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There are several people who cheer and we all clap along. Of course there are a few people who look less than thrilled. Not everyone wants to have fun at work, I guess.
“A lot of you have been in the marketing game for a long time. You know the ins and outs. You have met lots of people who give you connections that help you achieve certain goals.” Sheila pauses. “We want you to throw that all away.”
A few people murmur at each other, shocked at what they’re hearing. But for some reason, this new information has me sitting up taller.
“Hansen Marketing is ready for something new, something invigorating.” Sheila reaches into her bag and pulls out a bar of soap. “Each of you will spend the next few weeks coming up with a brand-new campaign for this brand of soap.”
“The next few weeks? How long is this hiring process?”
The man who asks looks to be in his forties. Sheila levels him with a look.
“If you read your initial contract, you would know we don’t have a set time. We spend anywhere from two to six weeks.”
He scoffs and stands, gathering his coat. “Thanks.”
We all watch him go, and some of the others smile. Likely because it’s one less person to deal with.
Once he’s left the room, she turns her attention to us. “Well, we know working isn’t free, therefore, you will all receive a small stipend to be a temporary part of our team.” She almost smirks. “Glad you’ve stayed with me so far?” She doesn’t wait for answers. “Good. Along with this task, you will be joining us on a two-night wilderness adventure. Work it out with your significant others, because we want them there. We leave next Thursday.”
Wilderness adventure? Archer will love that. He’s Mr. Outdoorsman. Me, on the other hand, not as much.
“Come on up here and pick up your packets for the soap product, then I’ll show you where you’ll be working for the time being.”
I stand to grab a packet and start brainstorming. How the heck am I supposed to sell soap?
Chapter Ten
“Bros before hoes is so outdated. Bring your hoes, they’re way smarter than us.” –Enzo
VIVIANA
I’m expecting Archer to be there waiting for me when I enter the loft, that bubble of excitement that’s been residing in my gut hasn’t deflated since he texted me.
It took a brief pause, perhaps, when I was focused at work, but it was always there. Lingering. Waiting. Watching.
Creepy gut.
As I take the elevator to the floor, I wonder what it is he has to tell me and why I was the one he texted.
Not like I was upset by this. I was mortifyingly excited that I was who he wanted to share his excitement with.
The elevator dings too soon and I have to push away the thoughts instead of continuing to analyze them for the next thirty minutes—or hours—and focus on the present.
I was also thinking of how I was going to come up with a new concept to sell soap… but I’ll worry about that tomorrow.
I knock on the door to the loft and wait impatiently for Archer to answer. When the handle turns, I turn on my bright smile and feel a tight squeeze in my stomach that tells me I need to calm down.
When it’s the face of Garrett instead of Archer, I allow myself to breathe again.
“Hey, Garrett.” I take in his gruff appearance. He’s still wearing his auto garage shirt with his name stitched over the left breast.
“Hey, Viv. Come in.” He opens the door for me and extends his hands, this is when I hear the other guys, and it sounds like they’re having some sort of party.
“What’s happening in there?” I gesture and then follow Garrett when he heads back toward the noise.
“Archer got some job today.”
“Oh.” I don’t have much to say to that, but that’s because I come into the kitchen, and around the island are… all the guys.
