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Chapter Two
Cade
"Boss, you don't haveto go there. I'm handling it," my assistant, John, said to me on Monday morning.
"No problem, John. I want to be on top of everything." I'd arrived at our office on Boylston Street at eight o’clock. I wasn't leaving anything to chance when it came to the competition.
The booths in Harvard Square were opening at nine o’clock sharp. That gave me enough time to give my team a pep talk before heading over.
"Okay, understood. Want me to come with you?" he asked.
"No, I'll call with any instructions I have."
John looked like he was about to pee his pants. Good, he should. I wasn't going to accept anything less than perfection.
We both stepped into the big meeting room, looking around. My top management was sitting around the oval table. John took one of the two empty seats.
"Morning, team," I said, unbuttoning my suit jacket, taking it off, and draping it around the back of the chair at the head of the table. "I'm going to make this brief. These next few weeks will be crucial for us. As you know, winning the competition will go a long way in restoring the company's reputation. Now let's go through everything once to make sure everyone has their responsibilities covered. Mark, you can begin. The floor is yours." I took my seat as Mark stood.
Mark was the VP of marketing. He was in charge of coordinating everything. I sat up straight in my chair, my focus razor-sharp on his presentation. I didn't have anything to add, which was a good sign. He was as prepared as he could be.
"Good," I said at the end, and he looked relieved. I wasn't an asshole, but I didn't give praise too often. It had to be earned.
"You're still going to Harvard Square?" he double-checked.
I nodded. "Yes. We can regroup here in the afternoon. John will let you know when I’m back and send everyone a calendar invite. Now let’s all get to work."
Although everyone smiled, I could see the apprehension on their faces as I got up from my chair. John was on my heels as I left the room.
"Why is everyone so tense?" I asked him.
"You're joking, right? You've been riding our asses for months about the competition."
"No, I’m just making sure everything is running smoothly."
He held up his hands. "I'm just saying. You're usually more easygoing, but with this event, you’ve become a little heavy-handed."
I swallowed hard. Noticing a cuff link had come undone, I fixed it.
"It's important" was all I said.
My dad had all but ruined the Whitley name while financially hurting our businesses. This was personal. Family meant everything to me and winning meant everything to my family. I’d been working on restoring the company’s reputation since I took over. Winning would cement that reputation.
I Ubered to Harvard Square in Cambridge. Driving and having to find a parking spot was a waste of time. My brother Jake used a driver, and the idea had its merits, but in the age of Uber, I didn't see the need to have someone at my beck and call when I could just order a car with a few clicks.
When I stepped out of the vehicle, I took in my surroundings. Competitors were milling around the square, setting up the booths, but no visitors were allowed in yet. The day was cold, even for October. After the hellishly hot summer we'd had, everyone expected a mild fall and winter, but that was not the case. It didn't matter. Cold weather was great for business, as consumption of hot beverages went up considerably.
I headed straight to our booth. Monica and Darren, two people we’d picked from our sales team, were tending it.
They were junior interns who we hired last year, and I was certain they were the best people we could have here. They were energetic and passionate about our products. Some of our more senior members on the team were too formal and not as outgoing. They weren't people-people, but Monica and Darren were.
"Good morning, boss," Monica greeted me as I walked over.
