, using her patient voice that was code for I’m going to get pissed if you don’t back off, “you are the best media buyer in the company. This client is a huge win for us, and I put together the strongest team we have. A little period talk won’t kill you.”
She turned back to her computer, code for this discussion is over.
I’d worked with her for a long time. I knew her codes.
Shit.
I exited her office, steeling myself for a new life immersed in feminine hygiene products, when a loud voice boomed from the office’s reception area, nearby. It wasn’t a happy one.
“I told you I needed this done right away,” a male voice bellowed.
A subdued female voice responded. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I had a feeling she was in what they called “a one-down position.” You know—powerless. I poked my head into the reception area.
“Hey, guys. All good here?” I asked.
Standing there was Bob, the douchebag from finance, and our receptionist, whose eyes were wide in her bright red face. One might say she looked terrified.
What was her name again?
Bob opened his big trap to start mouthing off again but seemed to think better of it. In a huff, he brushed past me and headed back toward his office.
The receptionist, whose name I suddenly remembered—Jayma—was blowing her nose and dabbing her red eyes.
“What happened, Jayma? Are you okay?”
She sniffled.
“Yes. I’m fine.” She shuffled papers around on her desk to avoid looking at me. “I’m really fine. Thank you.” She looked up at me. Mmmm, cute with big brown eyes.
“Okay. Okay. I can punch him out for you, if you like. Or just fuck up his email.”
She looked at me, brows knit.
r /> And she burst out laughing.
My specialty. Breaking up tension. Making people laugh. Talking about periods.
She took a deep breath. “It’s all good. It was just a misunderstanding. Of course, I’m happy to help Bob.”
Shit, I don’t know why I’d not paid more attention to this woman before. She was fucking gorgeous with her crazy red hair and freckles.
“Jayma?”
“Yes?” she asked brightly.
