Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

MARLOW

H e led us down a corridor to a brightly lit room, its walls painted in cheerful yellows. A couple of vending machines hummed in the corner. There was also a fancy coffeemaker, a refrigerator, and several tables and chairs scattered around. An espresso machine was on another counter with an assortment of syrups and creamers. A basket filled with snacks was positioned by a microwave and toaster oven.

"Here we are," he announced, sweeping his arm around the room in a presenting gesture that provoked a smile out of me. "The heart and soul of day-to-day operations," he added jokingly.

Kyla's eyes immediately zeroed in on the espresso machine, her delight evident. "That's an impressive setup," she said, moving closer to inspect it. I made a mental note to keep her away from any caffeine overdoses during our working hours.

"Feel free to help yourself," Spencer said. "It's one of the perks of working here. We take care of our people."

I nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."

"However, the coffee bar out front is free as well," he went on. "It's a perk we offer our clients. We discourage our staff from clogging up the place. When it's slow, it's no problem."

"Understood." Kyla nodded.

"While we're here, I'm going to grab some juice," Spencer said.

When he opened the refrigerator, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. It was like a convenience store shelf, with rows of neatly stacked drinks in organizers that allowed for plenty of stock. There was everything from sparkling water to vitamin-enhanced beverages, and a whole rainbow of fruit juices. Red Bull and other energy drinks were in their own section. There were also salads and sandwiches, all triple-wrapped in cling film and clearly labeled with the day's date.

Spencer grabbed a bottle of apple juice and twisted off the cap. "Feel free to take anything you want. If something runs out, leave a note for Sandra. She handles the break room stock."

Kyla was still marveling at the espresso machine, running her fingers along the gleaming steel and examining each button as if it were a precious jewel. "I'll likely become best friends with this machine."

"I hope so." I grinned. "I have a feeling we're going to need lots of caffeine."

"Trust me, that thing sees a lot of use." Spencer nodded. "I think it's the third or fourth one we've had in here."

I opened the refrigerator to grab an orange juice, eyeing the salads and sandwiches. "There's enough food here to feed an army," I commented.

Spencer took a sip of his juice, grinning. "We do long hours here, so we make sure the team has access to good food when they need it."

As we left the break room, I felt a sizzle of energy roll through me. I was ready to get started. I loved the challenge of a new client. It was like starting with a clean slate.

"I should warn you, this particular client is a little challenging," Spencer said. "We've already got a pitch—several pitches to be more accurate. I'll have Janet send the file over. I don't expect you to do much more than listen in and get a feel for the way we do business."

I nodded, disappointed it was an existing strategy but still eager to get right to work. "Sounds good," I said.

He left us to find our way back. Once we were back in my office, Kyla closed the door. A huge smile spread across her face. "Can you believe this?!"

"I know," I responded, sharing her elation. "This place is much more than I expected."

Kyla moved toward the window, peering out at the busy street below. "I can't wait to get started," she said, turning around with an excited glimmer in her eyes.

I couldn't help but mirror her enthusiasm. We were both here to make our mark, to bring something new to the table.

"Okay, I need to get started," I said, sitting at my desk. "I don't want to walk into that meeting looking like the newbie that doesn't know anything."

A few minutes later, my laptop, her tablet, and the desktop the company provided were all signed in. I checked the time and took a drink of my juice. "Crunch time," I said.

I looked over the pitch that had just come through from Janet. It was clear that the client was looking for something innovative, something bold. I felt a surge of determination coursing through me. This was our chance to shine, to prove our worth. This was why people sought me out. I didn't follow all the old advertising rules that had been established long before I was even born. I liked edgy and cool and different.

Kyla settled in next to me, her eyes scanning over the document. "This is going to be interesting," she remarked, a spark of excitement in her voice.

I nodded in agreement, already crafting ideas in my mind. As we went through the details, brainstorming and bouncing ideas off each other, Kyla made notes for me. I checked the time again. "I better get in there. Hopefully, they will find you a desk. If you don't have one by lunch, we'll call the office supply company and I'll get you one."

"Thanks, boss." She grinned. "I'll just be sitting in here enjoying your little lap of luxury while you're in your meeting."

