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“You didn’t even know my name before I started working with you.”
“I knew you though. What can I say? I should pay more attention to details, but my mind has been on the partnership since I was hired here. It’s like a tunnel from the elevator to my office. But just because I didn’t know your name doesn’t mean I didn’t notice you.” He puts his finger under my chin and raises my head so my eyes meet his.
I smile. The man could sell hay to a farmer, but I’ll take it because today I need every piece of self-confidence.
He checks his watch. “It’s showtime.”
I inhale deeply and nod.
He opens the door, squeezing my hand one last time before I have to act as if I haven’t been falling for him for weeks.
* * *
A half hour later,we’re all seated around the table—Blair and Mr. Peterson sitting closest to me, and Mr. Jacobson and Enzo at the end of the table with Billy to their left. Mr. Jacobson leans over and says something to Enzo, whose jaw clenches for a moment before he smiles. He sits up straighter and his smile only widens when he catches me watching.
“I want to thank you again for joining us today. When it came to your sanitary products, the approach you’ve taken so far has been the one most companies in your industry take. ‘Look, no leaks!’ Ignoring the realities of what it’s like to have your period. Even if a woman feels totally confident she’s not going to have an embarrassing leak, she still doesn’t want to go out riding her bike, or dancing the night away, or any one of the hundreds of activities I’ve seen women do while wearing white pants in commercials over the years.
“Just the word period can make a man uncomfortable. So why would you want to bring that word into an ad campaign? I think there’s a way to get across what’s happening—at least to the gender using the sanitary products. Women. When I show you this campaign, I don’t want you to think how you’re feeling about it, but how a woman would feel. Obviously, Blair, you’re good.”
Blair laughs and smiles, hopefully meaning she’s receptive to changing their approach.
“I’ll show you the tape, then I’ll talk about the case study and answer any questions you have.”
Enzo stands and turns off the lights, and I smile at him in appreciation. He winks and my already-anxious stomach flips.
The ad plays. A woman is on screen in a cycling class, working out vigorously, sweating and panting. A man walks in the room and talks about having your period and how nothing can stop a woman. The camera slowly moves to show another woman barely moving the pedals, hunched over her machine.
From there, the ad continues, showing a woman getting ready to go dancing in a short white skirt and tank top, running out of her house to a car full of her friends. The scene flips to another girl lying on the couch in oversized black sweatpants and a sweatshirt with a bowl of ice cream in her lap, yelling at her significant other to grab the heating pad.
A scene of a woman dining in a five-star restaurant with a hot guy morphs to one of a woman sorting through her laundry and tossing a couple pairs of panties in the garbage.
As the ad draws to a close, a slogan lands on the page. “We’re there for you when your life is on pause for three to seven days.”
Enzo, being a champ, turns the lights back on slowly. Billy pats himself on the back for a job well done, which eases the pressure of wondering about Blair’s thoughts.
I pick up the handout to talk about the case study, but Blair doesn’t turn the page.
“It’s chancy,” she says.
I nod. “It is.”
I glance at Enzo, who beams and nods, silently acknowledging that it’s going well.
“But I like it. I can relate, and I’m sure most women can too,” Blair says.
“If you look at the study, you’d be surprised how many women enjoyed the realism.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t need to see any of that. I go with my gut and I love it. Dad?”
Our heads all turn toward Mr. Peterson.
“I doubt your dad has an opinion on what is clearly a woman thing,” Mr. Jacobson says.
Blair glances at me as though she’s waiting to judge my reaction to my boss.
I smile, masking my distaste. I’m sure Mr. Peterson does have an opinion.
“I’ve seen a period take down my wife more than once. If you think period is a bad word, try menopause. If I could have traded places with my poor wife, I would have.”
