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Blair touches her dad’s hand with a smile.
“I love it. It’s chancy, but I like playing the odds and being different once in a while. Great job, Annie.” He puts out his hand, and I shake it.
Relief drains all the tension out of my body.
Mr. Jacobson stands. “Good job, Enzo and Annie.”
Enzo cocks his head at Mr. Jacobson. “It was all Annie.”
Blair’s head turns from Enzo to me, and a mask of clarity falls over her features.
“I know she had to do the heavy lifting, but don’t think I don’t know that you guided her along.” Mr. Jacobson slaps Enzo’s back, and Enzo’s mouth is ajar, but no words come out. “Let’s go to lunch and celebrate.”
“Actually, we have to catch a plane back to Texas. We have a tournament to get to.” Blair catches her dad’s eye, and they smile.
“Yeah, my granddaughter told me she’s going to hit a home run for me tonight.” Mr. Peterson winks at me, and I smile.
Mr. Jacobson lingers by the door. “She plays softball?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s cute when they dress like baseball players in pink.”
Blair’s eyes cut to her dad’s. I’m pretty sure smoke is blowing out of his ears.
“Actually, they wipe the field with the baseball players, and they wear black,” Mr. Peterson says.
Enzo is surprisingly quiet. I’d expect him to be interjecting and playing nice.
“Of course there’re good softball teams, but there isn’t really a future for them.”
I desperately want to tell Mr. Jacobson to leave. He’s going to be the one to ruin this account for us. Can the man not read a room?
“With all due respect, many baseball players don’t have a future either,” Blair chimes in. “And if we wanted to go into reasons why women’s sports aren’t as big as men’s, we could be here all day.”
“I didn’t mean any offense. Guess I’m just old school.”
I look blankly at Enzo, and he closes his eyes. This is getting worse.
“Annie, is there any way you can show me the sketches you did for this before we leave? I want to make sure I see your complete vision.”
“Um… sure… I’ll be right back.” I step forward to slip out.
Enzo shoots me a look to say he knows what Blair wants and it’s not the sketches.
Blair follows me out. “I’ll just go with you. Save us some time.”
“They’re in Enzo’s office,” I say and try not to slow my footsteps, but when we reach his office, I have no choice but to stop and let her catch up.
She follows me in and shuts the door. “Annie, you gotta see the writing on the wall here. That campaign is brilliant, and I know Enzo Mancini had no part of it. That was written and directed by a female.”
I nod.
“You heard Mr. Jacobson’s sexist remarks. You have to jump ship. And I’m hoping you jump to mine.”
I sit on the couch, picking up the sketchbook, but I know she doesn’t want it. “I told you, I can’t.”
“Because you and Enzo are screwing around?”