"Enjoy." I smiled and collected my laptop.

I walked down the hall, noticing people notice me. When I walked into the conference room, Spencer was standing and talking to another man that was ridiculously handsome.

"Marlow," he said when he saw me. "I'll make quick introductions. The client is on his way up right now. This is Graham. He works in marketing. Jax is our marketing designer, and Sebastian is one of our accountants. Typically, Jax and Seb don't sit in on this stage of the game, but due to the high stakes with this account, we're pulling out all the stops."

"It's nice to meet you, gentlemen," I said and shook each of their hands.

There was no time for small talk. A young woman brought in who I assumed was the client. The guy looked cocky. And young. One of those young guys that hit it big right out of the gate. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie and expensive sneakers. His hair was a little long and there was neatly trimmed stubble on his jaw.

I knew his type and was prepared. I was curious to see how Spencer would handle him. I took a seat and opened my laptop with my notes ready. The client, Joshua Powell, was an eccentric influencer with millions of followers. He was launching his own line of athletic wear, and today's meeting was crucial. I understood that and I hoped I could be an asset to the team. With the other partners in the room, I kind of felt like I was auditioning. They wanted to see if I was worth the salary Spencer offered me.

"Why don't you tell us what you have in mind, Joshua?" Spencer said.

He was an excitable man. He started talking, a little too loud, hands gesturing wildly as he looked around the table at all of us. "I want people to feel like they're wearing luxury. Like they're being hugged with money."

Internally, I rolled my eyes. Hugged with money? I glanced at Spencer, who was listening intently, then shifted my focus to Joshua's social media feeds. Kyla had pulled them up already for me. Scrolling through his posts, I saw a lot of bold, vibrant images—Joshua performing stunts, posing in front of architectural masterpieces, and eating messy burgers. The photos were colorful and eye-catching, but the designs he had brought to the meeting were starkly different: minimalist, earth-toned, and dull.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't notice Spencer's gaze until he called me out. "Do you have something to add, Marlow?"

I looked up, feeling everyone's eyes on me. Joshua's expectant, slightly arrogant expression told me he was used to people jumping to do his bidding. I had worked with people like him. They surrounded themselves with yes men. They didn't understand dissenting opinions. People didn't argue with him.

But I wasn't most people.

I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to find the connection between your online brand and this." I picked up one of the sweaters on the table. It was tan, with a small black diamond on the chest beside the word Powell .

Joshua, undeterred, grabbed a pair of matching sweatpants. "This is the connection. Powell. Me. Duh." He turned to the men, laughing. "Who's the new chick?"

Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but I jumped in first. "The ‘new chick' is apparently the only one at this table willing to tell you the truth, Mr. Powell. These designs? They're bad. They're bland. Boring. Uninspired. DOA."

The room fell silent. Joshua stared at me, visibly offended. His face flushed with anger, and I could see him gearing up for a heated response. I clearly managed to catch him off guard. I decided to take advantage of his speechlessness.

I held up his social media feed, pointing out the bold shots, the crazy stunts, and the vibrant architectural backgrounds. I stopped at a picture of Joshua eating a burger, mouth wide open, sauce and mess everywhere. The colors were bright and contrasting. They were so normal for a guy like him. "This is your brand, Mr. Powell," I told him. "Bold. Bright. Loud. Messy." I tossed the sweater back on the table. "These clothes are boring, and your target demographic isn't looking for this. You did what you thought people would want to buy. That makes sense. You're not in marketing. But I am. And this? You can do so much better. Do you think you would have achieved the same success if you wore these outfits while you read a book or visited a museum? We both know the answer. This is something your dad or grandfather would wear."

I picked up one of the black sweatshirts, my lip curled in disgust. "Really, I hope you didn't order a lot of these. This is what you wear when you're at home alone and no one is going to see you. You and I know you would never wear this out and about. How can you expect any of your followers to wear it? It'll end up in a discount store in three months, mark my words."

The room hummed with anticipation, everyone waiting for Joshua's reaction. For a moment, he was speechless, his eyes darting from me to Spencer and back again. I wondered if I was about to be shown the door. Apparently, none of these big burly men were used to someone like me piping up. If I stuck around, they better get used to it.